Extra Extra (Working Girl Series Book 1) Page 3

  It takes a second for me to realize I’m naked and even longer for my brain to catch up to my body for me to pull the fragmented pieces of last night together, but when they do, holy fuck the images. Sex kitten Shelly preens inside me and fuck it Nancy is doing the damn jig. Even Gladis, the greedy cunt, is satisfied, which is a feat in itself. I fucked Justin. Hell, fuck is a tame word for what we did. Porn has nothing on us and all the magical things we did to each other’s bodies. Beside me, he’s comatose, tired out from the champagne and our late-night excursions. Heard of Dancing with the Stars? We did our own rendition behind the venue in the forest line called The horizontal Mambo Under the Stars. And it didn’t stop there. I may have sucked him off during the cab ride to his place, not caring if the driver had a front-row seat. And once we got to his house, the real fun began.

  Justin’s place has a lot of floor to ceiling windows which now need to be thoroughly cleaned. Why may you ask? Well, because they are now covered in tit smudges combined with both of our handprints. I’m sure there’s even an asscheek smudge here and there as well. They say alcohol affects a guy’s ability to perform but with Justin, I’d wager you a Maury ‘that’s a lie’. Because boy, can he fuck. The man is a sex machine, and he can get it up in no time at all like he’s on Viagra. And boy, can he fuck. He gave both Gladis and sex kitten Shelly a run for their money. He’s a sex god. Champion of the D. The Energizer fucking Bunny. I can think of a thousand titles and all of them have the same meaning ‘he fucked me good’.

  “Morning,” he mumbles beside me in a sleepy voice that shouldn’t be sexy but is.

  “Ah… morning,” I reply. Shit, I’ve been basking in the memory of his… talents, and he’s woken up. Now I can’t just leave and do the walk of shame from wherever the fuck this was.

  “So, what a night?” I say lamely 'cause really, what can I say? Thanks for fucking me stupid, but I really need to go home now and bash my head against a wall for being so rash. I’m a trainwreck still managing to screech along the rails as I head toward a gaping hole in the middle of the track. I still don’t know what Justin’s deal is or his connection to Paige. And unfortunately, I still have Superman to deal with back at home, wait scratch that, I mean The Turd. That’s that asshole’s new name from now on. Not to mention the ramifications of dumping him, which include trying to keep my job. A one night stand with a dude, no matter how hot he is or amazing in bed he was, that I met at a wedding reception shouldn’t be on my list. “Where the fuck were you Sophia?”

  “Is everything okay? You’re not upset, are you?” he asks sheepishly, running his hands through his messy locks, and fuck, I groan, taking in his pectoral muscles. Already on a path to fuck it all to hell, my eyes take a blazing trail checking out the merchandise I sampled last night. I was right, he is ripped. One, two, three, four, oh look he has some more. Five, six, seven, eight, and, oh my God, look at that V. Not caring how it looks, I lift his comforter to gaze at the prettiest dick I have ever seen in my entire life. He’s big, probably nine maybe even ten inches, a shade darker than his skin. His mushroom tip is so yummy looking, I can see why I had to have a taste in the cab. It’s tempting me, wooing me to become a vegetarian. He’s also shaved, which is just how I like them. Who wants to run into a big bush when you’re playing tag with your epiglottis? Not me, thank you.

  “Do I pass your expectation?” he asks, amused.

  I’ll say. He more than passes, but too bad we can never be. Oh yeah? Tell that to the bite marks all over his body. You practically licked him clean last night.

  Shut up, Gloria, no one asked you. “You don’t need me to feed your ego and tell you you’re hot.”

  “True, but it’s nice to hear from a gorgeous woman.”

  “Did we use a condom?” I ask randomly. I didn’t see any rubbers laying around, but I’m not as slick as I should be if he came inside me. I’m not worried about getting pregnant, I’m on the shot, but I don’t know him from Adam or his sex life, or how many other women he’s been with. With moves like his, he’s no amateur.

  “No,” he says sheepishly. "When I tried to put one on, you snatched it away and threw it, saying something along the lines of you’re on the shot and Gladis really enjoys gobbling up cum shots. We ended the night in the shower, where I cleaned you up.”

