Hollywood Bad Boys Club: Book 2: Mason by Alexis Adaire

me mercilessly.
    I submit to the little fantasy and am surprised to feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, seemingly out of nowhere. Bobby gently licks away while Stark practically assaults me. My body begins to quiver. In my mind, Stark flips me over, then pulls me up by my waist until I’m on my hands and knees. He grabs my hips and rams his cock into me, then pounds away, and for a split second it actually seems real. Then my brain seems to explode as I momentarily lose all sense of which man I’m actually with. I cry out loudly and grab Bobby’s head with both hands, pressing his mouth tightly against me as wave after massive wave crashes over me.
    The orgasm seems to last forever and my body is left tingling all over in ecstasy. I eventually release Bobby and he slides up the sheets till he’s next to me. We lie there for maybe thirty seconds before I climb out of bed and hand him his underwear and pants.
    “Have I earned the right to talk?” he asks with a grin.
    “Yes,” I say, forcing a smile. “But it’s time to go home. Get dressed.”
    I slip my robe on and wait while he dresses.
    “That was pretty intense,” he says as he fumbles with his socks.
    “Maybe you shouldn’t talk after all, Bobby. Let’s both keep quiet for now.”
    When he’s finished dressing, I walk him to the door. He takes me in his arms and hugs me, then presses his lips to mine. His face smells like my juices, and I make sure the kiss is quick and doesn’t involve tongues. Still abiding by my no-talk rule, he holds his hand to his ear, indicating he’ll give me a call. I smile and nod, trying not to look overly enthusiastic about it.
    Returning to my bedroom, I’m still wondering how on earth I reached the point where I felt such an urgent desire to enlist Bobby’s carnal assistance. What came over me? Could it really have been my interaction with Stark? That’s just plain weird.
    I climb under the covers and turn off my lamp. My body feels blissfully relaxed from that huge orgasm. I think about Bobby’s mediocre oral sex skills and am absolutely shocked that he was able to get me off like that. He somehow managed to guide me to an exceptional orgasm.
    Then I remember the thoughts that were playing in my head while Bobby tried to locate my clit. Out of nowhere, I again feel Stark’s hands on my hips, his cock hammering inside of me from behind. When I feel that familiar warmth between my legs, I realize Bobby had very little to do with it.
    Mason Stark gave me that orgasm.
    Sex with Stark might not be the worst thing in the world. After all, he’s a very sexy man. But the idea of being his sex slave – whatever that entails — for a week is more than a little disturbing.
    Luckily, I won’t have to, because there’s no way I lose that bet.

7
    Mason
    A nother week passes and I don’t hear shit from Claire. I sit in my office, the afternoon light filtering through the window, and for the billionth time think about our bet. Although I’m confident in my position, something about this is bugging me.
    Why would Claire agree to such a bet if she weren’t equally confident about her chances of winning?
    We may have had a hot little unspoken moment there at Pastiche, but it was likely due to the excitement of a face-to-face business confrontation. All that talk about fucking each other led us to a weird place, but that definitely wasn’t real. Claire and I have never even shared a meal, much less shown any romantic or sexual interest in each other. We’re business rivals, for fuck’s sake.
    That said, I chose my terms of the bet because I honestly would love fucking her. She’s gorgeous and has a tight little body, and something tells me she would be great in bed. Sure, I get that same feeling about many women, but based on the chemistry we had the night we made the bet, I’m guessing we’d both have an amazing week.
    Regardless, I’m sure Claire only made that bet because she’s convinced she can win. If she wanted to