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“What the fuck are you doing?” he laughs. “Are you trying to fuck me, Warmoth?”

“No! Let me go, Connor. I’m serious.”

“Promise me you won’t hit me and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m not promising you anything!”

“Then I’m not letting go.”

That’s when something inside me flips.

I can’t decide if I feel exhilarated or humiliated. Maybe both at the same time. I’m caught on a high wire between giving up and letting go. No matter which way I lean, there is no net to save me. One way or the other, I’m going to fall into the unknown. When in doubt, look at the facts at hand: An ultra hot man who I’ve known for years is pressing up against me. I have intense feelings for this man. They may be feelings of hate, but they are very real. Somehow, it drives me wild. I’m ashamed. Embarrassed. Literally
bare
-assed. And insanely turned on. I whisper, “Fuck me, Connor.”

“Is that an order,
Miss
War Mouth?”

I hiss. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Connor
Screws
. You know you want to.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I didn’t. It’s an order.”

“You’re not in a position to give any orders, Warmoth.”

“Stop being such a pussy and fuck me, big man. Or can’t you get it up for a real woman?” I almost laugh. I can’t believe I said that. I’ve
never
said anything like that. I have zero experience with dirty talk of any kind. My vanilla bedroom experience involved only grunting and moaning.

“I can get it up, Warmoth.”

Something jingles behind me. Sounds like his belt buckle.

“I’ve been waiting to do this forever,” he grunts.

My drenched thong is pulled away from my folds. Something hard and stiff parts my slick channel, the backs of my legs spasming and my thighs quivering as it slides up and down, up and down. “Is that your finger?”

“Yup.”

“Where the fuck is your cock? What are you doing?”

“Inspecting the fuckin merchandise.”

“I’m
not
your fucking
merchan
—” My words are cut off when his finger wetly circles my clit. Pleasure pours into me and I moan long and low.

“You like this, don’t you,” he mutters in my ear, his chest hard against my back. My breasts are pressed against the table top. The cups chafe against my nipples, which are swollen and tight.

“Mmmm,” I moan. His finger fills me again, probing deeper. This is the first time a man has touched me downstairs in
years
. I never realized a fucking finger could send me to the moon. When he releases my other arm, I throw both hands on the table top in front of me. “Take me, Connor. Put your cock inside me.” I push my hips back against him.

His other hand grabs me by the hip while he caresses my clit. Every muscle in my pelvis starts to squeeze as a powerful orgasm begins to build. Breathless, I gasp, “I’m going to come, Connor. I’m going to—”

“No you’re not.”

Suddenly his finger is gone and he pulls away.

The tinkling sound of his buckling belt.

“What are you doing, Connor?” I look behind me.

“Leaving you hot and bothered. Let’s do this interview.”

“What? No! Finish what you started, you piece of shit!” I glance over at the pristine king size bed, which was obviously made up by the maids since this morning.

He laughs. “What happened to the all important interview? I thought this was your
job
.” He’s mocking me. Standing there fully dressed while I’m bent over a table with my ass in the air and my skirt around my waist and he’s mocking me.

I twist around and yank my skirt down. “Screw you, Connor! I’m leaving!” I grab my purse off the floor and glare at him.

“You don’t know what you want, do you?”

“I—” Deflate. He’s right. I don’t. “I hate you, Connor,” I pout.

“Me too. Weird, isn’t it?”

“You hate yourself?” I quip.

“Yup. And you.”

I frown. “I don’t hate myself.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t know. Stop asking so many questions.”

“
Me
asking so many questions? Are you hearing yourself, Ms. Interviewer?”

I stare up at him, unable to stop myself from smiling. “You know what’s funny?” I ask it with mild amusement.

“What’s that?”

“My job is to get people like you to admit things they would never tell a soul, then it gets printed in a magazine and on the internet so the whole world can read about it. Then I get paid. And what do they get? I mean, really?”

“Is this a serious question?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs. “I don’t fuckin know. Validation? Publicity? Notoriety?”

I snort. “I don’t know either.” Today has been confusing from beginning to end, to say the least. I flash a smirky smile at him.

