Modern Wicked Fairy Tales: Complete Collection (30 page)

“Come here.” Jake pulled her quickly into
his lap again and she straddled him, his hands exploring her body,
up and down her sides, over her hips, pressing her against his
crotch. They danced that way, rocking together, Jake’s mouth
covering the tops of her breasts with wet kisses, the heat of his
cock through denim rubbing against her panties, creating a horrible
friction, making her want him with an urgent, keening ache. What
had started out as a temporary distraction was quickly turning into
a force of nature she couldn’t control and couldn’t stop—and she
didn’t want to.

“We have to be quiet,” Jake murmured,
cupping her face in his hands and kissing her again. “Can you do
that?”

She gasped when his fingers nudged her
panties aside, tracing the puffy swell of her lips. They were as
smooth as her scalp—she didn’t have to shave at all anymore. As
much as she hated the treatments that made the hair on her head
fall out, it was a benefit when it came to other parts of her
body.

“I’ll try to be quiet,” she whispered,
whimpering as Jake slipped a finger inside and found her
wet—embarrassingly wet.

“Oh god.” His finger moved in and out,
eliciting little noises from her throat. “When you say that, I want
to make you scream.”

“I’ll be quiet,” she promised, shivering and
biting her lip as his thumb found the sensitive nub of her clit. He
rubbed there as he fingered her, her nipples hardening under her
bra. “Just please don’t stop.”

He gave a low growl, pulling the material of
her bra down with his other hand, letting her breasts spill free
against his face. She arched so he could reach them with his mouth
and he teased them back and forth, round and round, matching the
motion of his tongue with the fingers between her legs.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, reaching back
to feel him. His cock strained against his zipper. She undid it,
sliding her hand in and finding the tent of his boxers underneath.
Jake helped her, slipping his cock free and groaning softly, her
nipple between his lips, when she took him in her hand.

“Quiet,” she reminded him, smiling at his
soft moan into her breasts as she stroked him against her behind,
his precum wetting the silk of her panties.

“I’ll try,” he breathed, his fingers pumping
in and out of her wetness, matching the tug of her hand between his
legs. “But oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so
good…”

“I know.” She swallowed, rolling her hips,
wanting more. It had been so long, too long, and he was right, it
felt far too good to stop. “Wait.”

She shifted her hips, rubbing the tip of his
dick against her clit, circling it there, and then sliding it down
her slit, nudging the fingers away with what she really wanted—his
cock—pulling her panties further aside for him. Jake grabbed her
hips as she positioned herself, easing down slowly, taking his
length. They both sighed when she bottomed out, rocking her pelvis
up against his.

“I was wrong,” he gasped, looking up at her.
“This feels even better.”

“Mmmm hmm,” she agreed.

“And look at that,” he teased, shifting his
weight, making her gasp at the pressure of him inside. “You’re on
top, just how you like it.”

“So I am.” Rachel laughed softly, her
fingers gripping his shoulders for balance. His hands were moving
again, up over her sides, her breasts, cupping her face so he could
bring her to him and kiss her. She sucked at his tongue, feeling
his cock throb in response, but when his hands moved through her
hair again, she distracted him by putting them somewhere else, this
time her ass.

He grabbed her behind and thrust, making her
moan. She remembered her promise to be quiet and bit her lip.

“So where did our little game leave off?” he
inquired, moving his hips to meet her.

“Game?” she gasped. She couldn’t think. She
could barely speak.

“Hard or soft?” he asked, demonstrating,
first with a few hard strokes, followed by a slower, easier
pace.

“Oh god.” She dug her fingers into his
shoulders. “Hard. Please.”

“Deep or short?” Another demonstration—long,
deep strokes, followed by short, fast ones.

“Ohhh! Deep! Deep and hard!” Rachel begged,
her thighs trembling as they clenched his.

Jake gave her just what she wanted, keeping
his hands on her ass and fucking up to meet her. Rachel couldn’t
take much more. Her clit was throbbing, her whole body aching for
release.

“Up or down?” Jake whispered.

“Yes!” Rachel cried.

He smiled, eyes half-closed. “In or
out?”

