Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
K ingston
"Damn, this is big," Skye says with a slight grin as we enter my apartment.
I watch as she slips off her heels and gives a huge sigh of relief.
"Oh my gosh, those were killing me." She turns to me with a big smile. "Your place is amazing," she says, as she runs her fingers along the countertop in the kitchen. "Is this marble?"
I nod.
"Wow, you are rich." She looks me up and down. "You are very rich."
"I mean, I am a partner at a top law firm," I say, watching her as she walks into the living room, runs her fingers across the lever couch, then heads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that run across the entire length of the living room and provide a beautiful view of Manhattan.
"Look at this view," she says. "Oh my gosh, I feel like I'm in a movie, or maybe in Heaven." She grins and starts doing pirouettes around the room. "I'm in Heaven," she sings, laughing. "And I feel like I'm on top of the world," she continues, chuckling. "Oh my gosh, I'm so drunk." She hiccups as she looks over at me. "Mr. Kingston Chase, you didn't tell me that you lived in a dope ass apartment like this."
"The conversation never came up," I say, as I place my keys on the counter and head toward her. I watch her dancing in her white dress, her red hair spinning across her shoulders, and for a couple of moments, I wonder what I'm doing with this beautiful woman in my apartment at one o'clock in the morning.
"You must get laid all the time," she says as she heads over to me, poking me in the chest. She looks up at me with a girlish smile and bats her eyelashes at me. "Is this your lair?"
"I wouldn't call it my lair, no," I say, shaking my head as I grab her finger and her hand and pull her into me. "Though maybe I should call it that."
I glance down at her, at her parted lips, and for a few moments I think about kissing her. I can tell that she wants that as her eyelashes slowly lower and she tilts her chin up toward me and waits. I think about it for two seconds before I let go of her hand and take a step back.
"Would you like some water?" I ask.
Her eyelashes flutter open and she stares at me in dismay, but then she starts dancing again.
"I would like some water, kind sir. And maybe some more wine or champagne and caviar and strawberries with chocolate dip," she sings, laughing.
"You didn't tell me you were a singer. Are you the second coming of Taylor Swift?"
"Ha ha. Very funny," she says, rolling her eyes. "I cannot carry a tune to save my life."
She's correct about that. She would never be able to make it as a pop star, but she does have a nice, sweet lilt to her voice that is quite attractive.
"So you would like champagne or wine?" I say, as I head to the fridge. ”The champagne's not cold, but?—"
"Oh, whatever you have. What are you going to have?" she asks. "Mr. Kingston Chase."
"You don't have to keep saying my name. I do know who I am."
"I know you know who you are," she says loudly. "Oops." She presses her hand toward her lips. "I'm being loud. I think I'm drunk."
"I think you are," I say. I wonder for a few moments if it's a mistake having her here.
"You're handsome," she says. "In a way too handsome for your own good way."
"What does that mean?" I ask as I open the fridge. "Okay, I have a bottle of Riesling, some cider, some beer. I can also make you a rum and Coke or a Sprite and vodka."
"What ciders do you have?" she asks, heading toward me and the fridge. "This fridge is really nice. What is it? Samsung?"
"It's Bosch," I say, smiling down at her. "I'm quite unused to all these compliments."
"Yeah, well, don't get too used to it. I'm only trying to butter you up so you give me an amazing massage."
"I will," I say, nodding slowly. Though, if I were being smart, I would send her packing. I don't know that this is the best idea I've ever had, offering to give her a massage in my apartment, in my bedroom, naked, while she’s all geeky and flirty like this.
"Do you ever grow a mustache or a beard or a goatee?" she asks, reaching up and touching the side of my face before running her fingers to my chin. "I think you'd look quite handsome with a goatee."
"You don't think I look handsome now?” I ask, a single eyebrow raised.
"You'll do," she says, giggling. And before I know what's happening, she leans up on her tippy-toes and gives me a quick peck on the lips.
"Oops," she said. "I wasn't supposed to do that."
"But you did." I know now is the time I should call the Uber.
"So am I getting that cider or not?" she says, running away from me and back into the living room.
I watch as she plops down onto my oversized sofa. "This is so comfortable. I can tell this costs a lot of money."
"You are quite preoccupied by money, aren't you?"
"I suppose it's because I don't have any," she says, laughing. "I mean, if I did, I'd most likely be in Europe right now, or Australia, or maybe even South America."
