NerdsareFreaksToo Page 3

  The new position shifted the hem of her top, exposing a mouthwatering swath of glowing skin the color of dark-brown sugar. Of course, he suspected she would taste ten times sweeter. At this angle, her waist appeared even more narrow, her hips and ass fuller. Fuck! She was so beautiful. Leo tipped his eyes upward and prayed for strength. It would be so simple to flip her skirt up and take a bite out of each butt cheek.

  Testing her, Leo rested his palm on her lower back. She stiffened under his hand but this time Leo held his tongue. A good submissive only needed one correction.

  Roxanne sucked in several shallows breaths. On the last exhale, she relaxed slightly and crossed her arms, resting her cheek against them. “Okay, I’m ready,” she murmured.

  Not quite as stiff as a board, she was still pretty tense. Unable to hold back any longer, Leo raised his hand and let off some steam.

  Half expecting her to cuss him out, Leo hesitated after the first slap. He’d hit her harder than he’d planned. He couldn’t help it. His primal instincts had roared to life and his lust had run away with his self-control.

  Before he got carried away, Leo looked down at her. “Red, yellow or green.”

  To Leo’s surprise, she whispered, “Green.”

  Given the green light, Leo loosened the reins and let go. His lust demanded it. If he couldn’t gain release through his cock, he would reach the same sexual satisfaction from dominating her flesh.

  Steadying her with a hand on her back, Leo raised his hand again and let it rip.

  “Oh!” She started, her torso rearing up. Leo guided her back down. She hadn’t used the safe word. And until she did, he wouldn’t hold back. He lifted his hand once more and let it fall, harder this time.

  Leo’s breathing quickened as she wiggled and moaned, her round flesh quivering under his palm. “Green!” she squealed. “Green…green…green…”

  Her response fueled his desire and he gave her what she demanded, spanking her again and again, each time harder and harder.

  “How does it feel?” Leo asked. His voice sounded gruff and disembodied. He felt like a man possessed. If he wasn’t careful, he’d blow soon. And he didn’t want that. If he was going to come, he wanted to do it with his cock buried in her mouth or pussy, not still nestled in the safety of his jeans.

  “I definitely— Ah!” she sucked in a breath when his hand landed across her backside again. “I really like spanking.”

  Leo growled. He’d never been this sexually frustrated in his life. Not even in junior high when Keisha Johnson-Miller used to flash him on the playground. And the feel of Roxanne’s wiggling butt cheeks only intensified his longing. Damn! He wanted to witness his handiwork. If she were his lover, he could yank up her skirt, yank down her panties and plunge his fingers into her core. Just imagining a blush tattooing her brown skin had pre-cum leaking from his cock.

  Leo squeezed his eyes shut. His leg muscles tightened and breathing seemed impossible. She was just too warm and luscious. And totally oblivious to the havoc she was causing. She moved over him, rocking her hips over his crotch—

  Leo’s hand stilled in midair.

  She was dry humping him.

  He wanted her to come, but not like this. “Roxanne, stop.”

  “Stop what?” she panted, her hips gaining momentum.

  “If you don’t stop dry humping me, we’re going to end up fucking. Our friendship be damned.”

  When her hips suddenly stilled, he bit back a groan. He’d half hoped she would disobey.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, finally sitting up and sucking all the heat from Leo’s groin. “I guess that wasn’t very friend-like of me.” She laughed nervously and Leo couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips.

  “No it wasn’t, but of course you know I don’t mind.”

  “I’m sure,” she murmured as her gaze darted away. “I, ah, better see you out…long day at the boutique tomorrow.”

  Leo’s balls shrank in his boxer shorts but he understood. This was all too new to her. Hell, it was a shock to his system as well. Just this afternoon, he’d divulged a secret he’d been holding close to his heart for almost ten years.

  As they stood, he reached in his back pocket for his wallet. Better that than tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs to her bedroom. Taking his time, he pulled it out then fished inside for a business card.

  “Can I borrow a pen?”

