Read Online Scandal in Seattle by Nicole Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nicole Williams
Ads: Link
I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll never be able to be with another man without thinking about me and what I did to you.”
No guy who was actually a pro in bed had to clarify that. He wouldn’t even think it, because he just knew. To date, I’d never met a single Target who hadn’t said something similar. In their minds, they were the be all end all. Especially when it came to knowing what to do with their dicks.
To date, for the record, not a single one had gotten me remotely close to orgasm. None had even made my nipples harden. I would have found crocheting baby booties more thrilling, honestly, than having sex with any of my Targets.
That whole morally reprehensible part? It was really hitting hard that night.
Ian tugged his shirt over his head before lowering himself over me. Two more things that added up to Ian Hendrik being a Giant Douche? He was about to drive his dick into me and he had yet to kiss me, and . . . and he was trying to drive said dick into me without a condom.
Probably why the bastard liked his conquests young. Less to worry about in the STD arena, although I’d run across teenagers getting twice as much action as I was, and what did Ian Hendrik care if he knocked up one of them? He wasn’t going to raise a child when he was still one, and the word of a married, renowned photographer would be taken over the word of a young woman his lawyer would paint as a greedy youth trying to pin an unplanned pregnancy on a man of means. Not that such a case would ever wind up in court in the first place. I didn’t doubt Ian would pay a conquest off before it ever got that far.
“Easy there, Grand Prix,” I said, shoving Ian’s chest. “Suit up or get up.”
“I don’t like condoms,” Ian replied, almost panting.
“Then I hope you like not getting laid because that’s exactly what’ll happen if you don’t put one on.”
Ian’s hand covered my breast, playing with my nipple. He wasn’t picking up what I was putting down. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, that one.
“I didn’t realize my winning came with so many conditions,” he said, his mouth taking his hand’s place on my breast.
“I didn’t realize a condom needed to be a condition these days. I thought that came pretty standard. You know, like cup holders in cars. You don’t have to ask because those little buggers are expected, not preferred.”
His tongue continued to circle my nipple as either he debated or hoped I’d change my mind. From the handy work his mouth was not making, he certainly wouldn’t have changed my mind, even if it could have been changed.
“Ian, I’m serious. Get off of me if you don’t have a condom or intend on using one.” I gave him another shove to prove how serious I was. I would do few things to jeopardize an Errand, but lack of a condom was one of them. As a hedge against Targets who “forgot” one—and with the men I dealt with, a good percentage of them usually did—I made sure to always keep a couple handy in my purse, clutch, dress, shoe, etc.
“Fine, but I don’t—”
Raising my leg, I slid my heel off, grabbed what I needed, and flashed the condom in his face. “Good thing I do then.” I lifted my eyebrows and waited.
He groaned before punching the hood of my car and standing up. If a man could look like a petulant little boy, Ian Hendrik had just nailed it. He grabbed the condom and was just moving it into position when a bright flash surprised us both. It came from the side and a ways up in the grandstands, but I didn’t need two guesses to know who had made it. If the grim outlook on humanity’s future didn’t kill me, an ignorant Contact would. Who in their right mind would use a flash at a dark race track? That’s right, no one. Which meant the Contact was a raging idiot.
“What the hell was that?” Ian grumbled, frozen as he surveyed the grandstand.
One sure way to distract a man’s attention from . . . anything, a speeding train included? Roll a
No guy who was actually a pro in bed had to clarify that. He wouldn’t even think it, because he just knew. To date, I’d never met a single Target who hadn’t said something similar. In their minds, they were the be all end all. Especially when it came to knowing what to do with their dicks.
To date, for the record, not a single one had gotten me remotely close to orgasm. None had even made my nipples harden. I would have found crocheting baby booties more thrilling, honestly, than having sex with any of my Targets.
That whole morally reprehensible part? It was really hitting hard that night.
Ian tugged his shirt over his head before lowering himself over me. Two more things that added up to Ian Hendrik being a Giant Douche? He was about to drive his dick into me and he had yet to kiss me, and . . . and he was trying to drive said dick into me without a condom.
Probably why the bastard liked his conquests young. Less to worry about in the STD arena, although I’d run across teenagers getting twice as much action as I was, and what did Ian Hendrik care if he knocked up one of them? He wasn’t going to raise a child when he was still one, and the word of a married, renowned photographer would be taken over the word of a young woman his lawyer would paint as a greedy youth trying to pin an unplanned pregnancy on a man of means. Not that such a case would ever wind up in court in the first place. I didn’t doubt Ian would pay a conquest off before it ever got that far.
“Easy there, Grand Prix,” I said, shoving Ian’s chest. “Suit up or get up.”
“I don’t like condoms,” Ian replied, almost panting.
“Then I hope you like not getting laid because that’s exactly what’ll happen if you don’t put one on.”
Ian’s hand covered my breast, playing with my nipple. He wasn’t picking up what I was putting down. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, that one.
“I didn’t realize my winning came with so many conditions,” he said, his mouth taking his hand’s place on my breast.
“I didn’t realize a condom needed to be a condition these days. I thought that came pretty standard. You know, like cup holders in cars. You don’t have to ask because those little buggers are expected, not preferred.”
His tongue continued to circle my nipple as either he debated or hoped I’d change my mind. From the handy work his mouth was not making, he certainly wouldn’t have changed my mind, even if it could have been changed.
“Ian, I’m serious. Get off of me if you don’t have a condom or intend on using one.” I gave him another shove to prove how serious I was. I would do few things to jeopardize an Errand, but lack of a condom was one of them. As a hedge against Targets who “forgot” one—and with the men I dealt with, a good percentage of them usually did—I made sure to always keep a couple handy in my purse, clutch, dress, shoe, etc.
“Fine, but I don’t—”
Raising my leg, I slid my heel off, grabbed what I needed, and flashed the condom in his face. “Good thing I do then.” I lifted my eyebrows and waited.
He groaned before punching the hood of my car and standing up. If a man could look like a petulant little boy, Ian Hendrik had just nailed it. He grabbed the condom and was just moving it into position when a bright flash surprised us both. It came from the side and a ways up in the grandstands, but I didn’t need two guesses to know who had made it. If the grim outlook on humanity’s future didn’t kill me, an ignorant Contact would. Who in their right mind would use a flash at a dark race track? That’s right, no one. Which meant the Contact was a raging idiot.
“What the hell was that?” Ian grumbled, frozen as he surveyed the grandstand.
One sure way to distract a man’s attention from . . . anything, a speeding train included? Roll a
Similar Books
