Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Dallas
W e parted ways in the hallway leading up to the rooms, and I went to my room, craving a shower like crazy. Tonight had been a clusterfuck in so many ways that I didn’t even want to think it over.
All I wanted to do was shower and sink into my bed. As I went to the bathroom, the clothes fell off me as I went along. I cranked the knob up to the highest pressure and the temp to near scalding and stood under the spray, the stream of hot water easing the tense muscles in my neck, thinking about how much my life had changed in the past week.
Has this really been four days? Christ, how am I going to last four to six weeks?
Tilting my head up, I tried not to think of the moment I’d kissed Blair. I know she hadn’t expected it— hell, I hadn’t expected it either, but it happened, and now it’s going to be a sticking point between us.
“She ain’t ever gonna forget it,” I grumbled.
This felt like when Mama sat me down at sixteen and told me that eight minutes of sex might end up as an eighteen-year commitment. I’d wanted to sink under the table back then, but now I wanted to sink into the floor.
“I’m fucked.” I sighed, but the worst thing about this was… I still wanted Blair.
It made no sense, but when did emotions ever link with logic? Didn’t someone say hate sex was some of the best sex around? I didn’t know, but I’d assume if I wanted to work out my frustrations with her, I’d work it out on her… inside her.
I reached for the liquid soap and scrubbed my hair clean with a handful before rubbing the suds over my chest.
She’d tasted like sweet tea and something spicy. One thing I learned about her at that moment was that she was no demure damsel. Blair had damned well kissed me back with as much intensity as I’d kissed her.
My cock began to harden the more I thought about her, and with little more than five seconds of resistance, I grasped the base of my cock and stroked the length casually, imagining what she looked like out of those clothes.
Firm tits with dark pink nipples, big enough to fill my hands, check; a flat belly probably leading to a waxed pussy with tan lines, check; and long legs I’d throw over my shoulders, double check.
But first…
I’d sit down on the bed, exposing my thick shaft, and motion her to me. “Get on your knees. I want your mouth on me.”
She’d walk over, swaying her hips sensually, before sinking to her knees. Leaning back, I reached out of her hair, ripped the tie out, and dug my hand into those silver locks. “Suck my cock.”
I wanted to see her part those smart lips and fix them over my cock. She’d lick me first, teasing the pre-cum from my hard cock, gliding her lips over my shaft. She’d flutter her tongue over the frenulum.
“Suck me.”
My hand shuttled over my cock faster.
She’d stick the thick mushroom-flared head into her mouth, her hand working the thick base where her mouth couldn’t fit. Together they moved up and down, my cock dripping with precum.
“Is your pussy wet, Blair? How bad do you want my cock?”
Slapping a hand against the wet tile, my head bowed under the spray. The fantasy got vivid and tactile enough that I could touch it and even feel it.
“Get up. Straddle me. Fuck yourself.”
She pulled off slowly, caressing my cock with her tongue, moaning as she popped off the weeping head. She’d take my cock in one hand as she blindly climbed on top of me and rubbed her moist pussy over my cock.
Grabbing her hips, I waited for her to descend onto my hard cock, letting it fill her completely, my cock strangled by her tight pussy. She ground herself onto my thick base and grunted. I held her and began thrusting into her— hard.
I didn’t want this to be slow; this wasn’t love-making. This wasn’t a tender, breast-sucking, body-worshiping sex; this was a rough fuck.
The harder I took her, the more she gushed with wetness, my hand in her hair tightly controlling her, my hips slapping her soft, silky, tender pussy. Unable to deny her as her need and passion were so pure.
My balls were burning with the need to come.
Soon, the only sounds in the room were her whimpers, our groans and grunts, our panting breaths, and the slapping of our bodies coming together at an almost frantic pace.
“Give it to me, Blair.” I’d growl. “Shower my cock with your pussy. Come harder than you’d ever come before.”
“Fuck, yes,” she’d cry out hoarsely, her body trembling violently, her pussy clenching tightly. She’d scrape her nails down my chest, down my back, the scores of red welts rising.
“Fuck!” I’d bellow beneath her, fucking her through her orgasm.
It was animalistic, feral, savage. It was everything… fucking everything. I’d use my grip on her hair to lift her, her back arching between us, my lips brushing against her shoulder before my teeth sunk in. The sharp sting prolonged her orgasm.
“Fuck!” I shouted into the steamy bathroom, slamming my fist against the hard tiles of the shower as the pleasure barreled through me, my fingers around my stiff penis.
I closed my eyes, head resting on the now-cool tiles— the water was running cold. When I opened my eyes again, this was not going to go well. I knew it.
“You’re a big boy, Dallas.” I finished washing. “You can face this.”
Dressed in a pair of boxers and a pair of loose flannel PJs, I dropped into the bed and checked my phone. I reached out to one guy from work whom I considered a friend and with whom I had worked with who on a couple of projects.
Hey, Jared, have you heard anything about the job? Is it going to fold or what?
Dropping the phone, I rubbed my face and did something I’d put off doing for days: thinking about what I’d do if my job went under. Do I go back to Cali or look somewhere else? I still had to figure out what to do with my old apartment, although I had so little in there: a couch, a bed, and a coffee maker.
I could throw them in a U-Haul and drop them off at the nearest Salvation Army, or if I did choose to go back to Cali, find another apartment.
I should have told Warrick that I was only up here for a short time… but I didn’t even know if that was what was going to happen. My life and my future were up in the air, so if I did leave this place— where would I go?