  “Oh.” Fucking hell. No more alcohol for me.

  “If you’re worried, I’m clean. I haven’t had sex in over six months and have been tested since then.”

  “Six months?” I screech. “You’re bullshitting me, right?” He has to be lying. There’s no way in hell someone who looks like him hasn’t had sex in six months.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Oh wow. Why?” I question genuinely curious.

  “Part of my complicated past I’d rather not talk about. You’re the first woman, besides the one I shouldn’t be lusting after, I’ve been attracted to. At the reception, you were a bright flame drawing me in like a moth. Even now, I can’t look away from those beautiful golden eyes.”

  “They’re light brown or hazel,” I interrupt, trying to make light of the subject. He’s speaking like this isn’t a one-time thing and I’m not sure if I can promise him anything more.

  “When you’re lit up like you are now, they are gold. A treasure you make me want to covet and hide away behind a rainbow.”

  Well, fuck. That’s poetic.

  “Stop! Halt! Take three steps back. Don’t pass go, don’t collect my cooch. You’re getting a little too deep for me. I’m not gonna lie. Last night was fucking amazing. Mind-blowing even. But nothing can come from it except a nice time in Freaky Land. You live in Cali, I live in New York. You obviously have issues if you look like you do and are single, nor did you bat an eye when I told you that I have multiple personalities. I’m a fucking mess. A Shakespeare's tragedy in the making. Dude, you have no clue how fucked up my life is right now. Last night was a nice escape, but just like when the morning came for Romeo, we need to get gone.”

  “You’re a cruel woman. Cold, but I understand.”

  I hate myself. I hate that I'm the one to make him sad, but someone has to be the reasonable one. That lost look has returned in his eyes and it’s all my fault. Bitch, Sophia whispers and I widen my eyes in surprise. Aren’t you supposed to be the voice of reason?

  “I’m sorry,” I say even though it doesn’t do shit.

  “No, you aren’t, but like I said, I understand. Do you want to get a shower before I drop you off?” he offers before getting to his feet.

  “I could shower,” I answer, and even though I have no right to, my eyes follow his beautiful naked body all the way to the door.

  “I’ll use the guest bathroom, you can use the master,” he replies before walking away. My eyes dip to his ass and oh shit, he has ass dimples. Come to think of it, I licked those too.

  With a groan, I get up and stretch my sore body. I may have left a road map on his body, but he left one on mine too. I even have a trail of hickeys leading from the middle of my breasts to my cunt. Poor Gladis, she’s super swollen. I don’t think the Turd ever fucked me this good. With a sigh, I head for the bathroom and turn the water on to the hottest setting and wait until the whole room is filled with steam before getting in. Then I moan in pure bliss as the hot water pelts my skin, massaging my sore muscles. Using his shower gel and a fresh loofah, I carefully cleanse my body, being extra gentle with the tender spots. My dark hair feels like a haystack, so I shampoo and conditioned it, using my fingers to comb through the tangles. Rinsing, I stay under the spay for as long as I can, relishing in the feel of the warm water sloshing down my body. When I get back to Harrison’s, I’m going to sleep the whole weekend away. Maybe by the time I wake up, my insides would have rearranged themselves back to normal.

  Because Gladis is a greedy fucker, my hand dips to my pussy and I place my fingers where I like them, playing Gladis’ favorite tune until I cum with a loud moan. The bathroom door slams open and before I know what’s happening
I’m pulled out the shower and lifted onto the counter. Getting onto his knees, Justin grabs my hips and pulls me forward until my honey pot is right at his mouth and he starts to devour me like a ravenous Pooh Bear. My hands fly to his hair, gripping and pulling, loving the feel of the silky strands. His tongue is downright magical. So magical, it should be rainbow colored with sparkles. It speaks pussy well and it doesn’t take long for me to explode on his tongue, crying out his name.

  Standing, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and backs out the room, leaving me there all alone to recover on my own. Panting hard, I stare in shock. What the fuck? Truthfully, I can’t even be mad. I didn’t tell him last night that this was a one time only deal. Him eating me out doesn’t count. It’s like a bonus scene in a movie. With a sigh, I carefully get off the counter then wrap myself in one of his fluffy towels. I don’t see an extra toothbrush, so I just use his. My mouth was wrapped around his dick last night, milking him like a cow, so using his toothbrush isn’t going to kill me. Besides, I rather not leave with cum breath. How embarrassing.

