Down n' Dirty Read online

  I ran my fingers up his tightly-muscled, tense arms and up to his face. I swallowed slightly, then added, “I want you so much I can’t stand it.”

  Without warning, Desmond wrapped his arms around my waist and threw me down onto the bed. I loved the weight of him on top of me and how I could feel every inch of his body resting against mine.

  Desmond fingered the strap of my little, lacy bra before reaching his fingers around to my back to undo the fastening. He watched my chest rise and fall beneath him like a hawk, intent on its prey.

  But then he ran soft kisses from the hollow of my neck all the way down to my navel, while his right hand reached beneath the cups of my bra to fondle my breasts He kept his fingers gentle and teasing the entire time, belying the tension in his muscles and the dangerous glint in his eyes.

  “Desmond…” I moaned, in the hopes that the sound would break through his veneer of control and cause him to snap. I could tell that he was enjoying himself, after all my weeks of teasing him, but I’d grown so wet with desire that his slow deliberateness was almost painful.

  He looked up at me from his position at my navel; his breathing was coming fast and hard.

  “I just need to make sure you truly want this, Callie,” he murmured, because once I’ve started—”

  He brought his hand down from my breasts to pull away at my panties, before getting rid of my undone bra altogether.

  “—I’m not liable to stop.”

  I stared at him intently. “Don’t stop. I don’t want you to. You know what I want you to do.”

  Desmond’s mouth was on mine, then, and his fingers found my clit, and all I could feel was pleasure.

  “Desmond, please, please, I need you in me,” I begged against his hot, ravenous mouth.

  My hands roved down to his pants—how could it be that I removed his belt and still hadn’t taken off his pants? In my desperation I struggled to pull them away, but Desmond stepped in and all but ripped them, as well as his underwear, clean away for me.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as my eyes wandered down to his throbbing cock. Desmond may have seen me mostly naked in photos I’d sent him, but I’d never seen him anywhere close to undressed.

  I gulped despite myself; it was an action Desmond seemed to revel in. But then he grazed his teeth over my lips as his fingers returned to teasing my clit, and waves of pleasure begin to hit my brain again.

  “I’ll be gentle, I swear,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Just trust me.”

  And how could I not trust Desmond him?

  “You can be as rough as you want,” I breathed, pulling his mouth back to mine and kissing him ferociously while my hands ran through his dark, soaking wet hair.

  I bit his lip in shock as he entered me. Yes, it definitely hurt a bit. But beneath that, there was—

  “Callie?” Desmond mumbled against my lips, concern coloring his voice even through his achingly obvious desire.

  I buried my head against his shoulder and nibbled on his neck, the way he had done in the office a few days ago.

  “Do your worst,” I said, the words tickling his skin. “Make me yours.”

  Desmond clearly took my words to heart, for no sooner had I uttered them than he dragged my head back onto the pillow by my hair and began thrusting into me in earnest. With every stroke of his cock inside me a fresh wave of pleasure wracked my brain, until I was almost blind with it.

  “Oh my god,” I gasped, when Desmond crawled his fingers down along my hip bone to my clit and began stroking it once more. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna—”

  “Then do it,” he growled against my lips, biting my lower one as he removed the entire length of his cock from me only to slam it back in. The force of it was enough to send me rocketing over the edge; my fingers curled into the sheets beneath me, and my sight grew blurry with tears. All over my body my muscles were pulsing in time with the endorphins rushing to my brain, so I clenched my legs around Desmond’s waist as I gasped in shock and pleasure.

  I felt incredible. I’d never had an orgasm like this in my life.

  Desmond didn’t give me a chance to recover. With a wolfish grin he extricated himself from me and mercilessly flipped me into my hands and knees.

  “I hope you’re ready for this, Callie,” he murmured into my ear, his breathing just as excited and eager as mine.

  And whether I was or not, Desmond went ahead and thrust into me with such power that my face slammed into the pillow. My clit was so sensitive from my orgasm; whenever his cock rubbed against it my body twitched and shuddered. If he kept going like this I was going to come again.

  Desmond’s hands crawled over my boobs and stomach and hips as he slid in and out of me as easily as if I were made to fit his dick. It made me happy to think that I was. He bit into my shoulder—just enough to make me gasp—when his strokes came thicker and faster.

  “Gonna—” was all Desmond got out, before he shot every last drop of cum inside him into me; I could feel his cock throbbing as it expelled the fluid. It was only once it grew still that he slowly pulled out of me and rolled onto his back. I collapsed against him, exhausted.

  “That—that finally happened,” I said after a while, though both of us were still breathless. I turned my head to look at Desmond. “Was it worth putting up with a brat like me in work to fuck a brat like me in bed?”

  “I may be coming round to the idea,” he grinned, before leaning over to kiss me and starting everything over again.

  *

  I woke to the heavy feeling of someone lying on top of me. A tall, well-muscled someone.

  Desmond.

  “And just what do you think you’re doing?” I asked, yawning happily as I struggled to reposition myself beneath his weight.