  “Sure.” Roxanne looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. Leo smiled to himself. She looked like she had no clue which way was up or down. After some disorientation, she handed him a pencil she’d located in the sofa table behind the couch. Leo scribbled onto the back of his card. “Your profile’s almost done. This is your username and password. You should have no problem completing the rest of the questions.”

  Leo handed her the card and noticed she took pains to avoid his touch. It didn’t bother him. The damage was already done. She wore his handprint on her ass.

  “I might not be a fan of your decision, but I’ll help you weed out all the weirdoes and undesirables if you want.” While she stared down at the vanilla-colored business card, Leo wondered what she was thinking. So much so, he wanted to kiss it out of her.

  She finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a dreamy expression. “I’ve always appreciated you being my moral compass,” she murmured. “So, that would be nice.”

  Nice? Far from it, Leo mused.

  He was going to use her curiosity to drive her right into his bed.

  Chapter Three

  By the time daylight crept through the sheer panel curtains in Roxanne’s bedroom, her body was still screaming for release. Frustrated, she rolled over onto her back.

  “Ouch,” Roxanne yelped. Turning over quickly, she rested on her side. Her backside was still sore from last night. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for her cunt.

  Roxanne lifted her fist and punched the nearest pillow. Why couldn’t he have allowed her to keep going instead of throwing an ice-cold bucket of reality in her face?

  Who would’ve thought getting spanked could be such a delicious punishment?

  “You just want to be friends,” Roxanne sneered, mimicking the lame excuse she’d given him. Her lip curled in self-disgust. Once again her hard-headedness came with harsh consequences—the female equivalent of blue balls. If only she’d just given in, she’d be sated and grinning from ear to ear right now.

  Even better, Leo would still be here, spread naked across her queen-sized bed. His long, lean body would reach from end to end, but she wouldn’t care. She’d pounce on him, demanding another round.

  Groaning loudly, Roxanne grabbed one of the pillows and clutched it close. Self torture in the form of celibacy could be a bitch.

  But it doesn’t have to be, does it? Roxanne’s eyes popped open. She might not have a lover, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get off, especially when her unrequited sexual desires had resulted in a sleepless night. Of their own accord, her hands slid down her body as she rolled onto her back gingerly, mindful of her sore behind. She fisted the hem of her yellow nightie and hauled it over her hips. There wasn’t any need to be sexy or a tease since she was alone.

  “Alone, but still going to moan!” Laughing at the corniness of her rhyme, Roxanne lifted her hips and chucked the nightgown’s matching panties.

  “What would Leo do?” she wondered aloud. Considering he was a red-blooded man, he’d probably go straight to the source. Roxanne reached between her legs and touched herself. The shorn curls covering her mound tickled the palm of her hand. She applied more pressure and started to rock her hand back and forth.

  “Mmm.” She hadn’t expected her core to be so wet. In this case, it seems that if I don’t use it, I won’t lose it.

  Loving the power of working her own body, she applied more pressure. When she slowed her pace, she moaned; when she quickened the sweep of her hand, her hips shot off the bed. So close, yet still so far from the precipice that would fin
ally give her some respite from last night.

  Roxanne snuggled deeper into the pillows, then tried inching herself higher, half lying down and half sitting up. In truth, the position didn’t matter; she needed more. “Damn, where’s a vibrator when a girl needs one!”

  Always willing to adapt to life’s circumstances, even when it came to sex, Roxanne pressed three fingers together and, licking her lips in anticipation, slowly parted her lips and eased them into her pussy.

  She glided her thumb over her clit repeatedly. As the sensitive bud stiffened, a frisson akin to static electricity shot through her lower body and all the way up her arm.

  “Ohh…now that’s more like it,” Roxanne purred. She moved her fingers slowly. She’d suffered for eight long hours and she didn’t want to rush this. With each measured stroke, Roxanne imagined Leo doing this to her, his big, strong hands and fingers working and stretching her.

  “Yes, yes,” she panted, her fervor increasing.

  Roxanne pumped and rolled the sensitive button around and around in a steady rhythm. Her clit swelled in gratitude, became slippery and coated her thumb.

