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He hisses as I unroll the condom down his hard cock.
He pushes my legs apart, lining his cock up with me and thrusting inside. He's just as hard now, just as ready.
"You thought I'd let you come without fucking you?" He moves his hips to prove his point and I gasp. He feels so much deeper in this position, and I squeeze him with my pussy. His moan matches mine as he pulls out only to slam deep again. Across the room, I see us in the mirror. My face is flushed, my mouth open, and I'm clinging to Derek as his bare ass pounds into me. The sight of him fucking me sends another rush of heat and wetness through me and I wrap my legs around his waist to bring him closer.
A voice floats into the bathroom, and I freeze as a rush a cold fear tears through me. Another realtor scheduled a showing during this hour, and they're here. In the house. Panic starts to rise in me, and I move to get down. Derek's hands lock on my legs, keeping them around his waist. "We're not finished."
"There was another showing here during this time and I forgot. They're going to come up here—they're going to see us."
Derek leans over to the door, closing it softly. "There."
"Derek, please, if we get caught—"
"Then we get caught," he says, pushing deeper into me. "But we're not leaving until I'm satisfied that I've fucked you thoroughly."
Desire warms my stomach, warring with my fear. "I could lose my license."
"You won't," he says, pressing me back until I'm leaning against the mirror. "Besides, you liked the thought that someone could be watching us. Wouldn't you like someone to see? Someone to witness my cock buried balls deep in your cunt, making you moan."
Simultaneous lust and horror crash through me, and I can't think, can't breathe. Derek guides my legs away from his waist, raising them so my knees are thrown over his shoulders. And then he begins to fuck me. His strokes are hard and fast, bringing my body back into the moment and I can feel the pressure and pleasure building. The tip of his cock strokes a spot deep inside me and lights flash in my vision with flickers of pleasure.
A moan builds inside me and I bite my lip to keep from letting it out, from being heard. Suddenly the voices are close, and I realize that they're climbing the stairs to the master suite. I can hear the realtor's chirpy voice as she talks about the master bedroom and closet. I can't get caught like this. I can't. "Please," I say to Derek. "Please." I'm begging him, hoping he'll understand what I'm asking, why this is so important. I shudder as he changes rhythm, slowing his thrusts so he can grind against my clit. I'm so close to coming and if I come I'm going to give us away. Derek doesn't look the least bit concerned.
Through the door I hear the realtor's voice. "And in here we have one of the best bathrooms I've ever seen. It's huge and has everything you could ever want."
"Please," I ask him one last time.
I hear the enthusiastic response of whomever the realtor is showing the house to, and I know in seconds it will all be over. I swear I can see the handle starting to turn when Derek leans over and flicks the lock. Fierce relief washes through me, but only for a moment. Derek's fingers cover my clit, sliding across it and circling, sending me over the edge. My orgasm is a flood of sensation, more intense from me trying to hold it in. My muscles are spasming, and my pussy is gripping Derek's cock as he continues to fuck me.
The doorknob rattles, sending another jolt of adrenaline through me, and Derek uses his fingers to send me over the edge again. I'm blind with the pleasure of it, bright and white hot. I'm biting my lip to keep from screaming , and I feel Derek shudder against me as he comes, his muscles going taut as he presses deep inside me.
"That's odd," the realtor's voice says. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure why it's locked. I don't have the key for that door. But I promise it's a great bathroom. I'll make sure to get you guys some pictures. Should we see the third floor?"
Derek and I stare at each other, frozen in place, as we wait for them to leave the suite and walk back to the other stairs. As soon as I hear them go, I untangle myself from him, jumping off the counter and retrieving my pants and underwear from the floor. I yank them into place, anger bubbling up from my gut. "I can't believe you did that."
"We were fine," he says, removing the condom and fastening back up his pants. His smile is amused—pleased and satisfied.
"I could have lost my license. And no, saying 'you won't' doesn't mean that I wouldn't have. It was a stupid risk." My voice is louder than it should be, given I don't know where the other people are, but I'm so angry that I don't care. How could I have been so stupid? I knew what was at stake and I did it anyway. I'm just as angry at myself as I am at him. "You can't just play with people's jobs like that. You don't know—"
Derek crosses the space between us, covering my mouth with his and cutting me off. My body reacts instinctively, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he kisses me. It's deep and desperate, the kiss warming a place inside my chest. His lips are soft and firm at once, and I realize that this is the first time that we've kissed. The heat spreading through my body is different, soft and slow and easy. This could be addicting.
He pulls back abruptly, his face flushed. He looks uneasy, nervous. It's not a look I've seen on him, and it's startling. "I…" He trails off, flustered. "I have to go." He unlocks the bathroom door, and I hear his footsteps quick and sure across the suite and down the stairs.
What the hell just happened?
I go after Derek, ducking down the stairs and towards the front door while keeping an eye for the other realtor. I'm almost to the door when I hear an exclamation behind me. "Now it's open? How odd!"
I feel sick to my stomach. It was a close call that didn't need to happen, no matter how amazing it felt to do it. I make sure to close the door silently as I leave.
My cell phone rings as I'm walking in the door to my house. The screen tells me it's the main line at Sunset.
"Penelope Swanson," I answer.
"Hey, Pen. It's Jeremy."
"Hi." I immediately put a little more chirp in my voice.
He clears his throat. "I just wanted to check in about Derek Conway. I see you haven't found him a house yet."
"Not yet. In fact, I just got back from showing him something." I try to kick off my shoes without making a loud noise.
"Do I need to assign someone else to him? Selling a house to Conway is going give us a lot of free media and exposure, so we can't afford to lose him. So if you think someone else should do it, tell me now."
I flop down on my couch, anxiety worming its way into my gut. "No, Jeremy. I promise everything is fine, Mr. Conway is just very particular in what he wants. But I think I've got a prospect he'll bite on."
"Good." Jeremy sighs. "Look, Penelope. This is real
ly important. I need you to close this deal. If you can't, then I'm not sure that Sunset Realty is the place for you. We work with a lot of difficult customers and we work very quickly. Do you understand?"
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yes, I understand. I'll close it."
"All right. Close by the end of the week." He doesn't sound particularly happy either, though it's not a consolation in this moment. "I'll see you soon," he says as he hangs up.
9
It's Thursday. It's been three days without word from Derek. I've sent him emails, texted, and called his office. His secretary told me he was out of town.
Bullshit.
I don't know what happened, what I did. I've run over the scenario a thousand times in my brain. He kissed me and ran. There's nothing I can think of that I did wrong, and nothing to indicate he doesn't want to buy a house anymore. So today I'm going to his office, because I've found his house. Not some overly optimistic option, this is his house. It has everything he wants from the mountains of space to a giant kitchen, and even a damn window wall in the bedroom.
I've spent the last three days scouring every listing I could possibly find, because I knew that if I brought him something it had to be perfect. This is. This is perfect. I just visited and did a walkthrough. It's amazing, right on the beach. I could imagine Derek in every room I looked in, whether reading or working or cooking. I know this is his house like I know that my middle name is Marie.
Derek's office is in downtown L.A., one of the glossy high rises you see featured in postcard shots. Of course it's on the very top floor—at this point I wouldn't expect anything less from him. The office space is light and open, full of natural light. It's just the way he described what he wanted in a home, and I smile. This is going to work. I introduce myself to the receptionist and she sends me down the hallway to Derek's secretary. I take a seat while I wait for him to get off a phone call.
