Pretty In Ink Page 10

  “Sure will,” he said.

  “Put the company name on the title, I’ll come in this evening and sign for it. I’ll have the bank wire you the money. One thirty-two even?” I asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” he responded.

  “Do you have a tow truck?” I asked.

  “Which one’s broke down?” he asked.

  “None of them. I want Andrew’s old Audi towed out of here, and that one put in its place. Before he leaves here this evening. Can you do that?” I asked.

  “I can do anything. And the bow?” he asked.

  “Powder blue sounds great,” I said.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wilson,” he said.

  “Likewise. And tell the wife I said hello,” I said.

  “I certainly will,” he responded.

  As I hung up the phone my mouth curled into a grin of accomplishment. Andrew’s Audi wasn’t a bad car by any means, but it was far from new, and certainly not indicative of his performance with the company. His demands of keeping it, in my opinion, were a means of punishing himself for what he believed was insubordination. Nothing could be further from the truth. I had purchased the Audi when he started working for me, and it was high time it was replaced.

  As I rolled my chair toward the window, the elevator bell rang. My sphincter puckered at the thought of my mother arriving again, and I rose to my feet in anticipation of just that. As Stevie poked her head through the door, I sighed in relief. Wearing jean shorts, sneakers, and an extremely worn “DEVO” concert tee, she looked adorable.

  “Shut down the shop early?” I asked.

  She pressed her hands against her hips, shook her head, and huffed a very vocal sigh.

  “Give me a ride home?” she asked.

  “A ride? Where’s your car?” I asked.

  “Downstairs?” she said.

  I shook my head in confusion. “Why do you need a ride?”

  She turned her palms up and shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t need it anymore.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Nothing’s going on. Car’s downstairs with all the clothes you bought me in the trunk and the back seat. Don’t want it anymore. Clothes either. Can I get a ride?” she asked.

  Confused, shocked, and unaware of what she was thinking, I walked in her direction, glared at her as I stepped past, and pulled the door closed.

  “What’s goin on?” I asked as I walked past her.

  “I need a fucking ride,” she snapped back.

  “Because?” I said, dragging the word along for a few seconds.

  “Because I need to know for sure that I’m with you for all the right reasons,” she said.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. For her to even question why we were together was ludicrous and without merit. As I reached my desk I turned to face her and crossed my arms in front of my chest as I did so.

  “Do you believe you’re with me for my money?” I asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I need to know.”

  The thought of her questioning herself angered me slightly. I suspected someone said something bringing her to question herself. I stood and struggled mentally with a means of convincing her she truly had feelings for me, and not for my wealth.

  “And you’re afraid you don’t?” I asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders again.

  I uncrossed my arms and shook my head. As the anger built within me, I turned toward the window and peered out over the city. This was not what I wanted to hear, and certainly not something I felt I should have to deal with. I felt I should be able to do whatever I was able to for her and not have her question her sincerity. I felt I needed to convince her of her true feelings, but continued to struggle with a manner to do so. After a moment of staring blankly through the glass and listening to her breathe heavily, I turned around.

  Undesirable circumstances can only be resolved by equally undesirable actions.

  “Fine. I’ll give you a ride home, but it will be the fucking last you see of me,” I said.

  It was the first time I had ever cursed in her presence. I hated to do it, but I felt it was necessary to make my point.

  Her bottom lip began to quiver. After a few torturous seconds of watching her, she began to sob. It was all I could do not to intervene and attempt to comfort her, but I felt I needed to prove a point once and for all. And she needed to fully understand how she felt about me.

  “But…” she blubbered. “But…I…I…love you.”

  I opened my arms and rushed toward her. As I picked her up from her feet and held her in my arms, she pressed her face into my chest and continued to cry uncontrollably.

  “I would never do anything of the sort,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to prove a point.”

  As I held her, I realized what she had said. Although we had been in a relationship for over a month, the “L” word had never been spoken. I had felt as if I did love her, but feared a premature claim of love would cause her to possibly turn away. Now that she had claimed it, not only did it prove to her – and me – how she truly felt, it opened the door for me to be honest about my feelings toward her as well.

  I released her from my arms and held her by the shoulders. Her eyes immediately fell to the floor. I placed my index finger under her chin and lifted it slightly.

  “Listen to me,” I said.

  She shifted her eyes upward and bit her lower lip. “I am.”

  “I’m sorry. I said that to prove a point. Now, answer this…” I paused and allowed her to collect herself.

  “How did you feel when I said that?” I asked.

  “Heartbroken,” she said.

  “Not here for the money, are you?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Why are you here? Why are you with me?” I asked.

  “Because…”

  Based on her response, I wondered if she even realized what she had said earlier.

  “Would you like to know why I’m here?” I asked.

  Still biting her quivering bottom lip, she nodded her head.

  “Because I love you,” I said.

  She fell into me and squeezed me tight. After a few seconds of listening to what appeared to be her hyperventilating, she leaned away and looked up into my eyes.

  “I love you, too,” she said. “I really do.”

