LAUREN

 

 

 

Midnight had passed and it was the early hours of the morning when we lay on the couch, my back between his legs and my head resting on his bare chest. Tyler twisted and picked up his laptop from the floor. “I want to show you something.” He reached behind him, his body growing taut with the movement, and grabbed his glasses from the table, sliding them over his nose. Resting the computer on my lap, he reached around me, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. His desktop was as organised as the loft. Clearly labelled folders in the corner, symbols neatly stacked in rows. Screens appeared and died until a neat row of logos appeared, all sporting my name.

“What do you think?”

I sat up a little so I could get a better view. “Where did you get these?”

“I designed them.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.” He laughed. “No need to sound so surprised.”

“I’m not. I mean, I am. I didn’t think graphic design was in your wheelhouse.”

“There are a lot of things in my wheelhouse that you don’t know about, Lauren Greer. I’ve spent time in almost every department within the company and picked up a few skills along the way. Design has always appealed to me.” He straightened the angle of the screen. “Do you like them?”

I pulled the laptop closer, examining the images. There were a couple in a flourished font, a few with focus-styled crosshairs, but the one that I liked the most was plain and simple. Just my name scrawled across the page, the finest line beneath it and the word ‘photographer’ spaced out evenly in small print below. 

“I can change anything about them.” His hands floated over the screen. “The name, if you want to go by something else. The font. Graphics. Mix and match.”

“They’re great,” I said. “But I’m not sure I really need a logo.”

“Of course you do. You need to go into business for yourself.”

I laughed. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You’ve got talent, especially with architecture. And this city would be the perfect place to drum up more business.”

“I don’t live here though.”

Tyler shrugged, his chin hooking over my shoulder. “You could.”

“Well, aren’t you the fast mover?”

“I know what I want.”

It was as though those words flicked a switch. Suddenly, I was aware of his scent, the fresh, soapy smell of his still wet hair, the smoothness of his chest, the feel of his thighs pressed against my hips. Lowering the laptop to the ground, I twisted around until I was kneeling between his legs, facing him. He looked glorious with his mussed hair, black-rimmed glasses, bare chest and loose-fitting pants. My hunger to please him scared me. I removed his glasses, folding the arms over on themselves and placing them on the table beside the couch.

“So what other skills do you have in your wheelhouse that I don’t know about?”

Tyler smiled slowly, his legs sliding together as I lifted to straddle him. “All of them,” he said.

“All of them?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He nodded, tipping his chin so his mouth met mine. “All of them,” he repeated, our lips scraping against each other.

I hovered over him, teasing him with the closeness of our bodies, pressing my backside into him and moving seductively until he breathed in deeply and cursed.

“What about construction? Have you got skills in construction?” I asked.

“Yes,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to mine and taking what was his. “Even construction.” He smiled against my mouth and the movement caused my own lips to curve with his. “I know how to hammer a nail.”

“You do?”

Tyler slid his hands up my back and around my sides until they reached the neckline of my t-shirt which he tugged down until my breasts were full and free.

“I do,” he whispered and then he took my nipple into his mouth, sliding further down the couch until I was bent over him, my breasts pressed to his face as he assaulted them with his tongue. The hardness of his cock pressed against me as I ground into him, moving my hips in a circular motion as his attention to my chest intensified. His mouth moved back up my body and he toyed with the hem of my shirt, this time lifting it over my head before crushing his lips back to mine. Squirming beneath me, Tyler lifted his hips until he was able to slide his pants down his legs enough to free himself. Reaching between our bodies, he guided himself into me, groaning with pleasure as I slowly sunk onto him. As I lifted up and down, he simply lay on the couch and watched, hands hovering lightly on my hips. His eyes darkened with desire as they roamed between catching my gaze, falling to my lips, then down to my breasts. His hands moved up the side of my waist, detouring to fondle my breasts before applying pressure to my chest, pushing me, arching me backwards over his beautiful body. He was so large and strong between my legs. His length slipped further inside each time he pushed me back. I braced myself against his legs as his hand travelled down my body, twisting over my flesh until it found the soft wetness between my legs. He massaged me with his thumb as I continued to ride him. The sensation of his fingers at my clit, his cock like steel inside me, and the intensity of his glare as he watched me writhe on top of him built until moans slipped from my lips uncontrollably. Tyler’s fingers moved faster and his other hand snaked up my body, grabbing onto my chin and tilting it downwards.

“Look at me,” he growled.

My eyes fluttered open, but with the sensations floating about my body ready to explode into tiny pieces, my head rolled back and my eyes closed. Tyler jerked my chin towards him again, sitting up so he could watch me closer.

“Look at me,” he said again, his voice filled with a deep rasp.

My eyes locked with his as my breathing increased. Tyler’s hips rocked back and forth, matching my rhythm. Intensity built. Pleasure rose until wave after wave washed over me. I cried out and my body went limp, collapsing from my arched position. The motion of Tyler’s body stopped and he stayed still and hard inside me as I convulsed around him. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, concentration displayed on his features as he struggled not to come. His arms twisted around my back, supporting me as he sat up, still impaled inside. Getting to his knees, he lay me back on the couch and adjusted himself so he was hunched over me. He froze against my entrance, the tip of him teasing.

