Money Shot (63 page)

Pain mixed with glorious ecstasy.

He grunted. Guttural sounds that spoke no words.

His cock throbbed and pulsed inside me. It was a gusher. A giving gusher inside me. Inside the condom. Inside me. It pumped and pumped. I worried about it spilling out the ends and getting all over me.

Was it worry?

He pumped into me a final time and then the fingers digging into my skin relaxed.

“So good,” he panted. “So good. Oh my God.” His voice was low and hoarse.

I slid myself off of his still firm cock, knelt down, and took him in my hands. I pulled off the condom. Hot semen dripped down my fingers as I tossed it aside. I stroked him. I tongued the head and then up and down the shaft. I tongued his balls, sucked one into my mouth, tongued it.

He moaned.

I ran my tongue up his length and circled the head.

I looked up.

“Do you have some more cum for me,” I asked. “A little more hot cum for your stepsister?”

That word sounded horribly dirty. So why did it make my dripping pussy wetter?

“I’m empty. Completely drained.”

I smiled and kissed his cock.

“Later then,” I said.

Later?

Who was this slut using my name?

She’s the slut that made this happen.

I was thankful she made an appearance.

Could there really be a later? This was so fucking wrong. And so fucking hot. I needed a later even if I knew I shouldn’t.

I stood up, dragging my nipples across his balls and shaft. Across his ridged stomach. I circled my arms behind him and rested my head on his chest.

“Thank you, Jake,” I said. “Thank you for the best birthday ever.”

I couldn’t believe it. I felt both empty and full at once. Empty from not having his cock inside me. But full from the lingering sting and tingles.

I felt guilty and glorious. I burned with pain and pleasure. The world didn’t seem big enough to fit it all in. I didn’t seem big enough to fit him all in.

Then his phone buzzed in his coat pocket.

“Shit,” he said.

He retrieved his phone and glanced at the screen.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said.

He answered the call.

“Stop calling me. What don’t you understand,” he said.

Who was calling him all the time?

Oh no. Was it her? The last bimbo I’d seen on his arm at dinner a few weeks ago? What was her name?

Anne. Annabel. Anneeka. Annika.

That was it.

That German supermodel.

A weight slammed into my chest.

It was like the heavy, suffocating curtain of reality crashed back down.

“What,” Jake shouted into the phone. “God dammit!”

She must have hung up because he paused and then looked at the phone.

He jolted awake. He looked at me, up and down, at the pile of my dress on the floor. At my torn panties. At my cum oozing down my thighs.

He covered his eyes.

“What have we fucking done,” he said.

I thought it was pretty obvious.

“What have we fucking done here,” he said.

Part of me felt the same way. Felt the tsunami of guilt and shame that threatened to sweep us away. But a part of me felt like time on the ocean sounded great.

He threw my dress at me.

“Get your clothes on,” he said. “We have to leave immediately.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “It was the best birthday present ever.”

I didn’t feel as calm as I pretended, but he was unhinged and it scared me.

He shook his head. Looked at me like I was an alien or something.

“Julia, are you serious?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I said.

Now he was starting to piss me off.

Was I that horrible?

So disgusting as to be tossed aside the instant he shot a hot load inside me?

“This was so fucking wrong,” he said, “We have to forget it ever happened.”

I slipped back into my soiled dress. Picked up my shredded panties and slipped them into my purse. I was going to keep those forever. They were precious to me now.

Jake threw his clothes on and dragged me toward the elevator.

Every lusty fantasy I’d had since setting eyes on him had just been fulfilled. In real life. A shiver of pleasure washed through me.

It couldn’t end like this.

I needed more. Needed him to know I felt what he was feeling too. But that we had to get through it. For each other.

Besides, not
every
lusty fantasy had been fulfilled. There were still quite a few begging for his attention.

Chapter Eight

We got down from the top of the Eiffel Tower with surprising ease. Jake stuffed a huge wad of big, colorful Euro bills into the old guard’s coat pocket and apologized.

He was so smooth.

The guard escorted us down the lower elevator and waved goodbye as we marched to the limousine. Jake opened the door for me and didn’t say a word.

I piled in and slumped against the far door.

He sat as far from me as he could and instructed Antonio to take us back to the hotel.

Our beautiful moment atop the Eiffel Tower had somehow shattered on the ground below.

I felt so awkward. So alone.

“So you’re just going to fuck me,” I said, “and dump me? Take my virginity and then throw me to the curb?”

He stared out his window, refusing to answer.

“Real fucking nice, big brother,” I said.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he said. His eyes still locked on the window.

I still felt him inside me. The warm ache of his absence. A cool wetness on my inner thighs. A cold reflection of his attitude right now. Confusion swirled inside me. My stomach hurt. The faint taste of his cum lingered on my tongue. Off in the distance, lost in the parade of city lights, cars honked as they made their way through the hive of ancient streets.

Well after midnight, and Paris still hummed. A beautiful inviting feeling that hurt all the worse because it was so the total opposite to the void between Jake and me.

Three feet of physical space that felt like a million miles.

I turned to him, hands on my hips. The universal business pose that women used when they demanded attention.

Jake held his palm up to my face. The universal sign for stop right there. Do not pass. Do not talk. No. No.

“Never again,” he said.

His eyes looked forward. A cold wall of air between us threatened to shatter me into a million pieces.

I reached for his shoulder. To calm him. To calm me.

He shook me off with an angry huff. He didn’t make eye contact. The line of his jaw flexed and coiled.

Why was he so mad at me?

I didn’t want him to hate me. I couldn’t stand that. Sadness gripped my chest like a tightening vise. His fresh rain and woods smell filled my world and made the lonely ache worse.

Was that my first and last time with him?

Ever?

A knot lodged in my throat. It choked me almost as much as his cock had just moments earlier. A sob broke out of my chest.

I tried not to. I knew Jake didn’t want to see me cry. But I couldn’t help it.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and clung to my jaw. I was crushed. Demolished to dust and nothing. I needed him.

“Never again, Julia,” he said.

He finally turned to me, and noticed my tears. His face instantly softened and he wiped away the salty streams.

“Please stop crying. You need to pull it together.”

“Jake,” I said, “please don’t say never. Not after how perfect it was.”

“Julia,” he said and then stopped.

He looked down at his hands, clasped and flexing.

“It was wrong, Julia,” he said. “It can never happen again.”

“It’s not our fault. We didn’t ask to feel this way. We do though. And it’s beautiful,” I said.

He shook his head.

“Did I not make your cock feel good, Jake,” I asked.

He recoiled.

Shit.

Wrong time to try to talk dirty.

I had no experience with when the right time was.

He looked at me with cold steel in his sky blue eyes.

“That has nothing to do with it,” he said. “Any dumb whore can make my cock feel good.”

So I was a dumb whore now?

How fucking dare he.

“I guess that’s the problem, huh,” I said. “You’re looking for just another dumb whore. Sorry to disappoint you, Jacob.”

He winced.

“It’s done,” he said. “We can’t change that. But we can never speak of it again.”

The limo arrived and we sat for a moment in silence. Terrible, lonely silence.

The Hotel Plaza Athenee was a decadent affair. It had a luxurious Parisian feel. Red canopies covered arched white marble window sills. Huge crystal chandeliers with gold fittings and dark wood furniture peeked through the latticed glass.

A valet in a crisp white uniform opened the limo door for us and welcomed us back for the evening. Another attendant opened the hotel door.

This place was over the top.