  “Are you going to take your things back where they belong? Home? Your car and your clothes?” I asked.

  She nodded her head. “I’m sorry,” she breathed.

  “Alright, but there’s something we need to take care of first,” I said.

  “What’s that?” she said as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

  “I’m not going to say,” I said. “But you’re going to need to get undressed.”

  What excited me more about the thought of fucking Stevie at that moment wasn’t that I was going to fuck her in my office for the first time, or that we were going be doing it up against a twenty story window looking out over the city. What had me more excited than anything was that while we were doing it, I was going to be able to tell her I loved her.

  Which was something I truly felt had been missing.

  STEVIE

  I had spent a lifetime allowing my mouth, attitude, and outgoing personality to get me into some serious trouble. Until I met Wilson, however, being in trouble had never been any fun.

  “Are you ever going to do something ridiculous like that ever again?” he breathed into my ear as he thrust his cock deep inside of me.

  The force lifted me from my feet. Now hovering an inch off of the floor with his hips against my bare ass and his throbbing shaft tickling my g-spot, I fought to catch my breath and respond properly.

  “Maybe,” I grunted.

  He clenched my hair in his fist and pulled it tight. His forearm dug into my back causing my head to turn to the side until he came into my vision. Standing behind me completely naked, his bare chest was flex
ed wide and his hair hung down in his face. I felt the pressure increase on the back of my head as he clenched his jaw and pressed his chin into the side of my neck. I closed my eyes allowed my mind to wander through thoughts of what he was going to do to me.

  His warm breath against my ear was driving me insane. “Are you sure?” he growled.

  I opened my eyes and gazed out the window of his office. Being fucked on the twentieth floor of his office against the glass wasn’t punishment, it was a dream come true. If this was what he intended to do to me to teach me a lesson, I’d piss him off every night.

  “Fuck yes…I’m sure,” I grunted. “I’ll do…something...dumb…again.”

  He released my hair and pressed his hand against the back of my head. The glass was cold against my cheek, but fighting him was an impossible task. He was far too strong. I was exactly where I wanted to be, and he was fucking me the way I needed to be fucked.

  Each thrust of his hips lifted me from the floor slightly and caused my bare chest to slam into the cold glass. My nipples pressing against the window was a turn-on in itself, and not something I had experienced in the past, but was quite sensual. I realized as I stared down at the city that being fucked while looking at the people and traffic of the downtown district was going to bring me to climax much quicker than normal. In my mind they were all looking up watching Wilson teach me a lesson.

  He pressed his hips against my ass and held me up, suspended slightly from the floor. I opened my mouth and stretched my jaw wide at the feeling of his cock being thrust so deep that it hurt.

  “You like that big dick?” he growled.

  “Mmhhmm,” I whimpered.

  The pressure of my face being pressed against the glass relaxed as his hand moved from the back of my head. Within an instant, his hands found my boobs and he began squeezing and kneading aggressively. I moaned in pleasure as I arched my back and attempted to get the head of his thick cock to rub my g-spot again.

  Oh fuck…

  There…it…is…

  As I began to grind my hips in a circular motion, the tip of his dick worked its magic against my g-spot. My entire body began to tingle as I felt the pressure build within me. At the same time, his breathing became choppy and labored.

  Fuck yes. Come with me…

  I arched my back and bucked my hips wildly as the tingling increased to a point that it was almost crippling. With my boobs still cupped in his strong hands, his fingers began to pinch my nipples, causing an entirely new sensation to begin, but one I wasn’t able to enjoy for very long.

  “Wilson…” I moaned as I ground my ass against his hips.

  I felt him begin to swell inside of me.

  It was time.

  As the pressure within me mounted, he dragged his teeth up along my neck until his lips were against my ear.

  “I love you,” he breathed into my ear.

  Incapable of responding, but totally in love with him as well, I burst into an orgasm, shaking from my toes to my fingertips. The pressure from his swollen cock increased as he reached climax. Simultaneously, he erupted within me. The sensation of his cum inside of me caused my legs to go weak and buckle beneath me.

  As I rested my ass against his upper thighs and attempted to regain my senses, he turned my head to the side and kissed me fully and passionately on the lips.

  Kissing was something I enjoyed greatly, but rarely seemed to do. As our tongues intertwined and we moaned in pleasure, the orgasm slowly decreased, and eventually faded into a dull tingle.

  I sighed in relief as he lifted me from my feet and tossed me over his shoulder. With his hand cupped against my butt, he turned around, took two steps, and cleared his massive desk of everything on it with one swipe of his arm. The phone, all the papers, his computer monitor, and every office accessory crashed to the floor. He leaned forward, lifted me from his shoulders, and cradled me onto the desk.

  I raised my head from the desk and rested my chin in my hand as I admired him. His torso was rippled with muscles and flared into a wide “V” shape as it formed into his massive chest. Free of hair, the definition of each and every well-defined muscle was apparent. My eyes slowly shifted upward until they met his gaze. His hair was a mess, and he was completely naked except for his socks. Satisfied he was everything I needed, wanted, and now deserved; I curled into a tight little ball and grinned.