“Did you want me to finish raping you?” He arches a thoughtful eyebrow.

“No means no, Connor,” I quip.

He laughs. “I don’t know about you, Warmoth, but I could use a fuckin drink.”

“Me too.” I walk toward him and slap him across the mouth.

He chuckles, completely unaffected. “What the fuck was that, Warmoth?”

“That’s what you get for not finishing what you started, Connor
Screws
.” I strut proudly past him toward the door. “Let’s go. I need that drink.” I open the door. “Are you coming?”

“Later.” He glares at me with wild eyes. “When you finish what we started.”

“Maybe after we have that drink.
Maybe
.” I wink at him and walk out of his hotel room.

“Have fun,” he hollers out the door. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I thought we were getting a drink?”

He shrugs.

“Can you be
any
more frustrating?”

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and—

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

CONNOR

I slam her up against the inside of my hotel room door. She claws at my shirt and our tongues fight for dominance as we kiss with mad passion. I force her skirt over her hips and pull her into me by the front of her thong. She pushes my shirt up and smears her hands across my chest. I rip her blouse open, sending the buttons flying off in every direction.

I expect her to say something about the blouse, but she doesn’t. I roll her bra up without bothering to unhook it. I squeeze one gorgeous tit and bite the other by the nipple.

She moans and sinks against the door.

I grunt and lift her back up by the thong.

She whimpers as I force my tongue back into her mouth. My finger slips inside her wet pussy.

I’m hard as a fuckin rock.

“Fuck me, Connor,” she whispers. “Please.”

Hearing her beg makes me twice as hard.

I pick her up by the ass and she wraps her legs around my waist. I walk to the bed and throw her on the comforter.

She pushes up on her elbows.

I dive between her legs and bite her thong, pulling on it like it’s dinner.

“What are you doing?” she gasps.

I snarl and let the thong snap against her. She yelps. I yank them all the way off and throw them in the trash. Two points. I glare at her.

Her eyes flash.

“I’m going to eat your wet fuckin pussy until you lose your fuckin mind.”

“Connor, I—” She sounds worried.

She should be. My mouth is all over her heat a second later. She tastes so fuckin sweet I can’t get enough.

Her hands grab my hair in knots.

My tongue laps her tangy wetness. I’m so fuckin thirsty for her pussy I swallow every last drop.

She moans loud.

“Come all over my face,” I grunt.

She comes hard.

Her hips buck against my mouth as I suck her clit and drink her down. Fuck she tastes so fuckin good.

She gasps like she just finished a four minute mile. Every time she says a word, her chest fills and her stomach flattens. “Connor— That— Was— So— Fucking— Good—”

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

“I want you inside me right now,” I gasp, completely out of breath. I can’t believe how hard I just came. I’ve never had a man
ravish
me like that. I want more.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“What?” I’m worried.

“I’m out of condoms.”

“What?
Noooo
,” I groan and drop my head against the comforter and stare at the ceiling.

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding,” I laugh.

“Nope.”

“I’m not on the pill. And you’re not pulling out. My friend in college got pregnant that way. And you probably have more diseases than the CDC.”

“I’m clean. I use condoms with everybody. I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

This is seriously ruining the mood. “Want a blow job?” I say it sarcastically and with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

He snorts. “Not from a corpse.”

“I’m not a corpse.”

“You sound like one. Let’s go get that fuckin drink.” He sounds angry.

I kind of don’t care. I sigh. “Sure.” I sit up on the bed. “Can I have my panties?”

“No.”

“What? Give me my panties.”

He shakes his head. “They’re mine. You got an orgasm, I get your panties.”

“You’re a pervert,” I laugh.

“Says you,” he grins. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without my panties.”

“Yes you are. Get up. Let’s go.”

I stand up. “You’re crazy, right? My blouse has no buttons!”

“Tie it.”

“No, Connor! This is an expensive blouse! I’m not going to tie it in knots.”

“It’s already ruined. What difference does it make? We’ll go up to the Strip. Nobody will care.”

“I’m not going to the Sunset Strip looking like this! I need to change into a different outfit!” My brows knit. “Oh shit! My clothes!”