"So when are you planning on going on this trip?" I ask her, feeling a little bit sad at the thought of her traveling around the world and gone from my life. But I try to reason with myself. It's only because she's my assistant and I don't want to have to find another one. I’m starting to feel like a record on repeat.
"When I have enough money, I suppose." She blinks at me. "Don't suppose you want to give me a raise."
"You don't suppose right," I say, smiling. "So, cider?"
"Yes, please." She nods. "I might have to give up my weekend job as well."
"Oh? The one where you work as a stripper?"
"I'm not a stripper," she says. "We don't take off our clothes. Yes, we dance around in bikinis and skirts for bachelors, but nothing untoward happens. I mean, it's not like I've ever fucked any of them and it's not like they've touched me or anything. Though, can you keep a secret?"
"Yeah. What?"
"There's one girl, and let's just say she lets guys give her hundreds."
"Sorry. What? What do you mean she lets guys give her hundreds?"
"Well, right at the end of the day."
"Yeah?"
"Men put hundreds in their lips."
"Okay." I head toward the couch and hand her a cider, then sit next to her.
She takes a sip and lets out a moan. "This is amazing," she says.
The sound makes me hard and I shiver slightly. "So explain to me how they put hundreds in their mouths?" I ask. "I'm confused."
"Well, she can take all the hundreds she wants, but guess how she gets them?"
I stare at her and take a sip of my own cider. "No idea."
"What? You can't guess?" She takes another sip of her cider. "It's kind of crazy. I know I could do it as well. Some of the guys have asked me, but I said no. I am not going to do that no matter how much money I think I could make."
"You have me confused, Skye. What are you talking about?"
"You seriously don't know?"
"No. Are you going to tell me?"
"See if you can guess."
"I'm not sure. She takes the hundreds out of the guys’ mouths?"
"Yeah, she takes them out of their mouths all right." She makes an o shape with her mouth and takes another swig of cider. I watch her staring at my lips and I want to kiss her. Hard. "I can show you if you want."
"Show me what?” I shift slightly. She’s going to be the death of me. My cock is straining against my pants and I know it wants to bust out like a prisoner in jail.
"How she takes the hundreds out of their lips. but you’ve got to put a bill in there."
"I'm not putting cash in my mouth."
"Fine," she says. "You probably don't have a hundred dollars anyway."
"I do have a hundred. I have multiple hundreds, but I'm not going to put it in my mouth. I mean, does it have to be in my mouth for you to show me?"
"No, but fine," she says, pushing me back.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
She giggles slightly. "You got to be lying on the ground. That's what the guys are doing when she picks up the hundreds."
"So you want me to get on the ground or…?"
"No. You can stay on the couch. I'd put that cider down though."
She grabs it from my hand and puts it on the coffee table and sets hers beside it. "Okay. This is what she does," she begins, giggling. "I don't do this though. Only one of the girls. Well, maybe two."
"Okay," I say in a bemused tone, looking at her. "And just exactly what do they do?"
She shifts onto my stomach and I stare up at her.
"What's going on, Skye?"
"I'm going to show you how they get the hundreds," she says, throwing her hair back.
She stares down at me and all I can see is her heaving bosom. She shifts back slightly against my crotch and I hold in an involuntary sigh. Is she trying to tease me or…?
"Okay, I'm not going to actually do it, do it, but I'll show you. Kind of."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused.
She shifts up my body. "I mean, they don't have their panties on when they do it."
"They don't?" I stare at her for a couple of seconds until it suddenly dawns on me exactly what she's talking about.
I know I should tell her to stop, but I can't. She shifts up and before I know what's happening, her panties are over my face and she's crouching on it. I can smell her sweet wetness as her panties brush my nose and my lips. She presses down into me for a couple of seconds and I swear I can feel the wetness. Fuck, she smells good.
She starts laughing as she quickly moves off of my face and looks down at me. "They pick up the hundreds with their pussy lips," she says, giggling. "Can you believe it?"
"No," I say, shaking my head.
Fuck. I want her. I should send her packing. This was a bad idea. I should not have invited her to my place. I can feel her body still on top of mine, warm and soft in all the right places. I reach up and grab a tendril of her hair and play with it, my hands moving to her back. I grab her around the waist and shift her down.
"Oops, sorry. Did I smother you?"
"No," I say through gritted teeth. I am not really sure how to tell her what I'm feeling right now.