  Desmond nibbled my neck, stubble pleasantly scratchy against my skin. “I’m horny,” was all he said.

  Against my thigh I felt a very telling hardness prodding me. “Clearly.”

  “Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?”

  I clucked my tongue. “You’re acting like I’m a virgin after her first time getting fucked, Desmond, which is something I’m decidedly not.”

  He laughed, rolling onto his back as he pulled me on top of him. “I’m going to have to thank all the men you’ve been with, if they’re the reason you can use your tongue the way you did last night.”

  “Okay, now you’re making me sound like a slut,” I complained. “I haven’t slept with that many men.”

  Desmond trailed a hand down my spine until I shivered. “I don’t care if you slept with one guy or a thousand, Callie. You’re in control of your own body. It’s up to you what to do with it.”

  “I have a pretty good idea of what I want to do with it right now,” I said, bending down until my lips were but a hair’s breadth away from Desmond’s, “and I think your dick agrees with me.”

  “Well if both our bodies are in agreement…” he grinned, hand squeezing my ass to lift me over his long, hard erection. It slid inside me so easily I sighed.

  Okay, I could get used to this. Having Desmond fucking me being a real and tangible thing instead of a fantasy—a goal in my head—was better than anything I could have imagined.

  The rest of my summer was going to be great.

  Chapter Eight

  Desmond

  “Des—ah! Not, not there—”

  “Are you sure, Callie?” I murmured, arching an eyebrow. I touched her clit the exact way I’d only just touched it, and Callie writhed against me.

  “People will hear us!” she complained in hushed tones, though there was a glint to her eye which told me fine well she thrived on the danger of it all.

  We were currently in the back of an old Mustang, which nobody was working on. Everyone was out front, washing cars or doing on-the-spot repairs or in the office. Callie and I probably had another fifteen minutes before somebody came back here.

  Probably. Maybe.

  The ‘maybe’ was what drove Callie wild, and me with her.

  We’d been like this for two weeks solid, finding any and every opportunity to sneak off into shadowy corners of the shop to kiss, or fondle each other beneath our clothes or, when we simply couldn’t take the temptation anymore, fuck each other senseless.

  Then we’d smooth down our clothes, catch our breath and get back to work. Nobody was any the wiser.

  “Then let’s see how you’d like to be heard,” Callie said dangerously, before unzipping my pants and swiftly enveloping the head of my cock in her mouth. I gasped, though it quickly became a moan as Callie began to bob up and down, quickly taking more and more of my erection inside her mouth.

  Now it was me who was writing beneath her, not the other way around. I knew she thrived on seeing me like this, completely undone by her touch, just like I lived for the opposite. We were a perfectly matched pair.

  It wasn’t long until I could feel that achingly familiar tug at my groin, telling me I wasn’t far off from coming inside Callie’s mouth. And though I would have loved to, there was another place I liked to finish.

  Deep inside her pussy, so I could watch her cry out as I slammed into her.

  With a hand through her hair I pulled Callie away from my cock; she pouted at me, lips wet and swollen. I kissed her, then promptly sat her in my lap and slid inside her as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

  To actually be inside Callie—to have her moaning and wanton and sitting on me with my dick inside her—was bliss. There was no other word for it. The way she hid in the crook of my neck at first, as if she didn’t want me to see the shock on her face as I finally gave in and began thrusting inside her, only made me feel better.

  But I wanted to see Callie’s face. I wanted to see every reaction she had to my cock and hands and mouth unraveling her, bit by bit. I wanted to watch her bite her lips to hold back a cry as she came and, when I followed closely behind, see her looking spent and exhausted. She’d toyed with me for so long, before, and now it was my turn to do the same to her each and every day. Or multiple times a day.

  And so our time passed over summer, and before we knew it those two weeks of fucking had turned to four, and Callie had just one month left before she had to return to college.

  There was no use escaping the fact that I didn’t want her to go back, though I knew it was selfish. To be honest, I could probably handle Callie going back to college to finish her degree. She only had two years left of it, after all, and she’d be back to help her dad over the summers.

  But after that? Could I cope with my growing feelings for her, knowing she’d be off working a high-flying job potentially on the other side of the globe?

  I didn’t think so. But I respected Callie too much to interfere with what she wanted to do in life. Because it was her life, after all, and it wasn’t my place to pass judgement on how she chose to spend it.

  I could, however, make sure she knew just how truly valued she was in the auto shop—how indispensable she was. Perhaps, if Callie became aware of her importance to the business, she’d wanted to stay of her own accord.

  And maybe she’d want to stay for me, I thought hopefully.

  But the truth of the matter was that Callie and I hadn’t talked about our feelings for each other. We hadn’t even gone on a date, for fuck’s sake. All we did was joke and flirt and check each other out and screw the other’s brains out when the opportunity presented itself.

  It was in this way that I knew—with utter certainty—that Callie’s attraction to me was genuine. The hungry way she watched me work, the way she traced the line of the muscles in my arm with her eyes, the way she just barely grazed past me in the shop. All these things told me she went wild for me.

