Instead, Keely pulls her hand away. I look over in frustration. She’s still pumping me one-handed, a torturous rhythm that’s driving me out of my damn mind. With a wicked grin, she slips her free hand down the front of her skirt, under her panties.
What the fuck?
She gasps, touching herself as she jerks me off. I can’t believe it, she looks so fucking innocent. I let out a groan, crazy with lust, and then Keely pulls her hand out again, wet with her juices, and slides it up and down my dick in a slippery vice grip.
Fuck.
I’m losing it here, the pressure of her hand and the warm, wet drip of her juices. Dammit, I want to taste her, so I grab her wrist away and bring her fingers to my lips, sucking hard.
She lets out a whimper. Her eyes are bright with desire, she’s panting right along with me. She pumps hard, circling my head with her thumb, playing with the ridge of my cock. Damn, she’s good. I growl, thrusting up against her hand, desperate for release. What I wouldn’t give to be inside her right now, fucking her cunt, her asshole, her lips.
The door handle jiggles. “Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice comes from outside.
Keely freezes in shock.
“Don’t stop,” I growl, forcing her face back to mine. “Harder.”
She flicks her eyes nervously to the door, but she obeys, closing her fist around me, pumping fast. I feel it rise, fuck yeah, a goddamn tsunami.
There’s another knock. “Excuse me, will you be much longer?”
“Just wait a goddamn minute!” I roar. I could come right now, shove her down on her knees and plunge my cock in her mouth, spurting my seed down her throat, but something stops me.
I want to make her feel this too. I need to make this girl come.
Shove her back against the wall, I yank up her skirt up and push her panties aside, plunging two fingers deep inside her wet pussy. She lets out a cry of shock and pleasure as I sweep my thumb hard across her clit and she breaks, shuddering around me as my world implodes and I come and come and come, spurting my juices into her eager hands.
I catch my breath. She stumbles back. “I said... I said I wasn’t hooking up with you,” she gasps.
“Plans change.”
“But--” Her perfect lips open in another goddamn complaint, so I fill it with my fingers instead, still dripping with her slick juice.
“You came. Is that a problem?”
She blinks, slowly opening her mouth again. I wait for a whine, but instead, her lips curl in a delighted grin.
“I’ve never orgasmed with a man before. With someone else, I mean.”
I yank my jean back up and rinse my hands. “If you’re still standing, and able to string two words together, that wasn’t an orgasm.”
She frowns. “What was it then?”
“A rehearsal.”
NINE
KEELY
You’re insane. You don’t even know him and you’re hooking up in the bathroom?
The minute my orgasm fades away, and I realize what I’ve just done, I bolt from the museum bathroom and I don’t look back.
Slut.
Humiliation crashes through me as I race blindly down the sidewalk, so fierce I want to die. How could I lose my mind so completely? One minute, I’m sitting in the gallery, doing my best to stay cool under his teasing stare, and the next...
You’re up against the wall, close to the edge just from the feel of him, so hard and massive in your hands.
Oh God! Just thinking the words in my head make me want to hide away in shame. What was I thinking, letting a man talk to me like that -- touch me like that? A stranger. A client!
I drive home in a sick nauseous panic. What if he tells my boss what we did? I’ll be fired for sure.
I don’t know how it even happened. I was trying to keep things professional, but there he was, trying to provoke me, saying more of those shocking, sexy things that I should have hated but really made my thighs clench with lust.
So I called his bluff.
I thought it was the only way to make him quit. I should have known a man like him, so sexy and dangerous, would have the goods to back it up.
And boy, he’s got the goods.
Even the memory of his fingers inside me makes my breath catch. And he had to be eight, nine inches, easy -- as big as the dildo my friend Helen got at her bachelorette party last year. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before: thick and hard, his bulbous tip straining, the vein bulging down the length of him. Back then, we all giggled and joked that men like that didn’t exist.
But he does.
I couldn’t help myself, just the sight of it made my body tremble with desire. It was like some deep feminine instinct took over, blocking all rational thought from my mind. I had to touch him, know what it was like. And once my fingers were wrapped around him, I couldn’t stop.