Uneasy, I exited the room, seeking another distraction. I brewed a cup of coffee in the kitchen and went to the main room, where Mom and Dad had watched the nightly news before going to bed. I wondered if Warrick had maintained it as it was, removed it, or renovated it, just like the rest of the house.
The room that originally had one of those large box TVs and a jerky antenna, which offered us half a screen of the local news and the other half speckled with white noise, now had a forty-inch flat screen connected to a modem, possibly the Wi-Fi and cable all in one.
I switched on the TV and flipped the channels to find an old replay of Die Hard, which started close enough for me to follow without losing the storyline. After grabbing my coffee from the kitchen, I slid into the middle of the couch and started to watch, occasionally checking my phone for any response from Jared.
Sipping the contents of my cup, I felt a movement behind me as McClane killed more terrorists and seized their bag of C-4 and detonators. I kept my head straight as Blair approached and curled herself against the arm of the couch .
She was wearing a short robe and probably some shorts underneath, with her long, toned, and smooth-as-silk legs tucked by her side. Her toes were as dainty as the rest of her, painted with nude pink.
She had a cup, too, but it didn’t smell like coffee.
We watched in silence until I set my cup aside. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not a wink,” she replied.
My phone went off, and I grabbed it, shocked that Jared had responded.
Hey Dallas, the higher-ups are tight-lipped about what is happening, but I don’t think we’re going to go under. You know we only used the Drayton name for marketing, but other than that, we’re independent. Maybe after all the hullabaloo is over and done with, and the FEDS find out we had no direct contact or exchange with those grifters, we’ll be okay.
I took a moment to think over what I’d just read, then replied. I hope so. Thanks for the heads up. Thanks for replying, even though it’s late. Please keep me updated when you can; I’m out of state.
Now, what do I do? Do I go back to a diminished company or move on?
“Bad news?” Blair asked.
“Not as bad as I thought,” I said, reaching for the cup. “My old company is still up in the air for now.”
“As in leaning towards collapse or back on solid ground?” she asked.
“I still don’t know,” I said.
Five minutes later, she asked, “Are you going back?”
I watched John McClain bash someone’s head in and absorbed the wrath he gave off as I still felt rubbed raw by the deal in Cali. A part of me wanted to blame Warrick and his girl Zoe for upending my life— but could I? They hadn’t known what I was involved in, and I certainly hadn’t had a clue about what was going on in their lives.
“I don’t know,” I finally replied. “I don’t even know if there is anything to go back to.”
“Do you have anything keeping you there?” She asked again, leaving the question open.
I knew what she meant; I knew she was asking if there was anyone important there, not anything. It felt… goddamn pathetic to admit that the only thing that mattered to me was my job, and I didn’t even know if I had that anymore.
Did I want to stay in a profession that, while I liked it, required more of me than I wanted to admit? So, what else was there? What else did I know?
“…No,” I said, circling the rim of the cup with a finger. “No girlfriend, no fiancée, hell, I don’t even have a dog to look after. Nothing but an empty apartment, a cupboard of coffee, and oats cups.”
She sipped her tea, and I took a long look at her; her hair was messy, tossed about, tendrils flying here and there, and held together with one of those claw clips with a name I didn’t know. It was the first time I’d ever seen her so disheveled, a very far look from her daytime appearance, and I— I kind of liked it. She looked human.
“I know that feeling,” Blair said. “It’s mostly me and my Ficus at home.”
I quirked a brow, “You’ve got a green thumb?”
“Hardly,” she said. “I leave for a few days, and when I come back, it’s a brown lump of dead bush. I am pretty sure the guys at Home Depot know to expect me every couple of months. ”
The punch McClane gave to one of the Germans made me wince. “Ever thought of getting a pet?”
“Good god, no,” Blair shuddered, and this time, I heard her southern drawl come in. “If I am that bad with a plant, how much better would I be with a living, breathing thing?”
“I dunno,” I kicked my feet up on the nearby ottoman. “Maybe they can feed on the souls of the business uninclined like you do.”
“Oh, kiss my ass,” she said lightly. “I can assure you that if you were on the front lines of a global deal from here to Australia and back again to Europe, you’d be just as firm and kick-ass as I am.”
I shifted to arch my hip. “I’ve known you for less than a week, and I am ass-kicked free.”
“That’s because I’d been wearing my red-bottom Louboutin,” she said. “Not my mud-stomping boots.”
Drinking the last of my coffee, I replied, “Why, Miss Blair, I think you’re flirting with me.”
That line undoubtedly came at the wrong time because she had just taken a sip of her tea and swallowed in an improper manner. Coughing over the arm of the couch, she slapped her chest a few times. I reached out to help, but she stopped me with a waving hand.
“You okay?”
She slumped back against the back of the couch. “Flirting with you? I think I’ve been insulted.”
“Oh, I dunno,” I said. “I’m a catch. Probably better than the preppy guys in chinos and cashmere sweaters you’ve dated. I bet they can broker a deal, but ask them to fix a sink or hammer a nail in place, and they’d call the handyman instead for fear of breaking a fingernail.”
Blair tucked her legs tighter to her side. “You’re telling me you wrestle bears and catch fish with your teeth, blindfolded?”
“And take down mountain lions with a well-placed punch,” I added. “It all comes with the DNA of being a country boy. So, tell me, what was it like being a country-belle?”