Silk Stalkings (4 page)

Yancey worked at the fly of his jeans while he dug into his
wallet for the condom.

“How many condoms will that thing hold?” she asked, yanking
his jeans a few inches down his hips, exposing his glorious cock.

He scoffed. “One at a time, sweetheart.”

So she guessed that men replenished their wallet condoms as
women replenished their purse supply of panty liners.

His mouth butted up against hers again, nipping at her lower
lip. Diego picked her up. She looped her arms around his neck and wrapped her
legs around his waist, clamping tight. The firmness of his erection pressed
against her clit, sending a pulse of pleasure zipping around her pussy like a
bullet ricocheting in a steel vault. He propped her back against the door and
shifted her. Diego grimaced as he struggled with the condom. Holding her
against the solid door with his body, he thrust with his cock, hitting the mark
on the first try.

Yancey gasped. Diego choked back any sound by lightly biting
her shoulder through her silk blouse. His cock slid slowly in and out of her
passage. Each thrust was precious. Mostly because he might drop her—or worse,
they might be discovered by one of her coworkers. Her heart raced at the mere
thought. She’d have a naughty reputation to go along with her sexy apparel.

He ground his body against her clit. She bit her lip to keep
quiet but a moan escaped. Needing some control of the situation, she slowly
unwrapped one leg from his hip, planting her foot firmly on the floor. Her
muscles ached from the previous night. Chances were good that the same muscles
and a few new ones would ache tomorrow. Diego scooped her other leg up and
away, planting his hand flat against the door, her leg draped over his arm,
spreading her open. All the while he continued to drive into her pussy.

“Ah,” she squeaked in a high-pitched exclamation. She knew
silence was in order but couldn’t stifle the little noises that escaped her
lips.

Diego covered her mouth with his, so she squealed into the
security of his mouth. The pressure built in her abdomen as he drove deeper.
Warmth spread and pooled. She had nothing but fiery fervor for this guy and no
idea why. He was hot for sure. A little mysterious. Possibly dangerous. Diego
Ramos held the key to so many naughty possibilities.

“Yancey,
cariña
,” he cooed into her ear. “I need you
to come. Can you do that for me?”

You just try to stop me.
He made her stomach dip
big-time just by calling her
cariña
.

She nodded, her breath blowing out in heavy puffs. The sound
of her heart pounded in her ears. She dug her fingers into his shoulder muscles
in an attempt to hold on to any thread of control. A storm of pleasure and
emotion mixed inside her belly. She knew as sure as she knew her own name that
he’d leave a trail of doubt and confusion for her to clean up.

“I’m coming.” She whispered her warning to him just in case
she collapsed or splashed.

“Quietly.” He whispered his reply in her ear. His lips
tugged on her lobe.

Yancey whimpered and moaned through the rumbling of her
climax, her body losing all motor function. Diego Ramos was a magician, waving
his magic wand—abracadabra, an orgasm thrums through her on his command. She
was sure he was the only thing keeping her upright and she didn’t care. He
eased up on the speed and force of his thrusts as the walls of her pussy pulsed
around his cock. But he didn’t stop pumping her entirely, riding out her spasms
until her ripples subsided.

Wetness trickled down her thigh.

Diego pulled out completely and spun her around to face the
door. Still reeling from her orgasm, she steadied herself, palms against the
wooden surface as if she might do some vertical pushups against the door. He
gently kicked her feet apart and pulled her hips toward him as if he might
frisk her for a weapon. He pushed her skirt away and caressed her ass. His cock
found the empty space he’d seconds ago abandoned.

She slid against the length of him, enjoying the new angle
of his shaft teasing her passage again and again. With his hands, he spread her
ass cheeks, bringing the glowing warmth of embarrassment to the cheeks on her
face. His fingers kneaded the flesh of her hips and ass.

“You should have called me,” he said, punishing her
magnificently with his cock.

“Yes.” Yancey hissed her reply. “I was bad.”

“Very bad,” he teased her, chuckling and playing along.

“You should spank me.” She choked out the words.

His rhythm hiccupped and he missed a beat. “What?”

“Spank me!”

“Okay.” Diego stopped kneading her ass and applied the
perfect amount of force with the palm of his hand.

The slap knocked a second wave of pleasure loose from
somewhere deep inside her belly. The walls of her pussy constricted around his
length, squeezing and releasing. A gargled plea for more caught in her throat
as the burst of ecstasy showered her insides with wet warmth. Before the
torrent of pleasure ended, Diego smacked her other ass cheek with equal force,
prolonging the explosion inside her. The slap rang so loudly in her ears that
she feared the entire second floor had heard the smack.

His cock slammed into her pussy only about half a dozen more
times before he stilled inside her and groaned. Grasping her hips, he ground
Yancey’s ass against him. He curled into her body and rested his forehead on
her shoulder. His breath blew out hard and fast, penetrating the fabric of her
blouse.