  “Oh yeah,” Roxanne groaned, as pressure increased in the pit of her belly. She knew she’d soon reach the peak. Her nipples were puckered and her body buzzed, starting with her left butt cheek…

  Roxanne frowned. The hand between her legs certainly wasn’t vibrating her backside.

  Her cell phone.

  When will I catch a break? Roxanne groped the rumpled covers for her cell. Pulling it from under her, she glanced at the caller ID. It was only her assistant Jessina—not Leo, as she’d secretly hoped.

  Sighing loudly, Roxanne pressed the receiver button.

  “Buenos dias!”

  “Good morning, Jessina.”

  “Are you coming in today?”

  “Sure, why do you ask?” Sitting up, Roxanne’s gaze flew to the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only seven o’clock. Her store, Golden Years—one of Chicago’s hippest vintage boutiques—didn’t open for another three hours.

  “Well, I’m down here at Sunny Side waiting on you.”

  Dammit! It was Friday. One of the busiest days of the week at the boutique. To get ready for the impending chaos, she and Jessina met every Friday morning at their favorite mom-and-pop diner.

  “I’m sorry, Jessina. I overslept,” Roxanne lied, throwing back the covers and rolling out of bed. “Give me thirty minutes and I can meet you.”

  “No need to rush. Besides, I’m starving. By the time you got here I’d be gnawing at my own foot. Go ahead and sleep in a little longer. I’ll have breakfast then go open up the boutique.”

  Roxanne experienced a twinge of guilt. As the owner, she should be the one opening the store, not laying in bed masturbating. “Are you sure?”

  “You always look out for me, so it’s only right I return the favor.”

  “I appreciate it, Jessina. I had a rough night. While you’re eating breakfast, I’ll get a jump on all the online stuff, so when I come in we can get the storeroom in order. And I really want to change out the front window.”

  “Sounds good to me. See you later, ciao.”

  Roxanne said goodbye. As she leaned over to place the phone on the nightstand, she hesitated, her thumb hovering over the number one key. All she needed to do was punch the number then hit send, and it would speed dial Leo’s cell number.

  “What the heck are you doing? There’s absolutely no way you and Leo could be anything other than friends.” If things didn’t work out, she’d lose a lover and a friend. And that wasn’t worth any amount of sex in the world.

  Shelving her moment of insanity, Roxanne reached for her bathrobe, slipped her arms into its cloudlike softness and went into the bathroom, where she washed her face and hands.

  Determined to get back on track before she ended up a lonely, old woman with a Rabbit vibrator and fifty cats, she left her bathroom and walked the short distance down the hall to her home office.

  With each step her determination grew, and by the time Roxanne plopped down into her office chair, she no longer had thoughts of taking Leo as a lover. Well…almost.

  Loaded with extra RAM, complements of her sexual tormentor, Roxanne’s laptop booted up in a matter of seconds. After logging in, she tracked the delivery of the boutique’s resort collection, processed orders from the online website and answered as many email messages as she could handle without her brain frying.

  An hour later, Roxanne found herself in a satisfying lull. She’d made such good use of her time, she could play around a little before hopping in the shower. She jumped up and ran downstairs. She’d left the business card with her username and password on the coffee table in the living room.

  “I am not going to give in to you, Mr. Leonidas Papadopoulos,” she muttered, once again sitting back down in front of her laptop. “You might know what you’re doing, but there are plenty of kinky fish in the sea. And I’m going to find one.”

  Even if she only half-believed her self-affirmation, Roxanne pressed ahead by typing in the URL address for WhipADate.com.

  “Oh my,” Roxanne whispered as the website’s homepage popped up in all its S&M-style glory.

  The site must change its graphics regularly, because the couple featured previously was now a threesome. Sans clothing, a woman stood facing a giant X, while two men in full face masks and tiny black briefs flanked her. One held a length of rope, the other a garden hose.

  “Oh my,” Roxanne repeated. Was she really ready to explore her kinky side with a complete stranger?