"I was just trying to show you what some of the girls do. I don't do that. Not at all, and I guess that's why I'm not making enough money, you know? They make thousands, but I guess guys like that. You know what one of them told me?"
"One of who?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. "One of the guys?"
"No, one of the girls. She told me, well, it's kind of crazy."
"Crazy?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Yeah." She leans forward and presses herself against me. "I'll whisper it into your ear," she says.
Her lips move to my ear and I can feel her hair across my face. She shifts slightly so that she's grinding against my cock and my hands reach up and squeeze her ass.
"Ooh, Mr. Chase," she says, laughing. "Naughty, naughty."
"My bad," I say, grunting.
She shifts her face slightly so that her eyes are next to mine. "So do you want to know?"
"Yeah," I say, my voice hoarse. "Tell me."
"Well, my friend, her name's..." She pauses. ”Well, maybe I shouldn't tell you her name."
"No, tell me," I say, not really giving a shit about her friend's name, but loving the way her body feels against mine.
"Her name's Beth Leana."
"Okay."
"Well, Beth Leana told me that sometimes when she sits on their faces…"
"Uh-huh," I say.
"They slip their tongues inside of her." I can feel her chest shaking against me as she tries to contain her laughter. "Can you believe that?"
I stare at her for a couple of seconds, not knowing what she wants me to say. Of course, I can believe that a man at a bachelor party who's lying on the ground with a $100 bill in his mouth waiting for some stripper to lower her naked pussy onto his face would stick his tongue inside of her. Probably wanted to stick a whole lot more than that, but I don't want to be crude.
"I guess I can," I finally say.
"It's crazy. I totally wouldn't do that. The only men that are going to stick their tongue inside of me are men that I'm dating."
"Oh, yeah?" I say. "Only men that you're dating?"
"Yes." She nods as if that’s a given. "I mean, sure, it would be fun to have some hot dude make me cum as I grind on his face and get money. But I'm just not that sort of girl."
"Of course you're not," I say, wondering what she'd do if I grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto my face again.
"It would be totally inappropriate for me to do something like that."
"Totally," I say.
"Absolutely, one hundred percent. I'd feel like a prostitute, you know? Doing that for money."
"Of course, but, you know, I don't have any money in my mouth right now." I look over at her with an innocent expression.
"What?" She blinks at me.
"I'm just saying if you want to see what it feels like." I grin at her. "You can."
“I can?" she asks, blushing furiously. “You want me to?—.”
"I mean…" I grab her around the waist and I slide her up again. "Why don't you show me what they do again?"
“You want me to show you?”
"I kind of didn't really know what you were talking about at first. Show me again what they do.” My heart is racing and I’m rock hard. This conversation is the best foreplay I’ve ever had. Well, maybe not the best, but definitely up there.
She looks down at me and runs her fingers through her hair. I know that she knows what I'm saying and it has nothing to do with the parties that she works.
"If you really want me to show you, I can real quick."
"Of course. Real quick," I say, hardening as she slowly lifts her body.
It’s only a few more seconds before she lowers her panty-clad pussy onto my face, but it feels like an eternity. This time, I'm not caught unawares. This time, I'm not in shock. I nuzzle my nose into her pussy and reach my lips up and suck.
She gasps as I feel her clit through her panties and suck on it. She grinds against my face for a couple of seconds before I reach up and squeeze her ass and push her against my face some more, pulling a quiet groan from her throat. I run my tongue against her panties and quickly reach up and slip the material to the side so that I can feel her clit against my naked tongue. She gasps as I eagerly lick her, then she rubs against me two more times and I'm about to slip my tongue inside of her when she shifts off me.
"Well, that was very good," she mumbles, blinking at me. She quickly jumps off of the couch and I groan. "Can I use your restroom?" She looks over at me. Her face is red.
I sit up slightly and nod. "Sure. Just down the hallway to the right."
"Okay," she says, swallowing hard.
I watch as she pulls her dress back down and groan as she makes her way toward the bathroom. I'm not really sure that I should have done that, but I couldn't resist. She was the one that was playing with fire, but I was definitely the one willing to get burned.
I tell myself that I'm going to send her home as soon as she comes back out of the bathroom. Giving her a massage will definitely be a bad idea. A very bad idea. But as I lick my lips, I can still taste her and I know that I don't care what sort of trouble I get myself into this evening. If she's willing, so am I.