  I felt the same way, and my ache for her only grew with every passing moment. I’d thought Callie had been driving me insane before; it was nothing compared to what she did to me now.

  “Good job on the financial report for July,” I told her one afternoon, when she was sucking on the end of pen and swinging one leg from her dad’s office chair. She looked like a sexy secretary; since we were already fucking I figured I had a pass at objectifying her in such a way. In fact, I was tempted to tell Callie what I thought she looked like to her face. She’d probably like it.

  But I had more important goals in mind.

  She smiled graciously. “It’s not nearly as good as the ones dad’ll be able to do when the app is finished. Even a moron could do it with that.”

  “Are you calling you’re dad a moron?”

  “Hilarious.”

  “Are you making the app yourself?” I asked, having realized I’d never once asked before.

  Callie shook her head. “I’ve been involved since its alpha test, but I’m not programming it. That’s beyond my area of expertise,” she said. “It’s a college project with some of the seniors.”

  “What are you doing working with the seniors? Didn’t you only just complete your second year?”

  Callie shrugged in a non-committal fashion. “I went on a date with one of the guys developing it. Didn’t work out between us—obviously—but we ended up great friends. That’s how I became involved.”

  The idea of Callie going on dates with clever men at college in New York had never really crossed my mind before, but now it was. It made me uncomfortable to think of how small my life was compared to her own.

  Callie stared at me as if she could tell what I was thinking. She probably could; I’d never been very good at hiding what I thought from my face.

  “Are you jealous of a single date I went on eight months ago, Desmond?”

  I looked away, chuckling self-consciously. “Maybe a little. It’s stupid.”

  “Yeah, for sure. Kinda flattering, though. You can be more jealous, if you like.”

  “Oh?”

  Callie uncrossed her legs and spread them slightly, allowing me a full view up her skirt to the black thong she had on below. “You can be as jealous as you like…just so long as you use that passion in a healthy manner, Mister Rivers.”

  The door was closed and the blinds went down before the end of Callie’s sentence.

  “Well then I guess I’m super jealous,” I growled, closing the distance between us in three strides.

  God, I didn’t want the summer to end.

  Chapter Nine

  Callie

  It never bothered me before that Jason and David—and some of the older employees, too—liked to eye me up when they thought I couldn’t see them. They could think whatever they liked about me. That I was a tease. That I was a stone-cold bitch. That I was daddy’s spoiled little girl, who knew nothing.

  I knew none of that was true, and so did Desmond, and that was all that mattered.

  But the stares and comments were beginning to get out of control and even I had to admit they were getting to me.

  When I take over the business I can just fire them all, I joked, then froze. When I took over the business? I’d never planned to do that before. It was the last thing I wanted to do with my life.

  Well, it had been the last thing I’d wanted to do with my life. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  It wasn’t just because of Desmond though, okay, he played a part in it. But I genuinely enjoyed working with my dad, and the business was in good shape. It made a decent profit—and could make more with me actively working on the business side of things. And not everyone was as lucky as I was, I knew. I was studying business and was literally being gifted a business to work with.

  If I decided to take over upon graduation then my dad could take things a little easier. He could even spend more time actually working as a mechanic, if that was what he wanted.

  “Or mom could get him to finally do up the back yard,” I joked, giggling to myself as I finished the spreadsheet I was working on.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I looked up; Despond was leaning against the open door frame with an amused smile upon his lips. His overalls weren’t on; he was wearing a pair of dirty jeans and a white t-shirt with a hole in the hem. Damn, he looked good. I imagined running my fingers up beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling his abs ripple beneath my fingertips and—

  “Callie?”

  “There’s nothing funny about what I’m thinking of,” I replied, smirking when Desmond glanced down at himself then returned to watching my face when understanding finally dawned upon him.

  He chuckled. “You’re insatiable.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Touché.”

  “Are you heading out for lunch?”

  Desmond shook his head. “I just got back. Haven’t you had yours yet?”

  I had to admit that I was surprised it was so late already. “I lost track of time,” I said sheepishly, as my stomach rumbled insistently. How long had I been ignoring it? I pointed at the computer monitor. “The business doesn’t run itself, you know.”

  “I honestly don’t know what we’ll do without you around, Callie.”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew what Desmond was getting at; he’d been slowly pushing the idea of the shop being useless without me all month. He meant no harm by it, of course—no pressure. It was simply how he felt. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel good to know how well he regarded me.

  I smiled softly. “I might just head home early, then, and grab something small to eat before helping my mom with dinner. She’ll be over the moon if I do that.”

  “Ever the conscientious daughter,” Desmond replied, with no trace of sarcasm. He shuffled his feet, looking away from a moment before continuing, “I have something to ask you, actually.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Consider my interest piqued. What is it?”

  He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair—a gesture I was now achingly familiar with. He was nervous.

  “I was wondering,” he began, his voice a little uncertain, “if you might want to go out to dinner with me or something.”

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