Savage

Sage

“That motherfucker!”

That was all Ronnie kept saying over and over when we met up at the outdoor mall. Shopping was one of our favorite pastimes. And a good distraction from my chaos.

Don’t get me wrong. I accepted full responsibility for my unprofessional behavior, but what kind of madman gives his employee a monster orgasm, then takes her job?

Fucking Heinrich…

Think you can jerk me around just because you've got…

Charming eyes.

An irresistible scent.

The body of a Greek god.

A booming voice.

A massive cock.

Wicked style.

Cool demeanor.

A “B” for billionaire after your last name.

FUCK! I needed to find a bathroom and change thongs. Now that I had Mr. Heinrich on my mind, I had started carrying spares.

“That motherfucker!” Ronnie said…yet again.

“Ron! You’ve kicked this dead horse around the block a few times. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well…you don’t know that I’m getting married, do you?” she asked, dropping a bomb on me.

“WHAT?”

“And I’m moving to London.”

“REALLY?”

“Yeah."

My jaw hit the floor.

“My mom just signed the agreement for my arranged marriage. I am going back to London to be married and live with my husband, to have the grandchildren that I should have given her years ago, she told me.”

“Girl, your mom is scary.”

“She makes Dracula look like Big Bird,” Ronnie agreed.

“So?! Who is he? What the hell? How have I not known about this? Give me the scoop.”

“You remember that guy I told you I lost my virginity to in London?”

“The Arab?”

“Yeah, weeeelll, I’ve sorta been betrothed to him since I was five. The only thing we have in common is that we speak Punjabi and have an unquenchable thirst for sex.”

“Punjabi and sex. What more do you need?” I said, clowning around.

“Exactly.”

Ronnie leaned in. “I know this sounds stupid, but it’s not. After my mum broke the news to me, I had a dream about Rama and Sita telling me the importance of my marriage. Initially, I had cussed her and the ancestors out. I’m a modern woman. I can marry who I damn well please. But then I met Jav and…”

“Jav? Is he Hindu, too?”

“He's Muslim, actually. Guess my parents thought opposites might attract.”

Knowing Ronnie’s mom, this sounded like a recipe for disaster, but I just shrugged and let her continue.

"He's not like devout or anything, though. I mean, I'm pretty sure Allah wouldn't condone any of the wild shit he did to me in the bedroom. And you should hear the way he talks…"

“Come again?” I asked, snorting.

“When Jav talks dirty to me, it’s like...I can feel the force of his words vibrating through me, pulling at my clit before he even touches it. It's mind-blowing. If every Muslim man can do that, I might just convert.”

“Jav, sweet Jav,” I said, impressed. “That can’t be his full name, right?”

“Ha. Try Oded Dastaan Javed Khan. Which will make me...Mrs. Veronica Ophelia Khan. Talk about a mouthful.”

“Damn, Ronnie, four names? Didn’t his parents like him?”

Ronnie gave me the evil eye.

“Ronnie and Jav!” I exclaimed with a grin. “Got a nice ring to it.”

***

We were stepping out of a shop, bags bursting with dresses and shoes galore, when I accidentally bumped into someone.

“Ouch! I’m sor—” I started and stopped, surprised to see who it was.

He turned and lifted an eyebrow, smiling.

Brandon Wong.

“Damn it! What the hell are you doing here, Wong?”

The guy was Asian, six feet two, and hot as hell. Oh, and we had history by the way.

“Good to see you too, Sage,” he purred.

I’d always found his voice a bit too effeminate for my liking, but his masculine frame more than made up for that. Anyway, it was good to see a man that wasn’t my ex-boss.

Beside Wong was his friend Bobby. I saw from the way he was eyeing Ronnie up and down that he was about to hit on her.

Ronnie wasn’t feeling it. Maybe because she was newly betrothed.

“Let’s go,” she said.

But before she could grab me, Wong slid his arm through mine and started walking with me down the block.

“Come on,” he said. “We can catch up real quick, can’t we, babe? How long has it been?”

“I’m not your babe. And I haven’t been counting the days.”

He placed a hand on my waist and drew me against him.

“I miss you. Don’t act like you don’t miss me.”

He began moving his hand to my ass and gripped it hard. I couldn’t lie...

I was turned on, and he knew it.

We were together for the majority of my college years, and back then, I couldn’t get enough of him. He was my sexual drug, and I was addicted.

We would fuck everywhere that wasn’t occupied by someone, and I loved the adventure and the freakiness of it all. But one day I grew up and realized that it was just sex and nothing more. It was unfulfilling, and it had to end.

