A loud thud echoes throughout my pitch-black hotel room followed by our mutual moans and groans that vibrate through our kissing, and in my Masen-induced adrenaline rush, my mind only minutely registers that it’s my head and back being pushed against the closing door. I don’t have time to think rationally in those seconds because Masen’s hot mouth and tongue are deliciously paying homage to my neck, shoulders, and the valley between my breasts. His hands are tightly gripping my hips while he pulls me towards him, and he lets out such a animalistic growl that all rational thinking is gone and I can’t get his clothes off fast enough. I start tugging his shirt from his pants and my hands eagerly slip under it to feel his toned abs. The feeling is electric.
“FUCK!” he yells into my neck and it serves to give me a moment of clarity and I realize I need to regain control of this situation and fast. I wasn’t going to be the dominated; I’d be the one to control him, to remind him that he’s just a fuck. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to fuck the smirk off his face.
I quickly regain my footing and push him off of me enough to turn the tables, slamming him back against the wall next to the door. I quickly plunge my tongue into his waiting mouth and forcefully grab his hardness through his pants with one hand while tugging at the hair on the back of his head, pulling his face towards me. He emits a desperate groan and I smile against his lips in triumph.
He senses the shift in our power dynamics and we vie with each other for control with our lips, tongues, and hands. Finally, Masen has enough and roughly pushes the hem on my tight dress up higher. When he goes to grab my ass, he gasps and freezes.
“Fucking shit, Swan, you’re not fucking wearing panties!” He stares at me in astonishment. He lifts me up and I instinctually wrap my legs around his waist tightly, and grind against him. He buries his face against my chest.
“I didn’t want any panty lines,” It’s a half-truth. I was preparing to get some action tonight, just not from Masen. Not in a million years.
“Are you sure?” I can hear the glare in his voice in the darkness as he turns to blindly push me against the next available surface; in this case, the dining room table. He grinds into me to get my attention, and I hear several unknown objects fall to the floor with clangs and crashes.
“Are you sure you weren’t thinking of letting Alec get a piece of you tonight? He’s not fucking good enough for you, Swan. I told you before, he can’t handle you.”
“PPFFT! Like you are, Masen? I say before I grab his stubbled face in my hands and try to make out the deep green in his eyes, “Like your God’s gift to women? What about your little arm candy, Tanya, was it? Why aren’t you fucking her right now instead of me? Maybe because she’s not doing it for you, or maybe you just feel like you have to win at everything like you do on the field? What, you feel you’re entitled to get as much pussy as you can get because you’re this big soccer star....” I’m silenced quickly.
He takes my mouth again with his mouth and quickly ends it, whispering, “Fuck, Swan, just shut up and let me fuck you.” He drags one of his hands from my ass to my stomach and down to my bare center, and slips two fingers between my slit and lets out a loud moan when he feel the wetness.
“You’re so fucking wet for me already. You want me, don’t you see that?” He takes his fingers away and I’m already pissed at the loss of contact, but I’m paralyzed by his words and sounds. He’s so fucking sexy, I can’t even think straight for the first time ever. He pushes off the table, taking me with him, and he wobbles around the darkened room looking for the bed. Finally feeling the edge of it with his legs he unceremoniously throws me down onto the center of the bed before quickly removing his shirt, pants and boxer briefs, discarding them on the floor. I feel the bed sink and I can faintly make out his form crawling like a lion about to pounce on his prey. He settles in between my legs and starts to maneuver the rest of my dress off my body and I raise my arms to free myself from it. Oh yeah, and I’m not wearing a bra either. A detail that doesn’t escape Masen, who’s eyes are quickly adjusting to the darkness.
“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” he growls and climbs towards me until he’s hovering over my body. He deftly takes one nipple into his mouth and tugs and nibbles and swirls his tongue around it while fondling the other with his hand. It’s rough, it’s carnal, it’s perfect. But I’m not ready to relinquish power to him, so I take initiative. I allow my hands to grab his fantastic mess of hair and push him down my body to where I want him most. He gets the picture right away.
