Chapter 2
TWO
Tripp
I don’t know how my friends did it.
They’ve sent me at least a dozen call girls over the years, and I’ve rejected each and every one of them.
Paying for sex is not my thing. They know that, too.
I don’t get off on some poor girl being sent to my door, probably half in fear for her safety.
I’m not sure why my friends continue to keep the yearly prank running.
Maybe because we’ve all been weaned on tradition.
But it appears they’ve finally sent me a girl I can’t turn down.
She’s been dragged straight out of my fantasies.
Ones I’ve never shared with anyone and never will. Dark ones that cause me nothing but shame, persisting for as long as I can remember.
Long dark hair in a perfect braid.
A face like a fucking angel.
She wears a plain gray uniform that must have come from a high-end costume shop, because it’s incredibly realistic.
A short gray skirt and white T-shirt, topped with a buttoned burgundy vest. Black tights.
Sensible shoes. This isn’t one of the cheap role-playing costumes girls were wearing in the past, before I sent them away.
No, it looks like the real deal. She even carries an armful of towels she must have scooped up on the way in.
She keeps her head bowed forward.
I hate the way her subservience makes my cock stiffen.
But I’m too turned on by her tight, ripe body to acknowledge the shame.
Jesus, am I really going to do this?
Yeah.
Yeah, I think I am. I’ve been ignoring my body’s needs too long, but now, faced with this beauty straight out of my most aggressive dreams, I don’t know if I can.
“Do I…” My stomach hollows with sensual pain. Anticipation. “Do I just tell you what I want?”
After a short beat, she nods. “Yes, sir.”
My breath escapes in a hiss. “Please keep calling me that, for one.”
She nods, finally peeking back at me over her shoulder.
“Christ, that face.” I turn her around and nudge up her chin, her nervous, little intake of breath making my head spin. She’s perfect. She knows exactly what she’s doing. “Has anyone ever told you how utterly stunning you are?”
Her cheeks flush with pink.
Shit.
She’s going to kill me.
So authentic.
“They s-say it less politely than you do, sir.”
“I’ll bet they do.” I draw my thumb across the seam of her mouth, and she blinks up at me, her tits rising and falling on quick draws of breath. “I’ll bet they’re inexcusably rude.”
“Sometimes,” she whispers.
Odd that I should feel a surge of protectiveness for this stranger. This girl.
Especially considering what I want to do to her.
“You…” Her eyes seem to glaze over the more I stroke my thumb along her lush mouth. “You were going to tell me what you wanted.”
My abs stiffen with anticipation.
Am I really going to do this? Finally?
Yes.
I’ve turned down every opportunity. But her?
I can’t turn her down. My body has never responded with such ferociousness to anyone.
Dropping my hand from her mouth, I start to unbutton her vest, and, God, I hate the way anticipation grips my balls when she squeaks a little, as if alarmed.
“I’m not sure if you’ve had a request like mine before. It’s somewhat…unusual.”
Her hazel gaze tracks upward from my hands to search my eyes. “What is it?”
I groan as I push open the unbuttoned vest and reveal her braless little tits underneath the tight, white cotton T-shirt.
The painful urge to slap her pointed nipples rises inside me, but I shove it down, down, where I always keep my strange hunger.
Too soon. Not yet, Tripp. I need to make sure she’s on board to service my depravity before I give in to it.
“If you’re okay with it, I would like you to…” A hot shudder travels through me, my cock like cast iron. “Run from me. So I can chase you down.”
Her sweet mouth opens and closes. “I-I don’t understand.”
Of course she doesn’t. Who would?
“I’d like you to run away from me so I can catch you. I want you to fight me off. Or try to, anyway. You won’t be able to.”
“Why do you want to do that?” she whispers, her eyes genuinely curious.
Not judgmental, however. Which is why I’m able to answer honestly.
“When I was young—too young—I had this housekeeper who liked to nap in the afternoons, when she was supposed to be watching me after school. She’d always put on the same R-rated movie to entertain me while she napped in the guest room and…
” I shake my head. “There was this scene where the villain chases the girl. He…kidnaps her. Takes her to his house and…you know the rest. I knew it was wrong, but this was going on right around puberty and I watched it so many damn times that it started to…”
“What?”
I swallow thickly. “It started to make me hard.”
I push the vest off her shoulders and gather the hem of her white T-shirt in my hands, peeling the material up and over her tits, instantly obsessed with the way she whimpers, as if apprehensive.
Goddamn. Fucking her is going to be insane.
The tip of my cock is dripping just thinking about how tight her pussy is going to feel around me.
I’m going to bang her on her back, obviously.
Who wouldn’t want to look at that perfect face while they got off? Not to mention, her bouncy little tits.
“Jesus,” I mutter, palming them in my hands. “You are perfect, angel.”
“B-but sir…” she stutters, watching me mold her breasts with a perfect combination of surprise and interest. “You’re…Y-you shouldn’t be touching me like this.”
Should I be ashamed of the excitement that ripples through my undercarriage?
Yes. Yes. Taking a female against their will goes against everything I am.
But there is no harm if she’s only pretending, right?
I have to cater to this sickness sometime, don’t I?
“Then maybe you better run,” I fairly wheeze. “Before I hold you down and suck them.”
Her breath catches and she stumbles back as she cups her tits in her hands to hide them and, wide-eyed, turns and runs for the door.
