Page 2 of Mr. Not Nice Guy

Releasing Scarlett’s breast, I grab her hair with both hands and force her face close to mine. “No,” I growl. “I will not.”

And to underscore my statement, I crash my lips onto hers. They part for me immediately, and I probe my tongue into her mouth, sweeping and tangling with hers. She tastes like spearmint and raspberry and lager, and it’s the most erotic flavor combination I’ve sampled, and I would fuck her right here on the bar if it wouldn’t land me in jail.

Nevertheless, I am extremely frustrated by having to fake being Mr. Nice Guy with Liza and Brennan all day, every goddamn day, and Scarlett is the perfect distraction for one night.

Tearing my lips from hers, I wrap one arm around her waist to force her to stand up with me. “Your place or mine?”

Scarlett bites her bottom lip. “Yours.”

* * *

Scarlett

I could have laughedupon entering August’s place. He’s clearly loaded, because his place is one of the boujee, renovated industrial lofts in the heart of the French Quarter. His monthly rent is probably more than I can scrape together in a whole year’s worth of jazz shows I do for shitty tips in the shittier music clubs that litter New Orleans’ less touristy areas.

But I don’t laugh. I don’t have time to. It’s clear August is a get-to-the-fucking-point kind of a guy, and he barely gets the door closed behind us before he strips off his blazer and starts clawing at my tank top while sucking on my neck. And I ain’t even mad, because with him standing behind me, pulling me flush against his body, I can feel his hot, rigid cock even through my shorts and his well-tailored, designer slacks, and I need that.

After all, a girl’s gotta find inspiration from somewhere, and if I’m supposed to pen any new sultry songs for my set, I need August to inspire me. Which is exactly why I singled him out in the bar. I knew with one glance that he is supremely frustrated and would give me the good, hard, no-strings-attached fuck that I need to get my creative juices flowing.

With his lips still on my neck, August slips his large, strong hands under my tank top and squeezes my breasts before pinching my nipples. I let my head fall backward against his shoulder as my breath picks up so quickly that I’m suddenly lightheaded.

“Are they real?” he rumbles against my neck.

A quick laugh punctuates my hitched breathing. “What?”

He releases my breasts only long enough to pull my tank top over my head, and then lightly cups and fondles them. “They’re fucking incredible. Are they real?”

I laugh again. “Uh, yeah. They’re real.”

He utters a throaty moan into my hair, still squeezing one breast, but then he slides his other hand down my navel and into my shorts. His fingers deftly slide between the aching, wet lips of my pussy, circling my clit and causing a tremor to shoot through my body.

“Purple hair and perfect tits,” he gravels against my neck. “You’re like a fucking unicorn.”

I think that’s my new favorite compliment, so despite how deliciously his fingers are working my pussy right now, I decide to show him a little appreciation and pull away so I can turn to face him. August thrusts his fingers through my hair, holding my face in place while he devours my mouth with a searing kiss, all the while I reach for his belt and fly to hastily unfasten them.

Shoving one hand in his boxer briefs, I wrap my fingers around his impressively thick cock and push his back against the door before I drop low in front of him. Now that I am actually looking at it, it’s even more impressive, and oh yes.

Inspiring.

I give him a slow, firm lick over the crown before drawing as much of his ample length into my mouth as I can, making up for the difference with both hands wrapped around the base of his shaft. With his hands still fisting my hair, August slowly pistons his hips in and out of my mouth, and maybe I’m a really naughty girl, but I can feel my panties getting that much more soaked.

His dick is so impressive and inspiring that I’m about to get myself off by merely getting him off, but then he jerks my hair, not-so-subtly informing me that I’ve done plenty. I stand back up while he scoops me up under my ass, catching one of my nipples between his lips to suck and nibble while he blindly carries me through the open-concept living room, down a hall, and into an equally large bedroom.

Throwing me down on the mattress, August continues to kiss and lick and nip at my breast while I pump his cock with my fist.

“Are you thinking of her?” I can’t help baiting him just because of the reaction it earned me back at the bar. “Remember, it’s okay if you do.”

“No,” he growls low in the back of his throat, grabbing my neck like he’s tempted to strangle me for such a remark. “Take off your fucking clothes.”

I bite his bottom lip and release it. “Yes, sir.” With his hand still wrapped around my throat, I shimmy out of my shorts and panties, kicking them to the edge of the bed. “Are you going to choke me?”

The lust-saturated expression on his face falters into confusion, but it quickly recovers with a pulse that leaps in his sharp, square jaw. “Do you want me to?”

I stifle a laugh. “I don’t know. Probably not because I don’t know you, and you seem pretty angry.” I angle my chin up at him and fist his cock again. “I’d hate to accidentally die.”

August’s eyes do a subtle shift, and I can tell I’m distracting him now, rather than spurring him to fuck me like a bat out of hell. Wrapping my knee around his narrow hips, I glide his cock up and down my slick entrance, and the feel of it is so intoxicating that my eyes roll backward.

“Stop,” August clips, pulling his dick away.

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