“Ah, I see,” he chuckles against my lower stomach; the vibrations make me writhe against him. “This is what you want, huh,’ he says before lightly grazing my clit with his tongue. I immediately grind against his mouth. “Yesssss,” I moan. and i can feel him smile against me as he teases me several times more before I’ve had enough and push him against my sex forcefully.
“Just fucking do it, Masen!” I growl out, and he quickly delves his tongue between my folds, licking from my entrance to my clit in one, hot stroke. I pull on his hair and scratch his scalp in appreciation. He returns the favor by speeding up his rhythm, moaning into me, sending me into a frenzy with the vibrations. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he pushes two fingers into me with force, and as much as I don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he has me undone, I scream into the darkness. He continues to pump in and out of me while his mouth and tongue bring me to the brink, and with one final nibble on my clit, I fall.
It’s fucking ridiculous that this simple act of foreplay should undo me this way, but this man is talented. I’ve never experienced this level of pleasure from someone going down on me and it leaves me momentarily paralyzed while I ride out my incredible orgasm. Masen slows down and pulls his fingers out of me and I immediately feel the void of not having in me. That needs to be remedied, and fast.
Before he has a chance to open his mouth and say something snarky or sarcastic, I roll us over so that I’m straddling him and quickly take out a condom from my drawer, roll it on and impale myself onto his very hard cock. His eyes widen in shock but he quickly regains control by grabbing my hips and helping create a delicious tempo as I grind my way towards my second orgasm. I can tell he’s getting close too.
“Fuck, that’s it baby, make me come,” he grunts quietly as he brings his hands to my breasts and grabs and pulls. He overtakes me, suddenly flipping me over so that I’m on all fours, allowing him to go deeper, and I let out an embarrassing moan at the sensation. I usually enjoy this position inmmenseley, but tonight, it’s submission, and I’m not about submission right now.
“Shut up... this is...not about.....you...you....asshole....” I manage to say in between thrusts, and find a way to flip over so that I’m on my back.
“The fuck it isn’t!” he shouts and just like that his hands drop down to my hips and lifts me so that I’m straddling him again, this time, he’s sitting on his heels. He roughly thrusts upwards while I meet him every single time. His cock manages to hit the spot that destroys my resolve, and I come fast and hard.
“FUUUCCCKKK!” I yell, throwing my head back.
“Holy shit! Ahhhh......Fuck baby!!” He falters in his rhythm and erratically thrusts a few more times before coming violently.
I place my hands on his shoulders in an attempt to slow my breathing and his hands massage my hips and sides before he drops us both on the bed, his hand gently holding the back of my head as we hit the mattress. he slowly pulls himself from me and I roll over with my back to him. When our breathing has returned to normal he turns towards me and grabs around my waist, pulling my body closer to him until it’s flush against him. This catches me by surprise, since I never pinned him as the cuddling type; then again, I’m not the cuddling type. But I can’t seem to distance myself from him. His warmth feels too good and I feel the same buzz of electricity between us that I’ve felt before. His hand caresses my stomach while I feel his warm breath on my neck; he kisses me there and I’m stunned by the action. I’m too sleepy and exhausted to protest, and all too quickly I feel myself drifting off to sleep. Before I do, I swear I hear Masen muttering “beautiful Bella,” but I can’t be sure if he actually said it or if I dreamt it; either way, I’m fucked. Literally, and figuratively.
~*~*~*~EtS~*~*~*~
I sense the thin line of morning light creep up and hit my closed eyelids and I stretch my body like a cat. With eyes still closed I turn and reach out with my arm expecting to find Masen’s warm, naked body nest to me; I need to kick him out so I can shower and get ready so I can interview him in a couple of hours. But my arm falls onto cold sheets and my hand comes into contact with a piece of paper. I reluctantly open my eyes and rub the sleep from them before reading what is apparently a note in surprisingly very clean, tight script.
Meet me at the Sacred Cafe in Soho, off Carnaby Street @ 9
-E
I stare at the note. No mention of what happened last night, no number to reach him. Only an order, a demand to meet him at the location of HIS choosing. Ugh. So typical.