“Yes!” Rachel panted, grinding her pussy
down on him. “Oh god yes, more, all of it, everything, please!”

“Oh god.” Jake’s grip tightened and she felt
his thighs flex under hers. “Rachel, baby. Oh…wait…”

“I can’t,” she breathed against his ear.
“I’m going to come all over your cock.”

“Yes!” He forgot all about being quiet,
shoving deep and hard and fast into her pussy, driving her up
toward the ceiling of the limo with his hips, groaning loudly with
every thrust. She knew he was coming, could feel the heated throb
of his cock deep inside, and she was just seconds away from coming
too.

“Oh please,” she begged, reaching down and
rubbing her clit in fast, hard circles, sending herself flying over
the edge into a blissful freefall, trembling and writhing in his
arms as her orgasm rolled through her. Her pussy seized his cock
with such force he howled and buried his face against her breasts
in an effort to muffle the sound. She milked him with her climax
until he shuddered and begged her to stop, stop, please, god, I
can’t take it anymore…

Rachel came to earth slowly. The sound of
their breath came to her first, still harsh and panting. Then the
movement of the limo—they were on the road again, going fast,
probably on the highway. Then the realization that they were
naked—well, she was, mostly. He had just undone his jeans.

Rachel reached for her jersey, pulling it
back on over her head and then adjusting her bra underneath. Jake
zipped and straightened, and soon they were both dressed again,
tucking and smoothing things over.

“So much for being quiet,” Jake teased as
she picked up her purse—it had fallen to the floor in the middle of
things.

Rachel felt her cheeks grow hot and she
glanced toward the tinted glass. “You think he heard us?”

He chuckled. “I think they probably heard us
down in Texas.”

The car slowed to a stop and she leaned
over, looking out to see her apartment building towering above
them.

“Looks like we’re here.” Rachel met his gaze
for a moment but she was too overwhelmed to do it for long. “I had
a great time, Jake. Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment and the
silence stretched. She knew he was waiting for her to ask him
up—and she should have, considering. But she couldn’t do it. Her
apartment was her sanctuary, the place where she could let her hair
down—quite literally—and she didn’t know if she could trust anyone
there, even him.

When the limo driver knocked on the car door
instead of just swinging the door wide, Rachel knew he must have
heard them.

“Open up,” Jake called and she flushed at
his words. The driver opened the door and waited. Jake grabbed her
hand as she started to slide across the seat, stopping her. He slid
close enough to kiss her softly and she melted at the touch of his
lips, the draw of his tongue, but when his hand moved in her hair,
she shrank away.

“Goodnight, Jake,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, Rapunzel,” he whispered. She
gave him a little smile, hearing him say, “I’ll call you!”

She slipped past the driver and pushed the
door open to her building and escaped, afraid to look back to see
if Jake was following her with his eyes.

* * * *

“Rach, he’s on the phone again,” Josh
hissed, holding his hand over the receiver.

It was a Tuesday—almost two weeks since
she’d gone on a non-date with Jake and had non-sex with him in the
limo—and Carly should have been answering the phone but Rachel had
finally had to fire her after she’d double booked two more
appointments and then failed to show up to work without calling
last week.

Rachel sighed and shook her head. “Tell him
I’m not here.”

“Like you’re ever not here.” He snorted,
uncovering the receiver and putting on his phone voice. “I’m sorry,
Mr. Malden, she’s unavailable.”

Rachel cringed and continued sweeping the
floor. Joshie had just finished a cut, but it was a touch-up for
one of the other stylists who had gone home early. It was now the
two of them now and the place was pretty much dead, which wasn’t
surprising for near closing on a Tuesday night. Well,
Rapunzel’s
might have been empty, but she had to find
something to do to keep herself busy.

“I will…” Joshie nodded against the phone,
rolling his eyes. It reminded Rachel of Emma and she wondered how
the girl was doing, how her friend had fared with her cancer
treatments. She could have asked Jake of course, if she’d taken any
of the three hundred phone calls she’d received from him since that
night in the limo, but she was too ashamed to answer. Thank god for
voice mail and Joshie.