“
Caray
,” he muttered. “That’s progress,” he said in a
raspy whisper—whether to himself or to her she wasn’t sure. “I promise I’ll be
back up to speed in no time at all.”

Liking his speed just fine, she had no idea what he was
talking about. Could it get better than that? Diego pulled her back against his
chest and held her tight against the solid muscles of his chest. His hips
intermittently pushed against her.

He kissed her neck. “Have lunch with me.”

She reached behind her to comb her fingers through his short
dark hair. Her impulse was to resist and say no. But he was officially not a
one-night stand any longer. Yancey liked him. The way he looked. The way he
smelled. Diego hadn’t made her feel self-conscious or inexperienced…yet. He
also hadn’t made her feel like a cheap whore, which she’d thought was an
inevitable by-product of her wild sex spree.

And she was hungry. Plus her lunch had vanished from the
break room refrigerator again. Someone needed to install a camera and catch the
culprit, although it seemed she’d been the only victim to complain. Going to
lunch with Diego made perfect sense. And Stanley wouldn’t feel obligated to
share his lunch again.

“Sure,” she replied. Yancey felt his smile at the base of
her neck. And he’d be a huge asset with checking off her list, she thought.

The phone on the desk rang. She ignored it, letting Diego
pepper her neck and cheek with hot kisses. She tilted her head so he could give
her other cheek equal attention. The ringing ceased, probably going to voice
mail.

The intercom beeped. “Mr. Pickens is waiting for the lobby
elevator,” Stanley said, frantically. “Do you copy? Next stop—his office.”

“Oh crap,” Yancey said.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Diego nipped at her earlobe.

“My boss.” She broke away from his embrace. “He was supposed
to be out all day.”

“This isn’t your office?”

“Cripes, no.” She yanked her panties from his jeans pocket
and struggled into them, balancing on one leg as he quickly zipped, tucked and
buttoned.

“What do I do with this condom?”

“Ick.” She scowled. “That’s your department.”

“He’s your boss,” Diego said. “I got no beef with him. I
don’t even know the guy.”

“Well, you know me,” she said, poking him in the chest.
“You’ll have a
beef
with me if you don’t solve the problem yourself.”

Chapter Four

“I can’t believe you’re taking me to a roach coach for
lunch,” Yancey teased Diego lightheartedly. If she’d truly been offended, her
eyelashes wouldn’t be fluttering.

He knew she’d change her tune once she took her first bite
anyway. Otherwise they had no future together beyond the great sex in the here
and now. That alone was epic.

“I’m going to order for you too,” he said, “so you might as
well be indignant now and get over it by the time we get to the front of the
line.”

“Yeah.” She butted her shoulder against his. “What’s with
this ridiculously long line anyhow? I’ve waited less at Chez Pierre’s on a
Saturday night with no reservations.”

“Chez Pierre’s, huh?” He matched her shoulder butt with one
of his own. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, fearing for a split second
that she might topple off her absurdly high heels. “What kind of schmuck would
take you to Chez Pierre’s on a Saturday night without making reservations?”

Yancey pushed up onto her tippy-toes to peck at his lips. “A
schmuck who took me for granted.” She landed another quick kiss on his mouth

Sweet.
“What a fool.” Diego clasped his hand on her
neck and kissed her firmly without much thought to the public forum. He didn’t
care who saw them. Why would he? She was the hottest thing on two heels. And he
was the luckiest guy in a five-block radius—maybe six.

“Are you a fool?” she asked when they broke apart.

Looking into her eyes for any sign of deceit, he replied,
“I’m no fool.”

Or maybe he was. Maybe he was the kind of fool who’d fall
over and over again for the wrong kind of girl. Seemed he had a type and that
type was bent on breaking his heart, spirit and pocketbook—not necessarily in
that order. Order implied predictability and women were anything but
predictable.

She locked her hands behind her back, thrusting out her
chest as a result. Twisting from side to side, she said, “If I didn’t know for
a fact this particular roach coach got an
A
plus rating from the health
department, you’d be eating alone, mister.”

Diego chuckled. “And how do you know that?”

“Our food critic did a piece for the leisure section a couple
months ago.” Yancey smiled sweetly. “I was the fact-checker.”

“Next?” yelled the dodgy-looking guy in the roach coach, and
the line moved. He looked as if he’d forgotten to shave that morning. The cook
at the grill had tattoos from his wrists to his shirtsleeves and probably
beyond.

“You allergic to anything?” Diego asked. When she shook her
head, he said, “You’re not one of those vegetarians, are you?”

“Nope.” She smiled and gnashed her teeth playfully at him.
“I’m a man eater.”

