Unforgettable 2 (Hollywood Love Story #2) (13 page)

“Zoey, no more playing games. No more testing me. Do you understand?”

I nod like a bobblehead doll, unable to get a single word out.

“Zoey, I need words.”

“I understand, sir.” I manage, my voice a mere croak.

And then suddenly, I feel his powerful knees press hard against me. They bounce me into a standing position, but as I rise, my knees buckle beneath my legs. Clasping my waist, he catches me before I collapse onto the floor. Heaving, I let him hold my limp body in his arms.

“Shh, baby.” Still holding me firmly in one arm, he lifts his other hand and smooths my hair. “Why didn’t you use your safe word?”

“I’m sorry,” I sob out from my quivering lips. Hot tears continue to stream from my eyes.

“No, I’m sorry.” His voice is soft and compassionate. “Did I hurt you?”

“A little,” I lie. Yes, it hurt like hell, but I loved every erotically charged minute. My safe word was nowhere near the tip of my tongue.

“Come here.” Wordlessly, he draws me in closer until my breasts graze his chest. My sensitized nipples pucker beneath my dress, sending another rush of wetness to my sex. His rock-hard cock presses against me as he caresses my sore butt. His tender touch is so soothing. The pain mixes with pleasure. Still in stilettos, I rest my head against his pecs. My eyes clamp shut as his heartbeat drums in my ear like a sweet lullaby. My crying subsides.

I don’t know how long we stay in this position until his sultry voice awakens me from my state of nirvana. I gaze up at him. His eyes are hooded and a faint smile plays on his lips. With one hand, he brushes away my remaining tears. Thank God, I wore waterproof mascara. One hot wet mess is enough.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to your party. And let’s forget this ever happened.”

I nod, knowing I will
never
forget this moment. This experience. Commiting it to memory, I catch my breath.

Five minutes later, we’re back in his sports car. This time he drives down the twisting, hilly roads slowly, meandering as if he never wants our journey to end. And truthfully, neither do I. “All of Me” plays on the radio. The lyrics fill my head and my heart.

The painful truth hits me like a rockslide. I turn my head toward him, glimpsing his intensely beautiful profile. A runaway tear trickles down my face. Yes, all of me loves all of him.

“Go,” he says stoically as he drops me off.

The elegant dining room of Fig & Olive is still filled and bustling. Adjusting my dress, I stumble back to my table. Jeffrey and his friends are in the middle of eating dinner. Everything looks and smells delicious, but I’m not hungry.

“Zoester, where’d you go?” asks Jeffrey as I take my seat.

I fumble for an excuse. “Um, uh, I had to help Brandon with some lines. He had a panic attack.” I blink several times, holding back confused tears. My intuitive brother’s gaze stays on me, and from the look on his face, I can tell he’s concerned. He knows how I feel about Brandon.

Chaz, who has no clue, looks at me shrewdly. “C’mon, Zoeykins. You really want us to believe that? You have that just-fucked look going on!”

“Honey, leave her alone,” says Jeffrey to no avail.

Mortification races through me. My face is flushing. I hastily take a gulp of my still there bubbly. Chaz’s comment elicits a heated reaction from the clearly buzzed group.

I defend myself. “No way would I sleep with my boss.”

“That didn’t stop, my tiger,” chimes in Blake before giving his wife an affectionate peck on the cheek.

“Blake!” shrieks a reddening Jennifer. “Say no more. And that goes for the rest of you too.”

Chaz snorts with laugher. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone about how you two fucked in Blake’s fuck pad at the Conquest Broadcasting Christmas party.”

It’s Blake’s turn to look embarrassed while the others roar with laughter.

“C’mon, Zoey, tell us the truth,” begs a loaded Libby, the penultimate market researcher who’s always asking questions and seeking answers.

I take another sip of champagne. “It
is
the truth.”
Kind of?
Unless zipless fucks count. “And besides, Brandon’s engaged to Katrina Moore.” The taste of her name on my tongue nauseates me.

“Bratrina!” sneers Chaz.

In unison, the others mimic him. My brother, however, clasps my free hand under table, giving it a knowing, affectionate squeeze. As much as I love and can confide in him, I’ll never tell him what transpired tonight between Brandon and me.

Libby cuts into her steak. “Poor Brandon.”

Poor me. I’m drowning in self-pity.

Brandon

“D
rop to your hands and knees!”

“But, sir!”

“Private Hart, you are not to question my orders. Now do it!”

Clad in a camouflage pattern lace bra that pushes up her voluptuous breasts and a matching G-string, she obediently gets down on all fours, shoving her sweet ass up in the air. Her face is flush from just giving herself an epic orgasm. Her gorgeous, curvaceous body trembles at the perilous possibilities ahead.

Admiring her sensuous beauty, I loom over her. I’m in a drill sergeant’s uniform, wearing polished, knee-high leather boots and wielding a whip in my hand. Sergeant Taylor, my newest role. I crack the whip against the floor narrowly missing her. The sharp thwack is like music to my ears.

“At-ten-tion!” She arches her back and looks up at me, her lips quivering with fear and anticipation. The hungry look on her face for the pain I’m about to inflict brings my dick to attention. The power between my legs infiltrates my entire body.

“Private Hart, you disobeyed me. What happens to naughty little soldiers who don’t listen to their commanders?”

“They get punished…sir.”