“Look at me,” he said again, and I lifted my gaze from where I had been watching him, roaming over his toned stomach and chest until I met his eyes. They were dark and hungry. I was tight and tender. He kept his gaze fixed on me as he pushed inside, inch by inch, allowing me to feel the fullness, the hardness of him again. I cried out, gasping when he roughly plunged in the remaining few inches. Then he just lay there, against me, inside me, his forehead pressed to mine, his eyes blurred and dizzying with their closeness.

“I like watching you come,” he whispered. “Your cheeks flame red, your eyes glaze over and your mouth—” He claimed mine hungrily, then tore away. “Words cannot explain what your mouth does to me.”

And then he kissed me gently, grazing my lips with his teeth, teasing my tongue with his own. The tenderness and tightness of my recent release began to relax and I squirmed beneath him, begging for him to move instead of trapping my body with his own. He chuckled at my eagerness and relaxed, pushing me deeper into the couch, allowing his hardness further inside but still not giving me the friction I now ached for. After a few more moments of this tender torture, he rose to his knees, lifting my legs into the air and hooking them over his shoulders. This allowed him deeper access and I gasped once again as he plunged inside, giving me no warning of the power of his thrust. He rocked in and out, slowly at first so I could feel the ridges of his girth, the fullness of his length before he slipped from me, leaving just the tip hovering. Then he began the gentle assault again, sliding himself in slowly before powerfully plunging the last few inches. He repeated this over and over until he unhooked my legs from his shoulders and slid his hands down to the back of my thighs, pressing them wide to my stomach, giving him unfettered access.

His eyes were no longer locked on mine. They were stuck where our bodies joined. And then he slammed into me, his grunts in time with my muffled moans. I tightened. Pleasure built once again.

In feeling me wrap tighter around him, Tyler withdrew himself and bent down to put his mouth where his cock had just been. He lapped at me hungrily and I struggled to breathe as the sensation to come conflicted with the pressure of my thighs pressed roughly to my chest. I bucked, but Tyler held me firmly in place, his tongue teasing and lapping. I strained, my back arching as I exploded once again, flopping back onto the couch as Tyler continued his assault until I went limp. When he rose, he wiped his hand across his mouth, before plunging his hard cock back inside. My limbs were jelly. My body rippled as he pounded into me. His gaze locked on my heaving breasts which jerked with each thrust until he tensed and pushed harder, causing me to whimper as he exploded, the spurts of his come coming out in pulses.

***

I’m not sure how I got from the couch to the bed, but I woke the next morning with the sun streaming in the window dotted with leftover rain, and alone. I expected to turn over and find Tyler beside me, his glorious body stretched between the dark sheets. I wanted the opportunity to study him without his knowledge, but he wasn’t there. I was naked, so I slipped on the t-shirt I wore the night before and headed out to the kitchen, giving a cursory glance around the loft to check for occupants. But neither Tyler nor Jake were there. Gentle jazz music drifted from the sound system and a freshly brewed pot of coffee sat on the thick marble benchtop. Sauntering over to the sound system, I turned the music up louder, searched the fridge for some bacon and eggs, the pantry for some tomatoes and grabbed a frying pan out of the cupboard. I was in the middle of frying the bacon, careful not to let the splatters of fat hit my bare thighs when the elevator groaned and the door opened. I thought it would be Tyler.

It wasn’t.

She had her back to me as she walked in, dry cleaning draped in a clear bag over one shoulder, an oversized gym bag slung over the other. “No need to thank me,” she said, dumping the suit over the edge of the couch. “I’m more than happy to stop mid-workout just to collect your dry-cleaning. No need to thank me at all.” She bent down and started rifling through her gym bag, pulling out clothing and tossing it over her shoulder. She was dressed in yoga pants, a crop top, and a light rain jacket. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on her head, strands falling out to frame her face. She looked like a sports model. Tall. Blonde. Tanned. Undeniably beautiful. She also seemed strangely at home in Tyler’s loft.

“I’ve shifted a few things around for this weekend like you asked, but you’re still going to have to have that meeting with your father and Wilson. They are quite insistent.” High heeled shoes fell to the floor. “Shit. I forgot a towel. Oh, and I’m using your shower.”

She stopped talking and got to her feet, finally turning to face me. She blinked a few times, her eyebrows furrowing together before a brilliant smile spread over her face.

“You must be Lauren.” She walked towards me, hand extended, the wide smile still plastered on her face. I didn’t smile back and shook her hand hesitantly. Her eyes suddenly grew wide. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “This is not what it looks like, I promise.”

“And what does this look like?” I asked, withdrawing my hand from her tight grasp and pulling the hem of my t-shirt down further.

“Like I’m fucking Tyler.”

I blinked at her bluntness.

“I’m not,” she assured me. “I’m his assistant, Sadie.”