  When I step into the bedroom, he nods down at the folded clothes in his hands. “I gathered your clothes for you. Your dress has some grass stains on it, so I brought you some of my clothes to put on.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, taking the t-shirt and athletic shorts from him. They’ll be big on me, but it’s better than doing the walk of shame in a designer dress with grass stains. The fashion gods would weep and then curse me.

  “Oh and these,” he says, handing me a silky pair of boxers before leaving me to change.

  Once I’m dressed, I leave his bedroom and find him in the kitchen looking like a wet dream in a polo shirt tight enough to show off his great body, but not so pretentious that he’d look like a douche. The jeans he’s wearing make me want to hug his ass and thank it just for existing. In his hand is a steaming cup of coffee and I nearly drool and beg before he hands it over to me. “Oh, thank God. Coffee is life. You didn’t try to mess with perfection by adding anything to it, did you?”

  “Nope, I like my coffee black.”

  Holding my hand up with a frown, I reply, “Please, don’t say like your soul. That line is so overdone.”

  “I wasn't. I was going to say that my ex loves coffee too. And she’d scalp me if I didn’t make her a cup first.”

  “Sounds like my kind of woman. Is she the reason why you haven’t had sex in so long?”

  “Yes,” he answers forlornly, looking down at his cup.

  “And you’re still hung up on her?” I surmise. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel? If you’re this heartbroken about the breakup, you could try and get her back. You’re hot and a great fuck. Whatever you did can’t be that bad.”

  “I’m afraid it was, but it’s too late now anyway. She’s moved on.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again. Lame fuck it Nancy whispers. Why are you whispering? You’re in my head. It’s not like he can hear you.

  “We should go. I wouldn’t want anyone to worry about you and report you missing.” He walks off before I can reply and I have no choice but to follow. As we’re leaving, I look around his house and notice the opulence of it. I suspected from the suit he wore to the wedding, he had money, and by the looks of this place, I was right. Rich, sexy, great in bed. What the fuck did he do to run off the woman he loved? No, correction, love 'cause he still does.

  “Where to?” he asks like a cabby as soon as I get situated in the passenger seat of his flashy car. When I rattle off my brother’s address, his hands grip the steering wheel until they are white-knuckled. “How do you know the groom?” he asks slowly like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle.

  “He’s my older brother, why?”

  “Shit,” he mumbles so low, I almost miss it.

  “Is something wrong? Do you know my brother?” His odd behavior is pushing my curious button over and over. I’m on three of my nine lives; I really should refrain, but when have I ever done the smart thing first? Logical Sophia drinks.

  “I know him,” he answers vaguely, offering nothing else before pressing the push start and his car comes to life with a soft purr, but that’s not good enough. I need to know.

  “How?” I ask, urging him to elaborate.

  He doesn’t answer. I didn’t think he would after driving all the way from his house to my brother’s in silence. It isn’t until we’re pulling up the driveway that he opens his mouth. “I know your brother because of Paige. She’s my ex,” he says, dropping a bomb, and just my luck, I have nowhere to run for cover.

  Paige’s ex. Holy fuck. I slap my forehead and groan. “You’re that Justin. No wonder your name sounded so familiar. My brother told me about you. In fact, his exact words were to stay the fuck away from you.”

  “I’m not surprised,” he murmurs.

  “You douche. How the fuck could you do that to someone like Paige? My brother isn’t your biggest fan and for good reason. And even though she was the one wronged, I never heard her say an unkind word about you. She even told me you two are friends. So why? Why would you hurt her like that?”

  “It’s complicated,” he answers.

  “Well uncomplicate it. Tell me now,” I demand.

  “Why do you even care? You got what you wanted. A night to escape and I gave it to you real good. I made a mistake with Paige, end of story. I’m still paying for that mistake. Forced to live my sins every fucking day on repeat like a broken record, and if that’s not enough torture, here you are, the first woman to break me from my torment and it turns out you’re a fucking tease. A dream I don’t deserve so it’s being snatched away.” Reaching over me, he opens the door and pushes it open. “Go inside before someone sees me with you.”

