Missy Johnson - Provoke

He chuckled as he pried them back apart, forcing them flat on the bed.

“No need to suffocate me,” he said dryly. “If you don’t want me to—”

“Don’t be a bastard,” I cried, pushing his face back down between my thighs. I moaned as his tongue ran back and forth along my folds while he slipped a finger inside me. “Oh, yes,” I cried. My hands flew up to my face as I tried to compose myself. Compose myself? Who the fuck cared?

I spread my legs further apart. His hands slipped around my thighs, resting under my ass. My fingers stroked his thick hair, clutching tightly as his tongue dipped inside of me.

“Tease,” I muttered, lifting my hips. His tongue began to massage my clit as he thrust two fingers inside me. “Oh, fuck, that feels good,” I mumbled, rocking my hips in sync with his tongue.

Shivers shot down my spine. I moaned, shifting my legs so they locked around his waist. My hold on his hair tightened as his mouth continued to taste me, his tongue sweeping over my folds, the sensation almost unbearable.

“Oh yeah,” I sighed, my body tensing as his tongue began to move faster over me. “Faster,” I panted, his head firmly in my grip. Oh hell, that feels amazing. My hips jerked as I began to climax, while his tongue thrust inside of me and he teased my clit with his finger.

I pulled him away from me, guiding him up to my face, his lips pressing against mine. The taste of my pussy on his lips excited me as his erection pressed against my thigh. Reaching between us, I gripped his cock in my hand, sliding my fist up and down his shaft. He groaned as he kissed my neck.

He thrust at my entrance, his stiffness sliding inside me as my muscles gripped hold of him, refusing to let go. His arm slid under the curve of my back. I yelped as he flipped me so I was on top, straddling him.

“That’s better,” he muttered, grabbing hold of my hips. I grinned and began to ride him, rubbing my breasts as I stared down at him. “Fuck, Leet. You drive me crazy,” he panted, rocking me, driving his hard cock deeper inside of me.

I rolled my nipples between my fingers as I grinned devilishly down at him. He grunted, throwing his head back as his thrusts increased.

“Yeah, fuck,” he gasped. He bucked his hips, groaning as he released, pulling me down into his arms. “You always make me blow so fucking hard,” he muttered, kissing me on the neck. I giggled and lifted myself off him.

Curling up in his arms, barely awake as he tickled my back, I sighed. This was heaven. His touch against my bare skin was orgasmic. I almost couldn’t handle it.

“Love you, Leets,” he whispered as he nibbled on my ear lobe.

“Love you too,” I mumbled, drifting off.

Leeta

I braced myself as I walked back into the office after hearing the verdict. They were going to go mental, and no doubt Tim had already told them everything. Pushing through the door, cheers erupted as I walked toward my desk.

“Good work, Leeta!”

I grinned and rolled my eyes, trying to pretend the praise didn’t faze me when in reality, I was fucking loving it. As a new member of the senior team at the office of public prosecutions, this was my first major win, and I had slammed it. The guilty decision had been unanimous, and had taken less than three hours for the jury to reach. Three fucking hours. That was unheard of!

“Very well done, Leeta.”

Donovan Peters, one of the head prosecutors, gave me a hug and handed me a bottle of wine with a fancy label. Ooh, expensive.

“There must have been something special in that closing argument of yours.”

I blushed, thinking back to the moments before in the room, on the phone with Mace. Maybe that had been my secret weapon. Well, having to work that into every trial was something I was more than willing to consider.

“Keep this up and you’ll be moving up the ranks in no time,” he added with a wink.

Wow. I loved the feeling of winning. Always had. Right back to my primary school debate days when I’d made a girl from the opposing team cry over what was the better ice cream flavour.

How could the answer have been anything other than chocolate?

My mind drifted back to the moment the jury had announced their verdict. I had rocked that courtroom like it was my bitch, and it felt great. I couldn’t wait to tell Mace.

Shit. I glanced at my watch. I was running late. I was supposed to be at the restaurant in five minutes. Peak hour in the city was a nightmare. It would take me at least twenty to get across the city.

“Shit, Tim, I gotta go.” I brushed my lips past his cheek and shimmied on my jacket. “Dinner with my parents and Mace,” I added with a smile.