  Of course not, but her stupid curiosity wouldn’t allow her to run scared now. Especially not after last night.

  After navigating through the welcome screen, she clicked into her member profile. To her surprise, she already had several messages waiting in her inbox.

  Roxanne tapped her foot excitedly, weighing whether to open her inbox or not. “Come on, big shot. It’s time to put out or shut up.”

  Making up her mind, Roxanne weeded through the initial welcome email then proceeded to open several others she’d received from various members. Their emails were straight to the point and seemed torn out of BDSM Dating for Dummies. Kink with a side of perversion was the order of the day.

  Every message was an open and unabashed invitation to partake in a vice or fetish much too hardcore for Roxanne’s taste. She didn’t have any interest in being a personal potty, a footstool or being kept.

  Not finding anyone or anything of interest, Roxanne sent each sender a polite “thanks, but no thanks”.

  Already sexed out for the day, Roxanne decided to sign off. Just as her finger moved toward the power button—a sex swing suddenly flew onto the computer screen.

  Amused and interest piqued, she clicked on the image. The swing slowly dissolved to display a message.

  Hello,

  Thought I would never meet a woman under the age of thirty who still plays charades while sipping on Tom & Jerrys. I love small talk, dessert before dinner and playing tag football in the park on Sundays. Think we should meet at Restoration Hardware so we can pick out China patterns? Just kidding! Let your guard down and let me in.

  ThePuppetMaster

  Impressed by his ability to write something other than, “Hey, you’re beautiful, I’d love to duct tape you to the bathroom door”, Roxanne clicked through to his member page.

  “Twenty-nine-year-old Caucasian male, six-foot-three with an athletic build. College educated. Self-employed. No kids. Never Been Married. Living with Pets.”

  Needing to find some kind of hidden flaw, she kept reading aloud.

  “Your hobbies include—drinking overpriced coffee, trying to decipher abstract art, working out, taking spontaneous road trips, renting old black-and-white movies and watching the Chicago Bulls. On the freak scale of one to five whips, you rate yourself at four and a half.”

  Well, at least he was modest. Roxanne glanced over at the website’s Whip-O-Matic scale. According to his
personal rating, he liked voyeurism and/or exhibitionism, mutual bondage, random role playing and some fetishes with the right person.

  Her excitement mounting, she searched his profile for a photo. There wasn’t one, just an empty box where a photo might go.

  Roxanne frowned. He was almost too good to be true. She coveted her membership to Play It Again Video and her Java the Hut, buy-seven-cups-of-coffee-get-one-free card. She also attended every exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art. And she and Leo had held Chicago Bulls season tickets since 2004.

  Déjà vu tickled the back of her neck.

  It couldn’t be Leo…could it? “He wouldn’t be that cruel or that stupid,” Roxanne mumbled. “I would put my foot so far up his behind, he wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

  Roxanne’s doubts evaporated like smoke when a live-chat request appeared in the upper-right-hand corner of her computer screen—from ThePuppetMaster. A simple graphic containing an open field for running dialogue, the message box also allowed for the exchange of pictures or images.

  Unlike his profile, there was an image attached to the request.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Roxanne wolf whistled. Her admirer’s picture featured a hunk of a man in the process of removing a white t-shirt over his head. The shirt covered most of his face, except for his chiseled jaw, a pair of full lips and a nose.

  Roxanne pulled the collar of her now too heavy bathrobe. His tanned skin was roped with corded muscles only long hours in the gym and a proper diet could produce. Eight-pack abs and chiseled v-cuts peeked over a pair of low-slung jeans. His body was a lethal catalyst for any woman’s late-night fantasy, or gay man’s wet dream.

  Roxanne plopped her head in her hands. She’d always been a sucker for a hard body. And this guy’s body hit her like a sucker punch below the belt. Roxanne tried to stop the excited jump of her clit by shifting in her desk chair, but it only accelerated the throbbing.

  “Come on, get a grip, girl,” she chastised. “The sight of a beautiful body and a few common interests shouldn’t have you panting in heat.”