I’m startled by a text message alert from my iPhone. Some small part of me hopes he somehow got my number and it’s him...why the fuck I’m hoping for that, I have no clue.
Hey. Can’t make it for b-fast this morning. Go on w/o me! -R
I look at the time; 6 o’clock in the morning...I immediately wonder how early Masen snuck out of my room. Oh well, good riddance. I slowly make my way to the bathroom and take a nice hot bath, reliving the memories from last night; how we both struggled for dominance, how his lips felt on my skin, how fucking amazing he felt inside me, how my orgasms had totally turned me into a puddle of goop. Seriously, the man had skills on and off the field, and damn him but I wanted more. My thoughts suddenly remembered his embrace after it was over, how he drew me close, and kissed my neck reverently, like it was something more to him than a fuck. For the first time since my heart was shattered years ago, I totally wanted to do that again.
But I hate him. He’s arrogant, conceited, annoying, I shouldn’t want him. No, I don’t want him at all. It was just one night, no biggie. I can pull myself together.
I HAVE to pull myself together, since I’m interviewing him in three hours. I wonder if he’ll mention anything about last night. Shit, what have I done?
~*~*~*~EtS~*~*~*~
The taxi pulls up to the cafe where I’m to meet Masen about five minutes early, so I take a moment to look at my reflection in the window of the storefront next door. I’m wearing a comfortable red tank and a long, tan cardigan, my jeans, and tan open-toed boots. I’ve also brought along my digital recorder and notepad neatly tucked into my messenger bag, my hair in a loose ponytail. I place my sunglasses on my head and go right into the cafe, expecting to have to wait for him. Because honestly, people like him are never there when they say they will be. They always like to seem as their schedules are full and you’re just a blip in their daily plans. I don’t see him on the ground floor so I place my order and take my coffee and pastry downstairs where the ambiance is warm, dark, and wonderfully soothing. I can smell the faint scent of incense, and that, mixed with coffee is divine. I’m caught by surprise when I spot Masen sitting towards the back in a very cozy-looking sofa, reading a newspaper, drinking his latte. He doesn’t see me yet, so I take a moment to take him in. He’s in a white v neck t-shirt the hugs all the right places, low-slung jeans, black and white adidas shoes, and a tattered cubs cap. His sunglasses are hanging from the V of his shirt, brow furrowed and lips pursed slightly in concentration. I exhale deeply, realizing I was holding my breath and walk towards him. He hears my footsteps on the wood floor and looks up at me with an apprehensive stare.Not The Smirk, I see...weird. He’s usually so sure of himself.
“I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“I told you 9 am, I meant it.”
“I know, I just figured you’d be late.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Oh, um....well, I just figured all you sports types had all sorts of appointments to keep up with, and this is a pretty insignificant one for you, I’m sure.”
He pauses for a moment, staring at me with an indescribable expression. I feel awkward and on display, so I sit down across from him and take a sip from my coffee. As I start to take out my recorder, pen and notepad, he stills my hand by placing his over it. I immediately feel the warm buzz again at contact.
“I don’t treat interviews as insignificant... and you are... not insignificant,” he finally says, unsure of himself.
Who the hell is this guy, and what has he done with Masen? I hesitantly pull my hand away from his in an effort to regain control of myself.
“Oh, I was just stating what my experience has been in the past.”
“Well, I’m glad I was able to shatter the stereotype,” and...The Smirk is back.
“Well, that’s still up for debate.”
Now, I’m not sure if we’re still talking about the interview anymore. Geez.
“Look, I’m just gonna put this out there so we can get it out of the way and move on,” I begin. He stares, interested in what I’m about to say.
“What happened last night, happened. We were two consenting adults, you and I both wanted it, we fucked, no strings, no explanations needed; it was nice, and that’s it. We can both go back to our regularly scheduled programming. It won’t happen again, ok?” I stop before I ramble on in my own stupid monologue.
He looks...well, he looks at me with what I can only describe as a mix of resignation and.....disappointment? Is he disappointed? I have no idea why he would be.
