Typist #2 - Spanking the Billionaire Novelist (5 page)

BOOK: Typist #2 - Spanking the Billionaire Novelist
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A little boy and a little girl, about ten and probably twins, came by with baskets of roses for sale.

Smith whipped out his wallet and bought a red rose for me and a yellow one for Cassie, who'd just returned to our blanket. They were just single roses, and yet, the look in Smith's eyes was so tender when he presented them to us.

“I'm the luckiest man in the world, tonight,” he said. “Sitting here with two beautiful girls.”

Callum returned, with plastic cups of wine for all of us.

Smith said to Callum, “I should have got you a flower, man! What color rose is for a
bromance
?”

Callum looked up thoughtfully. “Pink?” He handed out the cups of wine and then reached behind him and produced three pink roses at once. “For my beautiful sister,” he said, handing Cassie the first rose. “You make the whole family proud, and I know one day I'll be asking for
your
autograph.” He handed the second pink rose to an amused-looking Smith. “For my bromantic pal, the bestselling author and all-around great guy.” Lastly, he handed the third to me. “And for our new friend. You inspire me, with your beauty and your grace.”

I fanned my face, which only brought more attention to the fact I was blushing.

Smith put his arm around me and said, “Admire her beauty and grace from afar, or the bromance is over.”

We all laughed at this, but Callum kept looking over, his expression hungry.

I felt guilty for enjoying the attention, so I kissed Smith tenderly on the cheek.

The band played until dusk, and then a trio of clowns appeared to make balloon animals for the kids who hadn't yet fallen asleep in their sleeping bags.

As the clowns were finishing, the fireworks started. All four of us lay on our backs on the blanket, enjoying the show high overhead, laughing at the crowd's oohs and aahs and then eventually joining in with our own.

After the fireworks, some of the families with younger kids packed up and went home. The crowd thinned, with many of the teenagers running off to find trouble. With everyone in the park, they had the run of the town, and they knew it.

We stayed right where we were, since we were already in a prime position. The movie would be playing on a screen over the band stage.

The movie was
Ghostbusters
, which I'd never seen before.

Smith stared at me, his mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock.

“I know
of
the movie,” I said. “It's just … kinda old.”

Callum grinned at me and said, “His generation thinks eighties movies are the best.”

Cassie asked Smith, “Did you have a
Ghostbusters
lunch box?”

“Ha ha,” Smith said. “Everybody gang up on the old guy. Don't get me started, or I'll regale you all with my tales of 'When I was a kid.'”

I squeezed his knee. “I'm sure it wasn't that different from today, although the transition to horseless carriages must have been exciting.”

“Ha ha,” he said again. “When I was a kid ...” He paused, as though waiting for someone to stop him, but we didn't. I couldn't speak for the others, but I was genuinely interested. He continued, “When I was a kid, if you wanted to rent a movie, you also rented a VCR to watch it on. They were so expensive, people didn't buy their own, not for the first few years.”

Callum said, “That doesn't seem very convenient.”

“It wasn't, but it made movie night kind of a big deal. You had to plan for it, like an event.” He looked around the dwindling crowd of people in the park. “Not like this, but you get the idea. Now people watch movies on their phones.”

“And read books on their phones,” Cassie said.

“That's right.” He smiled. “The only downside to ebooks is I can't see the cover, so I can't tell if someone in a public place is reading one of mine.”

“Aww,” Cassie said.

“I know.” He pretended to pout.

After a moment, I smacked him on the arm. “Smith Wittingham! You made me feel sorry for you, you scammer! You're a mega bestseller, and I'm sure everybody here in this town owns one or more of your books. Don't make that pouty face. You don't deserve to.”

He laughed and rubbed his hands together like an evil supervillain.

Cassie said to me, “I'm glad you call him on his nonsense.” To Smith, she said, “This one's a keeper. Don't you dare frighten her away.”

Callum said, “And don't mess with her head.”

I held up my hand to stop things before they got embarrassing. “I'm a big girl. I assure you.”

The speakers crackled and squealed with feedback. Some people on the stage ran around, and then one of the balloon-making clowns introduced the movie.

Smith kept looking over at me with his devilish eyes undressing me. I rubbed my legs together in anticipation, then I got an idea.

I excused myself to the washroom and wove my way through the crowd of people on blankets. The portable toilets were a harrowing experience—as those awful things always are—but I emerged with my panties tucked in my purse and a smile on my face.

When I got back to our picnic space, I found that Smith had paid to rent some funny little chairs that were like backrests. Cassie and Callum were seated in their own row, in front of us, and I took a seat next to Smith. He'd also procured some additional blankets, and he draped a shared one across both of our laps.

He took longer than I expected to snake his hand over between my legs—more than five minutes.

His fingers paused on the red triangle of hair between my legs, as though they couldn't believe their good fortune to find I had actually removed my panties.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Smith turn to stare at me, but I kept facing forward. The sky around us was dark, and people were focused on the opening sequence of the movie, but enough light reflected from the screen that we weren't in complete darkness, and I didn't want to broadcast to the people around us that a sexy older man had his index finger on my bare-naked clit.

He mashed against the nub, hot and aching. The sensation felt better than I'd remembered. How could one tiny body part give off so much pleasure?

His digit moved down, pushing between my labia, finding that wetness springing up. He fingered me, then dragged the moisture up, over and over, lingering just long enough on my nub to set the area on fire, then he'd pull away. He shifted closer to me on his chair. I leaned back against my backrest and parted my legs slightly. His finger plunged inside me, which only made me want more.

I glanced around. Was there somewhere private we could run off to, so I could feel his manhood inside me, reaching where his finger couldn't? The portable potties were out of the question, but what about the other side of the building the movie was being—

OH GOD.