She was impish and flirty and wickedly naughty. And he loved
it. Yancey was playing him like a finely tuned instrument. He had a feeling she
had no idea of the power she wielded. Or perhaps that was part of her
superpower, the ability to completely fool him, make him do her dirty work,
whatever that might be. Rob a bank. Kill off her cheating husband. Take the
fall for robbing a bank or killing off her cheating husband. He swallowed his
doubts and winked at her. “Good.”

The aroma of grilled peppers and onions, along with the
sizzle from the grill, made his stomach rumble. At the front of the line Diego
ordered nachos with everything, a super burrito and a sampler platter of tacos,
taquitos and tamales. After paying, he cleared a dirty picnic table where he
and Yancey settled and munched on chips and salsa while waiting for the food.

Diego laced his fingers with Yancey’s and said, “Have dinner
with me tonight.”

After the hard time she’d given him the previous night about
following her home and getting her phone number, he’d decided not to ask,
simply insist or demand. It had worked for lunch. Maybe she liked to be told
what to do. If he had to guess, he’d say she’d prefer giving the orders…or
letting him think he called all the shots when they both knew she could crush
him with a frown, paralyze him with a venomous word or drown him with a single
tear.

“We haven’t even started lunch yet,” she said.

“Pack a bag.” He kissed her painted fingernails one at a
time. He’d been right. They matched the color of her racy little sports car.
“Stay for breakfast too.”

She snorted a cute little laugh. “You’re bad.”

Grinning mischievously, he said, “Sweetheart, you make me
bad.”

She smiled and glanced away, embarrassed if he had to guess
by the pink tinting her cheeks. Could she manufacture a blush as some women
faked tears? Could she fake tears as some women faked orgasms? He doubted her
sincerity while simultaneously desiring her affections.

Yancey squinted off into the distance and sat up tall. Her
mouth dropped open.

“What is it?” he asked, turning his attention in the
direction she was looking.

She waved her hand in the air. “Isn’t that…? No, never
mind.” Yancey shook her head. “I thought I saw Stanley.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Must be my imagination.”

Stanley.
The guy made Diego’s radar go on high alert.
“What’s with him anyhow?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied with a shake of his head. He didn’t
want her to go thinking he was trying to come between her and her coworker.
She’d peg him as a jealous control freak. Or she’d turn him into a jealous
control freak.

“Ramos!” the counter guy shouted. “Order’s up.”

He kissed Yancey’s hand before parting from her for a few
short seconds. He wasn’t sure whether Yancey had actually spotted Stanley
passing by, but Diego clearly saw the security guard from her office building,
still glaring at him as if he were spit on the sidewalk—or glaring again, this
time from the long line at the roach coach rather than from the elevators.
Maybe glaring was his only facial expression. The chance encounter immediately
struck him as odd, but it was lunchtime, after all, and as Yancey had said, the
coach had an
A
plus rating. The food was cheap, fast and incredible, not
to mention close to her office.

When he returned with the tray of food, she said, “Are we expecting
company? That’s a lot of food.”

“Eat up.” He served her some food to make sure she complied.
Diego didn’t care for dates who starved themselves. “But save room for dinner
tonight.”

She giggled. “And breakfast?”

Diego chuckled. He didn’t normally care for giggling girls,
but Yancey pulled it off. Her joy was real and infectious. He could picture
them laughing, teasing and playing in bed until all hours of the night. She’d
keep him up until dawn in more ways than one. The woman was a puzzle. It was almost
as if someone else had dressed her in sexy clothes that didn’t suit her bubbly
personality. He’d tell her so, except that he really enjoyed the view of her
cleavage peeking out from the V-neck of her blouse.

“I thought you were never off-duty,” she said, tilting her
head playfully at him, reminding him of his words to the cops the previous
night. Frankly he hadn’t thought she was paying attention to the exchange.
Yancey licked some salsa off her fingers. His breath caught in his throat at
the memory of her tongue swiping at his cock. “How are you going to make me
dinner and breakfast if you’re working? Sounds like a fool’s errand.”

“I got a buddy,” he said, winking devilishly. Two could play
her flirtatious games.

With her eyes wide and her expression coy, she asked, “Is he
going to make me dinner? And breakfast. And…”

“He’ll cover my tow calls.” Diego wagged his finger at her.
“I might enlist his help to hold you down while I spank you again. For real
this time.”

She exaggerated a gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” he challenged her. The very idea thickened his
cock beyond what was appropriate in public.

She placed her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her
hand. “Would you?”

* * * * *

Perched atop her highest heels, Yancey stepped off the elevator
at Diego’s condo complex and onto his third-floor hallway, which was long.

She’d been under the mistaken impression that teeth-rattling
sex would satisfy and calm her. No. Not true. Yancey had ached for Diego again
and again and again between lunch and dinner. She couldn’t wait to get back
into his strong embrace, to taste his searing kisses on her lips. Her body
throbbed and thrummed, anticipating his touch on her skin and in her body.