“Um, ok,” is all he replies, and takes another sip from his coffee before setting it down and clasping his hands with arms outstretched, cracking his knuckles, “Well, why don’t we get this show on the road then?”
“Uh, sure, great idea.” Shit, why am I second-guessing what I just told him?
I click the record button and set my notepad in front of me and start asking him several generic questions about his position on the team, how he feels now that the MLS is looking to recruit him, how he feels about possibly moving back to the States; simple, direct, impersonal questions. He answers perfectly, professionally and I’m finally feeling more comfortable doing what I do best... well, besides sex.
“What would you say is the driving force behind your success?”
“Well, the faith my family has in me has always been what pushes me to do more, to do better, to be a better person. I really feel without them, all of this is worth absolutely nothing.”
So, he has a soft spot for his family. That’s endearing....I wonder if they know he’s a man-whore. Ugh, shut up Swan, none of your concern.
“How does your family feel about your success?”
“They’re very proud of me for sure. They know I’ve come a long way from where I was up until now, and they know I always remember where I come from and that I’ll always represent them the best way I can.”
Hmm...strange answer, “Can you be more specific? I’m sure your fans would love to know how you got to where you are now and...”
“I’d rather not discuss that actually. I have no comment,” he declares abruptly and curtly. I fumble for a moment at his response and try to keep the flow of questioning going as best as I can.
“Oh, um, alright. Um, you seem to be a little nostalgic with your answers regarding your family. Do you regret coming to the UK to play? Is there anything you would’ve done differently?”
“No, I don’t regret any of my decisions, even if I am a little homesick. Though I love playing for Arsenal, I have to admit the thought of playing for a team in the States is very enticing.”
The questions continue for well over an hour before I ask some questions about little things we may not know about him, and I ask my final question after the coffee has been drunk, and the pastries are gone.
“Any hidden talents?” Shit, why did I just ask that?
He quirks the side of his mouth and his green eyes dance with mischief. He leans forward and covers the microphone of my recorder, “I thought you discovered those last night. If I remember correctly, you were pretty pleased with my...talents,” he says in a low, seductive tone.
Ugh...I walked right into that one. He releases his hand from the recorder and leans back against the sofa, hands clasped behind his head. Asshole.
I click the stop button and glare at him. “Well, I think I have what I need, I won’t take any more of your time since i’m sure you have plenty to do and don’t want me ruining your day off.”
“I’m actually quite enjoying my day off at the moment,” he smirks and eyes me appreciatively. Total eye-fuck.
I move to pack up my things, and he stills my hand again with his. Damn, what the fuck is this man doing to me?
“Actually, there is something I’ve kept hidden from most of the people who I work with and my fans. Do you have anything else going on now?”
I’m taken aback by the request, and I answer carefully. “Not really, no, I just have to get these notes and your quotes written out and emailed to my boss before four, New York time.”
“Well, would you like to take a walk with me to my flat? It’s just a few blocks away, I want to show you something.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I roll my eyes.
“I thought I made myself perfectly clear before, Masen, I’m not going to....”
“Relax, Swan, I was just messing with you. There’s actually something legitimate I want to show you but it has to be at my flat.”
What the hell do I do? I could shoot him down and avoid being too close, too personal. But if I do reject him, I’ll look like I can’t handle the challenge. I finally decide to go for it; I can be professional, I can be cold and calculated.....maybe?
He rises and extends his hand, suggesting that I walk out first. I hesitantly walk towards the exit and I feel his hand guide me at the small of my back. I shiver slightly at the contact. I hope he doesn’t notice.
We walk toward his flat and take the lift to the top floor. He opens the door to a wide, open floor plan that’s all whites and light wood and windows. It’s truly breathtaking and I’m immediately drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows that meet at one corner, overlooking the incredible West End skyline.
“Wow, this is nice,” is all I can come up with, seriously.
“Yeah, I guess it’s alright,” he chuckles, and I turn my head and raise an eyebrow.