I stopped thinking about going anywhere else. His wet fingers were now attending to my clit, rubbing and circling it like The Clit Squad. I closed my eyes, my breathing quick and shallow, and succumbed to the pleasure. Wave after wave of warmth and urgency radiated through me.

I opened my eyes to see Callum turned around, staring right at me. I sat up and crossed my legs, pinching Smith's hand to hold it still.

Smith turned to me and said casually, “Popcorn. We need popcorn.”

“Yes,” I said, my voice sounding tight and thin. “Or chips? Callum, is the concession still open?”

Callum seemed suspicious, his eyes darting down to my legs under the blanket. “I'll go get popcorn. You two … carry on. Don't let anything stop you.”

After Callum left, I extracted Smith's hand from between my legs. As close as I'd been to climax, I was now miles away and feeling ashamed.

Smith leaned in and said, “He's just missing his girlfriend. Ignore him.” He chuckled.

“Callum has a girlfriend?”

“A nice girl from town. She's at summer school, law degree.” He brought his hand to his face and smelled his fingers. “Mm, I can't wait until later.”

I reached under the blanket to his side and squeezed his hardness through his jeans. “Me neither.”

“Could you do that again?” His eyes crinkled up at the sides.

I squeezed the shaft and stroked my hand up and down, over the fabric. “Like that?”

“Perfect. Now just do it about a hundred more times.”

I pulled my hand away and leaned in to nibble on his earlobe. “You have great ears,” I said. “They're plump and I want to bite them.”

“Are you saying my ears are fat?”

“Yes.”

He crossed his arms and scowled, the pointy tip of his nose looking longer in that expression.

I sucked the bottom of his earlobe into my mouth and pulsed it with my tongue.

He sighed.

I murmured into his ear, “I like juicy, plump things to suck on.”

He groaned and wriggled around. “How long is this damn movie? Why isn't it over yet?”

I nibbled and sucked on his earlobe, then pulled my mouth away to whisper, “We could always leave early.”

I barely had time to blink before he had me up, on my feet.

Some people behind us grumbled about us blocking their view.

I crouched down and let Callie know we were checking out early, mumbling something about stomach problems. She gave me a knowing look as she nodded.

Smith kept me close in front of him. I thought he was using my body to disguise his erection from the crowd, but he kept me there even as we got out to the road, that firm rod pressing me on, faster.

We were still a block away from the gas station where we'd parked the quad when he pulled me into the dark passage between two buildings. The space was narrow, and he pressed my back against the brick wall.

Then he was all over me at once, kissing my lips and neck, his warm hands on my buttocks, under my dress.

“Climb the wall,” he said.

I gasped between his ferocious kisses raining down on me, “What?”

His belt jingled as he unfastened it and the top of his jeans.

“Press your back into the wall and walk your feet up the other wall.”

He then hoisted me up, and to my surprise, I braced my feet on either side of him, and I was no longer touching the ground.

With no panties in the way, he was nearly inside me in seconds. He paused, his tight-fitting jeans loosened but not slid down, and the hot, full head of his cock pressed against me, more into the side of my leg than my opening.

“You're a little off-target,” I whispered.

With one hand still cradling my buttock and helping me stay in position, he reached his other hand under my skirt, to my pussy.

“There's that ginger minge,” he said, stroking my triangle. “You're so wet for me.” His fingers nudged inside me and dragged slick moisture up to my clit. Using his hand as a guide, he dragged his cock forward and back within my crease, the pleasure searing.

“I want you,” I murmured.

“You're so wet for me. So wet.” He kissed me, hard. “So beautiful and so wet. All I have to do is look at you and I'm hard.”

“I want you.”

“Say it again.”

“I want you, Smith.”

He moaned and pushed partway into me.

I nearly lost my grip on the wall and collapsed, but he propped me up. I stiffened my legs, bracing myself.

He pushed in again, but he couldn't get in all the way. His hips were squeezed between my thighs, so he adjusted my legs to be wider.

Now we were set, and he groaned and sunk himself into me. I cried out in pleasure, and he quieted my cries with his soft, wet lips on my mouth.

We kissed, tongues tangling, me making soft, mewling sounds, and he found his rhythm, his cock getting stiffer with every stroke.

I came suddenly, my cries turning to a low, animal groan.

“My sweet Tori,” he said. “Tori.”

He paused, and then he drove into me, pumping me up the wall on my back, my hair catching behind me and pulling my head back, exposing my neck. He kissed and licked and sucked my neck hungrily as he came, his liquid hot inside me.

He grunted, and clenched me to him, his cock shaking.

I opened my eyes to find him looking right at me, his expression one of surprise, or perhaps curiosity.

We stared at each other for a quiet moment. We were in a public place, a darkened alleyway just steps from the sidewalk. I could hear the sounds of the movie playing in the park, and all those people not far away.

He moaned and kissed my forehead. “That was so good.”

Slowly, he withdrew from me, and I felt the fluid run straight out of me, to the ground. He didn't seem to notice, and slowly helped me down from the wall.

“My legs are shaking,” I said.

“I'll take the credit for that,” he said. “Let's pretend it had nothing to do with your gymnastics.”

Once on steady ground, I opened my purse and pulled out some tissues and my panties, then tidied up and put them on. He had his jeans back up, and drew me in against him. I thought it was for another kiss, but he just hugged me.

Some people walked by on the sidewalk, unaware of the two of us in the narrow space, mere feet away.

“You're amazing, Tori,” he said, still hugging me.

“You're not so bad yourself.” I squeezed his buttocks.

He whispered, “I really like you.”

I felt his words ripple through me, as pleasurable as his touch on my body. “I like you too.”

BOOK: Typist #2 - Spanking the Billionaire Novelist
8.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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