  I step out of the car confused and ashamed. My parents taught me better than that, but I’m still reeling over the fact that Justin is Paige’s douchebag ex and I slept with him.

  “Oh, and Brooklyn,” he says as I turn toward the front door. “Don’t worry about my sins, concentrate on your own.”

  I’m an asshole and I deserve that. I know I do, but, dude, he cheated on Pretty in Pink, Princess Paige. They were married, living the fairytale life and he destroyed her by fucking some bimbo at her best friend’s wedding. How fucking low is that? The Turd evens knows better than to fuck me over like he did. I can just feel the hostility circling him and the utter defeat. It’s fucking depressing. I’m torn between being mad at him and wanting to hug him. There are always two sides to a story, so what’s his?

  Seeing my indecision, he says in a low defeated tone, which only makes the two words so much more heartbreaking to hear, “Just go.”

  Giving up, I step away without a backward glance. He waits until I have the front door unlocked and opened before he drives away. The whole time I was with him, he was nothing but sweet and considerate, well except for when he was a sex god, but that’s different. No one wants to fuck someone tame in bed. At least, I don’t. It’s obvious he’s remorseful. Worse, he still loves Paige, even though he knows he lost her forever.

  Man, what-a-fucking-mess.

  With that said, it doesn’t change that I fucked Justin, Paige’s cheating ex Justin. If my brother finds out, he’ll kill him, and probably me too. Fuck pride, I need to watch out for my brother. Is it too late to change my name and leave the country? Gladis, Shelly, Gloria, Sophia, and Nancy are already packed and practicing their Spanish.

  3

  Salon Confessions

  I slept most of Saturday and all Sunday morning, recovering from my time with Justin. My mind is still blown by the fact that he is the asshat that cheated on Paige. She’s damn near perfect, a real rock star. I just don’t get it. His looks aside, Justin was actually a real gentleman. Chivalry is not dead with that one. He opened doors for me, made sure I was comfortable, and paid for the cab ride back to his place. Even though we ended up in his bed, he wasn’t aiming for that outcome like the asshats focused on my body at the reception. Something just doesn�
�t add up and it’s driving me crazy not knowing what. The smart thing to do would be to forget last night, pretend it ever happened, and mind my business. Forget all about him, because if Harrison ever finds out I slept with Justin, I won’t be his dear little sister anymore. And after he gets done filleting Justin, I’ll be next. I like my bones in my body thank you. Plus, it’s not like I don’t have problems of my own to worry about. Speaking of which.

  I glare at my phone like it’s public enemy number one as it vibrates on the coffee table, again. It doesn’t take a genius to guess who it is. The Turd has been calling me non-stop and really I can’t fathom how he has so much free time to harass me like this with his new busy schedule as a celebrity. It took me over an hour to delete all his voice messages from my phone. At least with the text messages, they’re easier to get rid of. All it takes is just one swipe. I don’t even bother reading those. What for? I don’t care what half-ass excuse he’s come up with. That day in the conference room he showed his true colors and it made me realize I never knew him at all. How can I marry a stranger? Besides, if anything this whole experience has taught me is that he doesn’t need me. To ensure happiness, he’d be better off with some nitwit who doesn’t mind playing second fiddle to his ego. Some sad sap his father would be happy to see him with. That’s not me. He never actually said it out loud, but I could tell the man never liked me. Strong women who know what they want in the world must be like repellent to him.

  At the beginning of our relationship, Tom wasn’t too concerned. He probably thought I was a phase. A bit of fun for Andrew until he moved on to the next woman. As long as I fell in line with the other ants at work, performed, and did my job, he didn’t have any problems with me. The real change started to happen when he realized I wasn’t going away and our relationship started to get serious. Before he knew it, a year had passed and we were still going strong and moving in together. Then another year with us still in blissful harmony, and another until Andrew got down on one knee in front of all of us ants at work and proposed. After that, his detest really started to show. Sure at work everything was all sunshine and rainbows, not like I saw the man much being an ant whose office is on a lower floor, but when we were out at dinners and get-togethers, the sneer that was an ever-present look on his face, always aimed directly at me.