Page 4 of Naughty Girl

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A lump forms in my throat. He means now? He wants to see them right now? In broad daylight, in the middle of this bright living room?

Shit. The man isn’t playing. Well, it’s time to back up my claim. Heat pools between my legs, and I reach for my t-shirt. I should really draw this out, but it’d only make me more nervous. He’d see the way my fingers are trembling, not because I don’t want to do it, but because it’s happening faster than I intended thanks to my big mouth.

Now it’s too late to change my mind. I’ve flown all the way here for my revenge, and this man is handing it to me. I pull the t-shirt over my head, and in the same beat reach for the clasp of my bra, unclasp it, and toss it down the floor.

The tips of my nipples are rock hard, but a soft heat stirs behind my breastbone. My chest never felt heavier, fuller. A wave of warmth spreads across my cheeks. My entire body is tingling, and the eroticism of him seeing me bare like this, for the first time, lights me up inside.

“Look at me,” he demands.

My eyes connect with his, and air is sucked from my lungs. I think about all the possibilities… will he take me now? Kiss me, bend me over a chair? Goose bumps raise on my arms, my underwear soaking already.

“Naughty girl,” he says in a voice so low, I have to ask myself if those are the words I really heard. Then, he erases the distance between us, and arousal amplifies inside me, reaching an all-time high fever pitch. He picks the shirt up off the floor and hands it to me. “Get dressed,” he says in a gravelly voice. “Then we’ll chat.”



I toldher we’d chat, but there’s a part of me that’s having problem stringing two words together.

When I dared her to show me her breasts, I wanted to call her on her bluff. Who knew, maybe this was a sick birthday joke one of my friends from Texas played on me. That was her time to humble herself and tell me what really brought her here.

What I didn’t expect was to see the most stunning pair of tits in front of me, begging to be touched. Licked. Fucked.

They are medium sized, perky, with rosy peaks that were hard. She was turned on too. Damn.

My cock moves, and I go to the wet bar in the formal dining area, and pour myself a generous glass of whisky.

I was planning on breaking open this vintage bottle on my actual birthday, but I need all the help I can get right now. What the fuck. She went through with it. What does she really want?

I take a long sip, the liquid burning down my throat then leaving a woodsy finish. I kick back on the chair. How quickly can I send her back? I mean, she got here on her own, but she can’t stay. Not with me. After what I saw, sharing the same room for longer than a night is impossible. I look at the amber contents in my tumbler.

All I wanted was a stress free week.

She somehow got rid of Sylvia, and followed me thousands of miles for what still has to be some stupid prank… my week is ruined.

“I’m ready to chat,” she says, coming into my field of vision. She has her t-shirt on, and I make a gigantic effort not to picture her without it.

I take another sip then set the tumbler aside. I could finish the whole damn bottle and it still wouldn’t remove the tension in my shoulders, the stiffening of my cock. The only thing that I could do to relax now would land me in a hot mess. “Sylvia doesn’t have a rash, does she?”

A shade of pink stains her cheeks. “No.”

“How did you get her not to come?”

“My bestie Lily works at Sugar & Silk. So I asked her to contact Sylvia and say that, hmm, you had a weird rash and decided to reschedule the trip. Due to the delicate subject, we asked her not to contact you. You know, male ego and all that.”

I would have laughed if I wasn’t concerned at this girl’s ballooning lies and lack of boundaries. “Riley, what have you done?”

She curved the corner of her mouth, and I could swear she feels uncomfortable for a moment. “Listen, I need this more than she does. Trust me, Sylvia will be fine.”

I lean over a chair, and stare at her. She’s on the other end of the oval, long dining table, her fingers whispering over the chair. “Why?”

“Do you always challenge the women who want to spend time with you? It’s almost like you want to make me change my mind.”

“Iamchanging your mind,” I say. “I never invited you here, as a sugar baby or otherwise. So I’m well within my right to send your ass back.” Your sexy, plump ass. I may not get to see it, but I’ll think about it in the shower later.

She shakes her head. “I just got here.”

“Listen, Riley, level with me. Why the fuck are you here? And don’t give me a silly excuse.”

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