A roar spills out of my mouth, years of suppressed hunger rippling my muscles.
I lunge for her, but she slips free and that only excites me more.
She throws a look of terror over her shoulder and ducks out of my grip again, her feet racing for the door.
I catch up with her before she can attempt to exit the room, throwing her up against the door on her tippy-toes and yanking up the back of her tight-ass skirt.
“I want to play more, angel,” I rasp into her hair, which has come loose from its braid. “But I just need to fuck right now. Give me the condom.”
She squirms between me and the door. “C-c-condom?”
I swoop down and bite her neck, sucking the reddened spot, my hands busy working the lily-white panties down her thighs. God. God, I need to get her to the bed somehow. I don’t want to bang her like this, not when I could come while looking at her phenomenal face.
“Aren’t you supposed to carry condoms?”
“I…” She tries to yank her panties back up and I see black, almost ejaculating inside my briefs.
She’s pretending to resist me, just as I need, and it’s even better than I expected.
I’m feral. “The hotel doesn’t provide condoms for guests, sir.
A-at least, I don’t think so. But either way, I’m a maid. Not a toy. You c-can’t just—”
“Fuck, angel, if you keep that up, I’m going to finish too fast.”
“Keep what up?”
I smooth a palm down the bare right cheek of her ass, grinding my teeth to find she’s firm and supple. I’ll have to take her from behind, too. She might not leave this room for a month. “The act.”
“Sir,” she breathes. “It’s not an act.”
A frisson of warning cuts into my lust and I frown, wondering if I’m missing something.
What if she’s really just a maid? But…no. She can’t be. What hotel maid looks like her?
Wanting to give myself some kind of double confirmation before I take her whining and kicking on the floor, I slip my fingers through the wet flesh of her cunt and find she’s soaking wet.
Lord.
Definitely a call girl.
If I were accidentally accosting a maid, she wouldn’t be aroused, right?
“You can put up a fight, but you want it,” I rasp in her ear, pushing two fingers past her slick entrance and—
She jerks between me and the door, slapping at my hand.
Holy shit. She’s tight.
Too tight.
Virginally tight.
“Please,” she whispers, trembling.
A chill passes over me. No. No way.
“You’re really…a maid?” Denial streaks through my nervous system when she nods. “Why are you wet?” Wishing I hadn’t asked that second question out loud, I try to wave it out of the air. “Forget I asked that.”
“What did you think I was?”
I close my eyes. “A call girl.”
She spins around, visibly embarrassed, and hastily fixes her clothing while I stand there, dumbfounded and still achingly erect. Knowing she’s a maid hasn’t dimmed my need one iota, but shit, I have made a huge error. I’ve inadvertently just traumatized this girl.
I rake both hands through my hair. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t tell anyone? I’m the one who fucked up.”
“But I’m the one who’ll get fired.”
That sinks in hard. She’s right. I do live in a world where I could assault a maid and the accusation would roll right off me like water off a duck’s back. That’s what money can do.
But I don’t allow money to dictate who I am. Not like my friends and family.
There’s no way to make this girl understand that, though. Not after what I’ve done.
“Are you going to?” she whispers, appearing stricken. “Tell anyone? Because my aunt really needs this job and if she lost it while I was filling in…I-I can’t get her fired after everything she’s done for me. Please, sir.”
I’m going to be sick.
She really thinks I’m a monster.
Maybe I am. Didn’t I just instruct her to run away from me? Fight me off?
Swallowing my shame, I hold up my hands and try to appear as non-threatening as possible. “This never happened, okay? I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, clasping her hands beneath her chin.
“But for the record, you did nothing wrong. I did.”
She blinks a few times, studying me. As if trying to decide if I’m good or evil.
“What is your name?” I ask, because I need to know. I need…her, frankly.
But there is no way in hell I’d let myself have her now. She’s a virgin. One who is working to make ends meet. Totally vulnerable. And whether I was unwitting or not, I took advantage.
“Vida,” she says softly.
“Vida. That means life, doesn’t it? In Spanish.”
“My mother was Cuban. What’s…” She ducks her head. “Never mind.”
“What’s my name?”
She chews her luscious bottom lip. “I shouldn’t be asking you questions.”
“You can ask me anything.” My arms are in torment from not being able to embrace her, but after what just happened, I have no right to touch her. “I’m Tripp. Sterling.”
Is it my imagination or do her eyes darken when she watches my mouth move?
“Again, I’m very sorry about everything, Mr. Sterling.” She reaches behind her back for the door handle. “But I really need to go.”
No. Stay. Instead of issuing that demand, however, I give a curt nod. “Of course.”
Before she slips out the door, her gaze traces down to my still-erect dick and her mouth parts on a shaky exhale, her tongue skating in slow motion across that full bottom lip.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I stumble forward and hump the heavy wood, imagining I’m inside her, those legs wide open around my hips, her little maid skirt rucked up around her waist. I pump, pump, pump, shaking the door on its hinges.
In my head, she scratches at my face and screams at me to stop, even as her cunt gets damper and easier to fuck.
I bite her neck and thrust extra hard, earning me a slap across the face.
How dare you, she says, pouting, struggling, her ass squeaking up and down the door.
Teeth gritted, I spew my nut all over the ground, my knees unsteady from the onslaught of intense pleasure.
“Vida,” I whisper, my mouth open against the cool wood. “Vida.”