I crack a wicked smile, pleased she’s addressed me properly. “That’s right. You must pay the price of coming before I said you could. Did you forget I’m in charge and your orgasms are under my command?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

I smack my lips and shake my head. “When will you ever learn? Do I have to send you back to Boot Camp for more basic training?”

“Please, no!”

“No, who?”

“S-sir.”

Gulping, she bows her head in submission and doesn’t see it coming. With an iron fist, I swipe the leather whip against her ripe ass. She winces and arches. I stand back and admire my handiwork. A pink streak welts up on her exposed tender flesh.

“Now give me fifty.”

She looks up at me again with those imploring big brown eyes in search of forgiveness. Mercy’s not part of my vocabulary. I give her another sharp lash.
Whoosh!
Then another and another. She whimpers, then weeps. Tears fall at my feet, a few clustering like dew drops on my shiny boots. The rhythmic thwacks of the whip clash with her hitched, harsh sobs, creating an erotic symphonic cacophony. I can feel the heat rise from her burning cheeks. A canvas of intersecting bas-relief lines in fifty shades of pink has turned her ass into a priceless masterpiece. My cock is raging. It may burst through my khakis. I have to have her, but I exert control.

“Now, move it!”

Wordlessly, she begins to do push-ups. Those pathetic, wimpy, girly kind. But I love the way her big tits graze the ground and the way her scrumptious ass moves up and down with each successive pump. I badly want to fuck it…good and hard.

“Let me hear you count, soldier. Start from one.”

“One…two…three…” By twenty, she’s breathless and trembling with fatigue. Sweat clustered on her chest, she gazes up at me with urgency.

“Private Hart requests permission to stop.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please, sir, please!”

Fuck. I love when she begs. “At ease. Get up on your knees.”

With a breath of relief, she kneels before me. Her flushed chest rises and falls, her plump tits stirring with lust. Oh, what a beautiful sight! I dangle my whip and dust the tip across each nipple, one after the other. She moans. As they harden into two mini torpedoes that want to shoot through the lace fabric of her bra, my cock strains.

On my next breath, I yank down my fly. My big gun springs free. A weapon of mass destruction, it’s level with her impassioned face. I splay my big hand on the top of her head and urge her to take it. I hiss as her warm mouth wraps around the crown.

“Take it all,” I bark.

Obediently, my good little soldier goes down on it, trailing her tongue along the thick rigid shaft. Oh, yeah. I’ve trained her well. I clench my fists by my sides and groan each time it hits the back of her throat. I could easily detonate at the base and coat it with a full load, but I’ve got other plans. My cock’s wet and ready. I withdraw and circle behind her before getting down on my knees. My big, glistening erection brushes against the two adorable dimples centered above her red-checkered cheeks. Pursing my lips, I bend over and blow a cool breath on her raw, rosy flesh.

“Does that feel good, Private?” I breathe against her fiery backside.

“Oh yes, sir!” she gasps.

“What about this?” One hand slides between her splayed thighs and makes its way to her pussy. Fuck. She’s so hot and wet. I’ve aroused her as much as she’s aroused me. Pressing my thumb on her throbbing clit, I plunge two fingers into her slick slit, shoving them deep inside until my fingertips touch the warm flesh of her womb. She lets out a soft moan.

I slap her sore ass. “Answer me, soldier. How does it feel?”

I jab a little harder. She gasps.

“I need words.”

“Oh, so, so good, sir!”

A smirk curls on my lips. “That’s better.”

I run circles around her clit with my thumb, turning it into a hard nub. More moans and groans escape her throat.

“Oh, please, Sergeant Taylor, fuck me.”

I yank back her head by her ponytail and meet her heated gaze. She yelps.

“Careful. I give the orders.” I tug again at her mane. “Is that what you want? For me to fuck you hard?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is a desperate rasp.

It’s time to get down to business. I’m so fucking turned on. Releasing her silky hair and withdrawing my soaked hand from her slickness, I rub my hard as nails dick with her pussy juices, lubing it further. Using both hands, I spread her rosy cheeks wide and aim it at her opening. My hand wraps around my enormous pulsing shaft, and inch by thick inch, I barrel into her tight puckered hole. She winces. I hiss. So fucking good. Oh, yeah, she’s going to get it hard. So hard she’ll be begging me to stop. But I’m going to fuck her brains out. Fuck her to oblivion before she can cry out her safe word. Clutching her hips, I begin to pummel her…

CUT! Fade to black.

My alarm goes off. The end of another kinky wet dream.
To be continued
. My eyes snap open and I shakily sit up. The covers are torn off me. I have a raging boner. And I know why. I can’t get my assistant, Zoey Hart, out of my head. She’s literally and figuratively under my skin. I dreamt about her. Relived last night’s spanking in a crazy, cinematic fantasy. Jesus. Sergeant Fucking Taylor. Wielding a whip. Fucking her ass. How far will I take my sexual proclivities? My need for dominance? My need to possess her?

Last night should have never happened. But it did. It was all about control, but I’m the one who lost it. Jealousy fueled my rage and rage fueled my dominance which fueled my need to punish her. Sure, I told her to forget about the spanking, but that’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be next to impossible. The same for me. I wish I could blank it out. Bury it in the vortex of my amnesia. I dread facing her and can’t fathom how we’ll continue to work together. Now what? Maybe we need to talk about it.