  “I fucking love you,” I said.

  He brushed his hair back and smiled. “I love you, too.”

  “What’s up with the socks?” I asked as I tilted my head toward his feet.

  He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “Guess I didn’t want to waste the time.”

  “Nice touch,” I said.

  He stepped to the edge of the desk and sat down. After twisting his upper body to face me, he gazed down at me and studied me for a long moment.

  “You want to know something?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said as I resituated my chin into the palm of my hand.

  “As a little kid, on my birthdays, when I blew out my candles…” he paused and shook his head lightly as if recalling the memories.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Well,” he said as he shifted his eyes to meet mine. “I never wished for any material things. It was never a Nintendo game or a bicycle or any other material object that I wished for.”

  He eyes fell to the floor and stared blankly. “Every year I’d wish for the same thing. I’d wish for a friend. Year after year I wished for a friend to come, but I never got one.”

  As my heart felt like it was breaking into a million little pieces for the pain he must have gone through as a child, he continued.

  “Until now. You’re my best friend and you’re my lover. Thank you for sharing your life with me,” he said.

  I opened my mouth, knowing if I actually spoke, I’d begin to cry. I mouthed the words “I love you” as my eyes welled with tears.

  Wilson must have felt the exact same way. He bit into his bottom lip, nodded his head a few times as his eyes shifted along my naked body, and eventually he fixed his eyes on my face.

  “I love you,” he said silently in return.

  There are many men on this earth that have the ability to satisfy each and every one of us, but there is only one man who is a perfect fit. He’s the man who snaps into place and fills every awkward little void in our inner being.

  And my perfect fit was sitting at my side.

  WILSON

  My life had gone from what I perceived as a disastrous mess to absolute perfection in a matter of a month and a half. Even as perfect as it seemed to become, Stevie continued to offer me small pieces of herself each and every day, further proving that she was not only the woman I hoped to spend a lifetime with, but someone who was truly gifted at extracting everything the world around her offered.

  “So how’s that little cocksucker work, anyway?” she said as she studied the module.

  “It’s wireless,” I said.

  “No shit, Sherlock. But how’s the little fucker work? Bluetooth?” she asked.

  I leaned forward and shook my head. “No, it works off of the internet. It’s a program that’s on my phone. My phone has the application on it, and the application has virtually every available internet music option in it. You pick an app, log in to it, and press “play”. It extracts the music from the wireless internet.”

  My bedroom was no different than the rest of the house. Each and every room had wireless speakers in it, hidden in various locations. All were part of the system, which received a signal from the module in my bedroom. I was able to control each and every speaker individually, or allow them all to play at the same time, all from my phone.

  “So I can use your phone, log in to my Pandora or whatever, and play my music?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I responded.

  “Can I see your phone?” she asked.

  “You sure may,” I said as I grabbed my phone from the night stand.

  As I handed he
r my phone, she chuckled and leaned into the headboard.

  “You know this is a first. A dude letting me see his phone,” she said.

  “Why wouldn’t I let you see my phone?” I asked.

  “Most guys have all kinds of shit to hide. Text messages to other chicks, emails, dating apps, pics of naked bitches, you name it. You? I’m not worried about you,” she said.

  “I have nothing to hide from you,” I said.

  “Sonos. That’s the app, right?” she asked.

  I nodded my head. “That’s it.”

  After a few seconds of poking her finger against the screen, she began to grin. The grin eventually curled into a full smile, thinning her full lips and showing the tips of her white teeth.

  “Okay, I’m going to get a song ready, and hand you the phone. Play it when I tell you too, okay?” she said.

  “Alright,” I agreed.

  As an unfamiliar song began to play, she immediately pressed “pause” and handed me my phone. After crawling out from under the covers and prancing to the end of the bed, she placed her hands to her hips and grinned.

  For the last two weeks, we had slept together every night in my house. To make her as comfortable as possible, I had purchased her some pajamas. Although she refused to wear the tops I purchased, she seemed to enjoy wearing the pajama pants, and wore a tight-fitting ribbed tank for the top. Standing at the foot of the bed in her loose fitting pants and the tight top with no bra, she looked remarkably fit and nothing short of gorgeous. With her purple hair draping down past her shoulders she gave her instructions.

  “Press play,” she said as she closed her eyes.

  I glanced at the screen, pressed “play” and shifted my eyes toward her.

  As the song started playing, she slowly began to move to the music. Almost magically, as if her entire body was a mechanical object somehow attached to the sound of the music, she moved across the floor. Dancing alone, but as if she had someone at her side, she continued to move her every muscle in perfect timing with the rhythm of the song.

  I quickly shifted my eyes from her to the phone and back.

  The Staple Singers, “I’ll Take You There” was the name of the song. Although I had never heard it before, it was apparent it was from a different era of music. Completely captivated by her ability to dance, and enthralled by her choice of movements, I sat silently and admired her until the song was finished.