It wasn’t easy ending it, because we would just end up in each other’s beds. So I just decided to distance myself from him by completely cutting him off.

I changed my number, my address, and my job.

The job that I’d just lost.

But being back in his warm arms now, feeling vulnerable while his erection rubbed against my lower abdomen, was weakening my resolve.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I can’t.”

I pushed on his chest a little and took two deep breaths. In, out. In, out.

He caught my wrist, pulling it up to his lips and kissing the inside of it. He knew it was my weak spot.

It always worked.

“Okay,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder at Ronnie and Bobby. “If we can make it fast.”

We were inside Banana Republic and about to sneak into a changing room when my phone buzzed.

Wong and I wasted no time. We pretended to be perusing the clothes. Then, when the clerks weren’t looking, we snuck into a changing room.

God, had I missed this.

He ripped my blouse off. Literally ripped it. Thank God it wasn’t anything I treasured.

His lips crashed against mine. His hands roamed everywhere on my body.

We had no time for foreplay.

He lifted me up against the wall, pulled my jeans down roughly, and shoved himself inside me. He groaned deep until his head fell back.

I nearly screamed, and he threw a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. We didn’t want to get caught.

It was a delicious, painful pleasure. I clung to his back, digging deeply into his flesh. I smelled the tangy metallic evidence that I drew blood.

I pulled my legs up and wrapped them around him, giving him more access.

“Fuck,” was all I heard him whisper.

His movements were hard, pulling out of me then ramming into me the next second. Burying himself within my fleshy folds.

He was groaning while I was moaning. He was hitting my clit when he pressed into me.

“Fuck me hard,” I begged into his ear.

He went from thrusting to slamming, accommodating my request.

“Don’t stop!” I said, half screaming again.

My release was near. I could feel it. Wong buried his right hand in my dark locks and pulled. I screamed again—this time full-throated, not giving a damn who heard—while my back arched, driving him deeper inside me as my pussy muscles tightened even more around him.

I began to shake as my orgasm took over.

Then it happened. With a grunt, I felt Wong’s cock grow a little inside me until he released, bathing my cervix with his hot cum.

His movement slowed until it stopped completely.

He lowered me down. We both quickly pulled up our pants and, after checking the mirror, stepped out of the changing room.

Everyone in the store was staring.

With a shared giggle, we both ran out as fast as our feet could take us, still enraptured in the high of orgasm.

It was just what I’d needed—getting off and getting my mind off of Mr. Heinrich at the exact same time.

Who knew? Maybe I’d see Wong again…

***

When the week ended, I felt relaxed, refreshed, and rejuvenated. I’d given Ronnie the play-by-play of my sexual walk down memory lane with Wong.

And while she was amused, I think she was mostly concerned about what I was going to do next. Now that I was jobless, that was.

Here and there, the image of Mr. Heinrich would invade my mind. His piercing blue eyes, his German accent, the way his fingers felt inside me.

Even though we hadn’t even fucked, it still was somehow more memorable than the fun I’d had with Wong.

But I needed to shake it off.

Today was a brand-new day.

I had an interview, and I was ready for this. The new firm had called me as soon as I’d been laid off.

I guess someone out there had put in a good word for me. Now it felt like I could pick up where I’d left off, engrossing myself with work.

I wore one of the tasteful little black dresses I’d bought with Ronnie. I swung by Wong’s for another quickie—for luck—then rushed out to grab a bite to eat. I had two hours to prepare for the interview.

Luckily, there was a café around the corner from the new firm, so I took a seat there.

Which was when I saw him. Stepping into the café as if he knew I’d be there was my ex-boss. Mr. Heinrich.

What.

The.

Fuck.

I quickly tried to hold up my menu to block my face, but it was of no use.

A chair skidded as I heard someone sit down across from me. Knowing exactly who it was, I lowered the menu.

He had the same damn cocky smirk on his face, making him look that much sexier.

But I wasn’t going to be turned on right now. Not by the man who’d fired me, are you kidding? Not when I was about to step into the interview of a lifetime.

But before I could stop him, Mr. Heinrich grabbed my hand and gave it a kiss. The gall of this man.

“Guten Morgen, Sage,” he said. “It’s been too long.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to get away from him. All I knew in that moment was that I hated this man with every fiber of my being.

Pulling my hand away, I decided to use the same word that had gotten me fired in the first place.

“Guten go fuck yourself, Mr. Heinrich.”

But as his smirk grew wider, I knew that wasn’t going to get me out of this so easily.