“But this isn’t what I wanted to show you. Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me through his magnificent space. We walk through the huge kitchen and dining room and leads me up the stairs to another large living area with huge windows again, framing a beautiful view of the city. I stop all movement when I see a beautiful baby grand Steinway tucked towards the corner where the windows are. He lets go of my hand and walks towards the piano and sits.
“This....this is what i wanted to show you,” he says as he gently pets his prized possession. He then closes his eyes and places his long fingers into position upon the keys and starts to play a beautiful melody that I immediately recognize as a Nocturne from Chopin. It’s the same one my grandmother would play on her old record player when I’d come and visit her in Phoenix every Sunday. She always told stories about how she wanted to be a famous concert pianist, until she met Gramps and married at 17. Strange that Masen should choose this one out of all other Nocturnes to play.
I start to slowly walk towards him, almost afraid of breaking the aura he’s creating with the notes and I stop just a few feet in front of him, enraptured and more than a little confused by the feelings his playing inspires in me. l feel as if everything else is melting around me, save the two of us and the music. I start to well up, about to break, but manage to push down the memories associated with the melody.
In that one moment, I can hear all his emotions pour out onto the music. His fingers dancing on the keys as if caressing them, almost exactly the way they felt on my stomach when he held me close to him last night. I start to heat up, closing my eyes, I float away with the sounds in the air until he brings the performance to a close.
I open my eyes and he’s staring at me with such intensity, I feel as if I’m being pulled towards him with his eyes alone.
Something chirps loudly from my bag. And just like that, the spell is broken. I excuse myself and apologize for the rude interruption, as I glance and see that Rose has sent me another text.
Did you get swallowed up by Masen? Where the hell are you? I need to talk to you! -R
“Um, I’m sorry, I really have to get going. That was really beautiful...you play....beautifully...Chopin, right?”
He gives me a genuine smile, like I just gave him a puppy on Christmas morning.
“Yes, yes it is....very impressive, Swan. I never pegged you for the classical type.”
“Well there’s quite a bit you don’t know about me, Masen.”
“That’s something I’d like to remedy one day,” he says, The Smirk back in full force.
“Highly unlikely. I’m heading back to New York in a couple of days, and we’ll both be pretty busy, sorry...Anyway, thanks for the mini-concert, I’ll just let myself out,” I turn towards the door. But before I can get to it, I feel him suddenly grab my arm gently and face me. His green eyes sparkling and clear.
“Bella, I just want to let you know....I mean, if it’s any consolation, that I think you are very unique, and...beautiful, and um...I guess what I’m trying to say is that, you’re sexy as shit, and even if you may not want what happened last night to happen again, I want you to know, my door’s open. There’s plenty I want to do to you, with you, and I think...no, I know...you’d enjoy yourself.” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. He thinks he’s a suave motherfucker. He might be right.
“I, um....,” I clear my throat, “thanks for the offer, but I can’t. I don’t do repeats.”
“But you were willing to with Alec? Or are you finally going to admit it was all for show, a game against me?” He’s back to his douchy self in a heartbeat.
“It’s none of your business who I choose to fuck or not. You may be hot, and sexy, and one of the best lays I’ve ever had,” ooops, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, “and serenaded me with your musical fuckery, but I know better than to invest any emotions in the likes of you. I know your kind; I happen to be a member of your club, and I’m not interested. Good day, Mr. Masen.” And with that final nail in the coffin, I rush out the door, taking a taxi back to the hotel.
All through the ride back, my mind races with everything we said to each other today, and I have to admit I was a bit harsh with him. But I have to protect myself. I can’t let my heart get the better of me anymore; it only manages to pull me down, not letting me move forward towards what I want. I pull out my cell and type a quick text to let Rose know I’m on my way.
When I arrive, she’s in the lobby, pacing back and forth worriedly, until she sees me and halts. I walk towards her, and what comes out of our mouths is epic.
“I fucked Masen.”
“I fucked McCarty.” We both blurt out at the same time, a look of shock in both our faces.
See? I told you.....EPIC.
No comments:
Post a Comment