“You really need to talk to that man.”
Joshie put down the phone and gave her a long, steady look. Rachel
shrugged, using the dust pan to sweep up wisps of hair. “So you had
sex on the first date—lots of people do, you know. It doesn’t have
to be the end of everything. It can be a great beginning!”

“It’s not that.” Rachel hid her blush as she
dumped the hair in the bin and hung the broom and dust pan. Okay,
so it was that. She was embarrassed by how she’d acted, how much
she’d let happen that night, but it wasn’t
just
that. Life
was too complicated right now. She couldn’t afford a relationship,
and she certainly couldn’t do crazy things like having sex with
practical strangers.

“Pul-eeeeeeeze!” Joshie rolled his eyes so
far back in his head he looked like he was going to pass out. “You
are so transparent. I’m gonna nickname you ‘Casper,’ girl!”

She turned to face him, crossing her arms
over her chest. “I am not.”

“You like him.” Joshie smiled, a slow,
knowing sort of smile that made Rachel want to strangle him. “You
like him so much it scares you.”

“I do not.” She turned and stalked to her
station, straightening, putting scissors away, the blow dryer back
in its place.

Joshie came over to stand beside her. He was
short and stocky and his chin was the perfect height to rest on her
shoulder as he looked into the mirror.

“Look at that.” He pointed to her
reflection, meeting her eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman. He was
attracted to you. Believe it.”

“Without this?” She tugged on her wig,
feeling the adhesive underneath starting to give. It was a strong
sort of glue, but as the day wore on, it became less and less
effective.

He put his arms around her waist and gave
her a strong squeeze. “He’s not going to like you any less because
you’re sick.”

“How do you know?” She let herself relax a
little against him.

“Because he’s a good guy,” he insisted. “And
if he leaves when he finds out, well then hell, we both know he
wasn’t worth it.”

Rachel sighed and moved out of Joshie’s
arms, sitting down in the salon chair and giving herself a long,
hard look. The wig was a good one—she’d paid a mint for it—and
didn’t look too obvious. But she knew what was underneath it—the
few golden-auburn wisps that were left. And what was underneath
that—her insecurity, her self-pity, her fear of rejection, her
self-doubt and how it had all made her question her own basic
femininity.

Josh peeled up the edge of the wig, peering
at her hairline. “How’s it going under there\ anyway?”

“Awful.” She made a face. “It’s almost all
gone.”

“It’s a barbaric treatment…almost worse than
the damned disease.” Joshie petted her wig. It was real human hair,
a big luxury in wigs, especially one so long. Someone like Emma had
donated her hair for a wig like this, Rachel thought, leaning her
head back against Joshie as he smoothed the hair over her
shoulders. “Sometimes I think they might as well just use
leeches.”

“Don’t say that.” She reached back and
squeezed his hand. “I’m hoping it works.”

“I hope so too.” His smile was bright—too
bright, and she knew it was for her benefit, a sort of fake
optimism. But she didn’t blame him. It was hard to be truly hopeful
in the face of mortality, your own or anyone else’s. “How many more
treatments?”

“I’m done for this round.” Rachel sounded
relieved, and she was. “Now it’s just wait and see.”

“Want me to give you a scalp treatment?”
Joshie brightened, for real this time. “Come on, no one’s here and
our appointments are done for the night. It will do you some good.
And you’ve got to be suffering under that thing.”

“I hate it.” Yet her wig was gorgeous, the
envy of everyone who came into the salon. They all thought it was
her real hair. Her deception was a good one.

“Then let’s get it off you.”

It took a lot for her to let him, but in the
end, she trusted him enough to say yes. Joshie applied adhesive
remover under the edges of her wig and sat her down like a client
in a chair with a magazine and brought her a cappuccino to wait for
it to start to work while he mixed some sort of concoction in a
tray.

“What is that?” she asked, sipping her
coffee, glad she splurged for the good stuff for her clients.

“Lots of stuff that’s good for your skin.”
Joshie looked like a mad scientist with bottles lined up on the
counter. “My last boyfriend shaved his head and I used to do this
for him once a week. Made his head soft as a baby’s bottom.”

“You must have enjoyed that.”