“Good luck! Text me how it goes, honey.”

#

The damn elevator wouldn’t move fast enough. I stood there staring at the screen that displayed the floor it was on. Why the fuck was it still on level twenty? I reached over and pressed the button, as if it were going to suddenly give a shit that I was running late and hurry up.

Ugh, fuck this. I sprinted toward the stairwell and began my decent, two stairs at a time. Five minutes later, completely breathless I stumbled into the foyer. People glanced at me, taking a wide berth around me.

Yeah, you should see me running up ten flights of stairs. I was so unfit it wasn’t funny.

Smoothing out my suit, I ran out onto the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the station. On my way I texted Mace.

Sorry baby, running late. Be there ASAP xx

No sooner had I’d shoved it back into my jacket pocket than it began to ring. I answered right away, expecting it to be Mace, not my father.

“Where are you?” asked Dad. I rolled my eyes, clearly picking up the annoyance in his tone. God forbid I keep the Colonel waiting. Our relationship had shifted over the years into the strained, awkward one it now was.

There had been a time when I’d been such a daddy’s girl. He’d been my hero. Everything I’d done was with the intention of impressing him—until that became harder and harder to do. Eventually, I realized I needed to put myself first or I’d go insane.

“Sorry,” I huffed, jogging down the stairs at the station two at a time. “Trial ran over. I’m on my way.”

“Okay. Hurry, though.”

Sure, because I was planning on taking my time.

I picked up my speed when I saw the train on the platform, sliding into it just as the doors began to close. I sat down on the only vacant seat, which was next to a rather rotund man who smelled of cheese.

I kept as close to the edge of the seat as I possibly could without appearing rude, which still nearly had me pressed up against him. He smiled at me and I smiled back, then turned my attention to the book I’d pulled out to pretend to read.

“One of the classics.”

I glanced at the man, surprised. “It is,” I agreed. To Kill a Mockingbird was one of my favourites.

“My favourite novel,” he smiled. “I actually have a signed first edition in my collection.”

Holy shit. I’d dismissed this man as a homeless bum. My face flushed, embarrassed at my rush to judge him. I was better than that. At least I thought I was.

My phone buzzed, saving me. I excused myself, pulling it out to check the message. It was from Mace.

Leets, I cannot go in there without you. Just try and hurry, okay? We don’t need to give your parents more ammunition.

Why is everyone on my case today?

The train pulled up to the station opposite the restaurant I was headed to. Jumping up, I raced off, jogging up the mountain of stairs and out onto the street. I spotted Mace, pacing back and forth just down from the door.

God, he is so fucking hot. And he’s actually dressed up. The last time I’d seen him in a suit was at his brother’s trial three months earlier. Yet here he was, donning a black suit, clean-shaven, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. Part of me wanted to skip dinner, drag him back to my place, and . . . well, you get the picture.

“There you are.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my head. “Busy day?” Argh, he smelled amazing. The scent of wood tones and musk surrounded me. It wasn’t fair that he was so damn irresistible.

I nodded. “I won.” His face lit up, and I couldn’t help but smile. I loved that regardless of the difference in our upbringings, when it came to my work he was always there for me, and supportive.

“Congratulations, babe. I’m so proud of you.” He beamed, leaning down to kiss me. He flicked open my jacket and looked me over. His eyes darkened. “Fuck, you drive me crazy, Leets. These skimpy little outfits you wear.”

“It’s a suit.” I laughed, glancing down at my pressed jacket, black skirt, and thin, cream silk shirt.

There was nothing sexy about my outfit. Everything about me screamed practical, yet there he was, eyeing me like I was wearing nothing but a bra and panties. My body tingled, an instant response to the positive feedback it was receiving. That was one thing about Mace: he loved to tell me how hot I was, or how badly he wanted to bang me. I wasn’t the kind of girl who needed constant reassurance, but I wasn’t about to pass it up when it was offered.

“Yeah, well, you’d look fucking hot in a hessian bag,” he mumbled, nibbling at my neck, his fingers slipping the top button of my shirt undone. Giggling, I glanced inside the window of the restaurant . . . and right into the eyes of my father.

Shit! Moment ruined.