“What?”

“My laundry,” I groan, slouching over with my elbows between my knees. “I had to pull everything out when it was still wet this morning. So I could come back and interview your sorry ass,” I smirk at him. “My wet laundry has been sitting in my trunk all day. I really need to go home and go to Lucy’s so I can rewash everything and dry it.”

“Why don’t you do it here?”

“At the hotel?”

“They have laundry service. I can charge it to my room.”

“That’s sweet, Connor. But I can’t ask you to do that.”

“So let’s go to Lucy’s. We can watch the spin cycle together like we’re the fuckin Brady Bunch.”

“No,” I chuckle. “I’m not going to make you sit in a laundry mat with me until midnight while my clothes dry. I can do it myself.”

“You shouldn’t be hanging out at an all night laundry mat by yourself, Lex. This is L.A. Not the valley.”

“Why do you keep calling me Lex?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It feels right.”

My heart starts to flutter for no good reason. “Stop staring at me.”

He doesn’t. His blue eyes penetrate mine.

Liquid energy slides down my spine and pools between my legs where there’s already a tempest of pent up desire. God damn it, I wish he had a condom.

“Let’s get your clothes out of your car. Come on,” he commands, nodding toward the door. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

I knot my blouse below my boobs and grab my purse. At least he didn’t tear my bra off. Then I’d have to go topless. That gives me an idea. I pull my blouse off.

“What are you doing?” he chuckles.

“Whatever I want.” I unsnap my bra and throw it at his face. “You can have this too, asshole.” I retie my blouse. “Let’s go.”

He folds my bra up and shoves it in his back pocket. “I can totally see your nipples through your blouse.”

I glance down. He’s right. They’re not just poking against the thin rayon, they’re visible through the light colored fabric. “Good. Then maybe I can find some other idiot smart enough to keep condoms handy so
he
can screw me. Let’s go.” I walk toward the door.

He’s staring at me.

“What?” I’m suddenly embarrassed, but I try to hide it.

“Do you
ever
let your hair down?”

“I thought I just did.” Going braless and pantyless is definitely what I’d call letting my hair down.

“No,” he chuckles. “I mean
actually
let your hair down?”

I reach up and touch my bun, which I can tell is coming apart. “Shit. How does it look?” I step into the bathroom and flick the lights on.

Connor steps up behind me. In the mirror, he looms over me.

“Get out of here! I’m fixing my hair.”

He chuckles. “You’re crazy. I just had my face in your pussy and you’re worried about me seeing you fix your hair?”

“I don’t need to make sense to you. Out.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fine.” I unknot my bun and let my hair fall. I run my fingers through it, shaking it out.

“Damn, Lex. You have incredible hair. I didn’t realize it was so damn long.”

“Thanks,” I smirk, trying to figure out what to do with it.

“You know, I don’t think I ever saw you wear it loose in high school. You always had it in a pony tail.”

“I did?”

“Yup. Oh, wait. Except on grad night.”

The room freezes.

We stare at each other in the bathroom mirror.

I frown. “Don’t talk about grad night.”

He heaves a sigh and lowers his eyes. “I’ll let you fix your hair.” He walks out of the bathroom.

What was that about? Was that regret I saw on his face? It should be. He was a total asshole that night. I shake my head. I don’t want to think about it.

I play with my auburn hair, considering options. My lipstick is gone and my eyeliner is a shadow of its former self. Fuck it. I don’t even care. I storm out of the bathroom, “Let’s go before I change my mind about that drink. This day has been a complete disaster.” I stare at him, challenging him to disagree.

“I’m enjoying it,” he chuckles.

“You would,” I scoff, but find that I sort of agree with him.

To avoid bumping into any convention-goers who might still be wandering the hotel hallways, we take the stairs to the underground garage where my car is parked. Surprise, my clothes are still damp and soapy. To my further surprise, Connor insists on carrying my laundry basket for me.

“Can I have my panties back?” I ask as we walk back toward the stairs. It was one thing to go commando up in his hotel room. Now that we’re out in public, I’m very aware of how little I’m wearing.