In the short time they’d been separated she’d added
sex
at work
to her Excel spreadsheet—a no-no she’d never before entertained—and
subsequently checked it off. She’d also marked off spanking. The impulsive idea
had never appealed to her until his fingers had stung her skin and made her
come in a rush of wet heat. Sadly she’d had to delete the X she’d placed next
to
one-night stand
, but her sadness hadn’t lasted for long, knowing
she’d be experiencing the bliss that was Diego Ramos again soon.

Being a researcher, Yancey lost a fair amount of time after
work gathering information on all things smutty, adding potential dirty deeds
to her ever-growing list of lascivious behavior. A jolt of expectation nearly
knocked her off her heels and onto her butt just thinking about the
possibilities. Yancey had studied words like fellatio and cunnilingus. How best
to give and receive. What to expect…best positions…etcetera…

The internet was ripe with information including how-to
videos, both professional and amateur. She’d dismissed certain activities, like
fisting and anything to do with his or her butt, but wondered if there was
anything she wouldn’t do to him or with him if he asked. If he simply
did—
with
or without asking.

Her heart beat faster and stronger with each door she passed
down the narrow hallway. It wasn’t too late to turn around—call the date off.
Steamy sex the night before had just sort of happened. The spicy encounter at
work hadn’t been planned either. Both had been trysts she could treasure
forever as her dirty little secrets. But tonight…tonight was totally planned uncharted
territory, if such a thing existed. In his condo, anything could happen. Her
stomach dipped and flipped and nearly tied itself in knots.

When her cell phone rang she stopped and fumbled through her
purse. Might be Diego wondering what was keeping her from his bed. The caller
ID display said “private”. “Hello? Hello?” Her eyes rolled up and she groaned.
Not
again
. She continued walking, checking each door for Diego’s unit. “I can
hear you breathing. Hello? I think you have the wrong number. Hello?” She could
hear background noise, but nothing discernible.
Butt dial
. There was a
lot of that going on lately. She ended the call and tucked her phone back into
her purse.

Stopping in front of door number 3F, she straightened her
jacket, licked her lips and struck a pose before knocking. Yancey didn’t have
to wait long for him to answer the door.

Diego smiled immediately, appraising her from head to toe
with hungry eyes. “Missed you.”

“You’re a charmer, Mr. Ramos,” she said. She had no idea
where her flirty words came from. She’d never been much good at toying with men
and hoped she didn’t sound ridiculous. Over the top. Cheesy.

He grabbed the belt of her raincoat, pulling her through the
door and into his arms. “Guilty.”

She heard the door shut behind her. The sound comforted her
and at the same time electrified her. Diego made her feel simultaneously safe
and in danger. Yancey felt the warmth from the kitchen—unless the heat was
coming from him or her or the gas fireplace ablaze with flickering romance. If he
wasn’t cooking in that kitchen, then why did he smell of spices, cilantro and
lemon? Hearing a sizzle, she decided he was indeed cooking for her. And she’d
anticipated takeout or delivery…or a cruel ruse to trick her into his bed. As
if he needed a trick.

Looping her arms around his neck, she said, “If you’re
guilty, I’ll be your jailer.”

“Lock me up and throw away the key.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Be my only visitor.”

Yancey squirmed and giggled at his ticklish kisses on her
sensitive neck.

“What’s with the raincoat?” he asked. Pulling her tighter
against him with one hand, he clutched her ass cheek with the other and pressed
his erection against her pelvis. “There’s not a cloud in the night sky.”

Touching her lips to his, she said, “It’s a surprise. For you.”

“I love surprises.” Diego let her loose and stood back,
waiting for his surprise.

She placed her purse on the kitchen counter and slowly
untied the belt at her waist. Starting from the bottom, she unbuttoned the
coat, careful not to unveil her surprise just yet. He cocked his head and
grinned. She took a painstakingly long time to drag out his expectancy. Diego
plopped down on a barstool, folding his thick arms over his chest.

“You didn’t get a tattoo, did you?” he asked, frowning.

She shook her head and said, “No.” A tattoo sounded like
something to consider.

“Piercing?” he asked. “Your body is perfection, baby. Don’t
do a thing to it.”

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Yancey opened her raincoat wide, flashing her naked
body—naked except for a pair of black-and-white polka-dot thigh-high silk
stockings and stiletto heels. She’d thought about wearing a nightie, or a bra
and panties, mostly because of her need to cover up her less than impressive
breasts. Settling on full-blown nakedness, she hoped her pussy would distract
him from her B-cup.

It might have worked, judging by his wide eyes and open
mouth.

“Are you insane?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer,
he continued. “What if your car broke down? What if—I don’t know—what if
someone attacked you? Yancey. Jeez. Promise me you’ll never leave your
apartment dressed…I mean
undressed
like that again. Promise me.”