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“Be clear, my love,” Nairobia said straightforward. “I don’t want to marry you. I want to fuck you cross-eyed. And I want you to fuck me blind. Then I want you to continue doing what I pay you to do. Provide my club’s security. And, to be on-call for whatever other security details I may need you and your company for. Nothing more, nothing less, my love.” She stood up from her seat and, with a sway of her hips, prowled around toward him, sliding a finger over the top of her desk as she did so. “Now remove your shades, my darling,” she demanded softly.
“For what?” Lamar asked with a scowl.
“Because, my love.” She ran a hand over his back, then massaged his shoulders. Lamar tensed. Then relaxed under her touch as she caressed his shoulders, then leaned over him and slid her hands up and down the length of his arms, feeling every bulge of muscle. He sat stone still, trying like hell to not seem fazed by her soft touches, or to let her see how aroused he was slowly becoming. Nairobia nipped at his ear, then whispered, “I want you to look me in the eye, like a man should, and tell me you don’t want to feel the inside of my kut.”
He swallowed. “Nah, yo. I’m good on that.” The lie stung the tip of his tongue as he said it. But he needed to make a point. The point being—
“Is your cock hard for me?” she boldly asked, sliding her hands down over the front of him, her fingertips flitting across his chiseled chest, then down to his six-pack. “My pussy is so wet for you. Do you want to neuk me.” Fuck me.
He hissed in a shocked breath, then silently cursed. He knew he should shut her the fuck down, to stop her before he gave in and gave her what she’d been begging for since he’d taken on the security detail. A hard fuck.
But her scent, her touch, her smooth, soft hands…
Shit.
The truth was, he wanted to rip her back out. Wanted to give her the dick the way she wanted it. How many cats from around the way would be able to say they’d actually fucked a real live, famous porn star?
He grabbed her wrists, removing her hands from his body. “Like I said,” he reiterated sternly. “I gotta girl.”
He released his grip on her wrists, and Nairobia smiled, straightening herself. She walked in front of him, her nipples jutting out on display. “And I’ve already told you my intentions, my darling. Your girl—as you say—can have you.” She took him in, and licked her luscious lips. She eased back on her desk, and spread open her thighs. “I don’t want you. I want your cock…”
Nairobia widened her thighs, and Lamar’s gaze descended, his eyes flickering over her cunt, before narrowing intently. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny his throbbing erection straining to be free, or the fire burning through his gut.
He felt himself unraveling by the second. He kept telling himself fuck the job. Just get up and leave. But something kept him seated, that something being the sight of her pussy. He eyed it as she peeled open two puffy petals of flesh and showed him her pink insides. “I’m so wet for you, my love. You want to taste it, no? Lick it? Sniff it? Fuck it?”
She wanted him. Inside her. Now.
He groaned inwardly. He had no fucking control with her, needed to get away. Fast. He mentally yelled at himself for sitting there and allowing this shit to go on. It bordered on disrespectful. It was blatant sexual harassment. But who the fuck was he kidding?
He didn’t want to file complaints. He wanted to plow deep in her. The shit had his dick harder than granite. He rose to his feet as if unfazed by her lewd behavior, as if he had women flashing him all the time.
His cock pulsed again
, stronger, harder.
Nairobia eyed him like he was her dinner for the night, like a starved predator eying tender prey. She’d seen the long, heavy length of him. Her pussy clenched for it.
His glare still riveted to her glistening sex, Lamar struggled to keep from licking his lips. He didn’t eat pussy, not that he hadn’t. He just didn’t eat anyone’s. And he rarely gave his girl head, mostly because she wasn’t serving up any herself. But Nairobia’s deliciously sweet-looking pussy, splayed open on display, made him want to dive in tongue deep.
He swallowed, hard.
Nairobia smiled at him. “My kut yearns to feel your tongue on it, to feel your cock and fingers in it. But I won’t taunt you, my love.”
She closed her legs. Lowered the hem of her dress. Then stood to her feet.
Feeling robbed, Lamar’s jaw tightened.
Shit, shit, shit!
“Nairobia,” he rasped. “I’m warnin’ you, yo. Stop wit’ the bullshit ‘n’ just let me do my fuckin’—” He stopped himself. The ache in his hard, throbbing dick was making it difficult for him to think straight. Fucking Lana, man! Of all the broads he could have been with, why the fuck had he ended up with one who acted like a church secretary? No—scratch that shit. A goddamn nun!
“Let me love you with my mouth,” Nairobia offered, the hunger in her pupils darkening. “I want to taste your semen on my tongue…”
Lamar groaned. “I can’t keep doing this wit’ you, yo,” he grated. He finally removed his shades, and his hooded eyes flicked over Nairobia’s face.
“You can’t keep doing what?” she asked, stepping in to him. “Denying yourself what we both know you ache for?” She ran her hand down over his chest again, then over his abs, before her palm descended lower.
Oh my…
