26

Lexi
“What do you think of this one?” I prance out of the dressing cubicle in a fitted purple miniskirt, wide black belt and black cap-sleeved top that makes my boobs look amazing.
Bobby lounges on one of the benches in the dressing room, looking casually elegant in one of his designer suits. Shopping is foreplay, and I’m about two seconds away from dragging him into a cubicle and dropping to my knees to suck his cock because he bought everything I showed the slightest interest in, and more.
He gives me a heavy-lidded gaze. “I think, if I were God, I would ordain that this song be playing every time you entered into my visual field in a short skirt.”
I laugh, listening to hear what song played on the mall speakers. It’s “Sex and Candy” by Marcy Playground.
“Sweetheart, those legs ought to be illegal. In fact,” he motions to my outfit. “We’ll take those clothes, but you are not wearing them to your interview.”
“Oh yeah?” I strut slowly to where he sits. “What am I wearing to the interview?”
He smirks. “I’m not sure, but I think you already have something in mind. You just keep dragging me around to turn me on with your dress up show.”
I laugh. “I can’t get anything by you, can I?” At least he didn’t accuse me of working him for the clothes, which was also true, and I know he understands that perfectly.
“All right, baby, I’m almost out of cash.” He pulls out three hundred dollar bills. “Where do you want to spend these?”
“Shoe store,” I say without hesitation. I gesture at my outfit. “Should I get these?”
“Yes.” He rakes his gaze up and down me appreciatively. “I thought I already said so.”
“Sorry, boss.” I wink as I turn to strut back to the cubicle and change out of the clothes.
In the shoe department, I pick out a pair of wedge sandals and a pair of strappy platform heels. “How much is left?” I smile like a spoiled child after he pays for the clothes and shoes.
“Sixty bucks.” He folds the bills and slides them into my bra. “But I’m all shopped out. Let’s go, bambina.”
“Okay, boss.” I traipse beside him, giddy with the new purchases and the attention of my lover. I hook my arm through his. “May I make you dinner?”
He looks down at me, thoughtfully. When he hesitates, I brace against feeling rejected, but then he says, “Sure.”
We walk to his car, but he hesitates when he unlocks the door. “Why don’t you drive?”
“What?”
“Have you driven at all since your accident?”
“No,” I admit. My heart is already beating faster at the thought of it. It’s true I wasn’t scared riding in his car as a passenger today, but that doesn’t mean I won’t freak out if I get behind a wheel.
“Get in.” He waves me toward the driver’s seat. “I want you to drive. Let’s test your EMDR session.”
I climb in, feeling shaky. I adjust the seat and mirrors, trying to get everything just perfect, as if it would make driving easier. Taking a deep breath, I start the Porsche, check for cars in the mirror and pull out into the stream of traffic. Neither of us speak for the next ten minutes as I navigate my way through the city streets, but after a while, I relax my hands on the steering wheel.
I nod. “It’s okay,” I say on an exhale. “I’m doing okay.”
I experience no panic, and with each mile I drive, it gets easier. By the time I pull into the underground parking garage at my building, I feel more confident about driving. I find a parking spot and turn off the car, turning to grin at Bobby. “Just like riding a bike,” I declare.
“Good job, baby. I’m proud of you.”
Pleasure blooms in my chest at his praise. I take his arm feeling half-giddy with affection.
When we arrive at the apartment, he follows me into the kitchen. “May I help?”
“Do you cook?” It’s weird how little I know about the man who occupies so many of my thoughts.
He grins. “I’m not bad in a kitchen. Better on a grill.”
My heart pinches. These glimpses of domesticity cause me pain. God, am I starting to wish for the full deal? For everything? I didn’t go out looking to get married or settle down. Bobby’s just supposed to be a job.
I pull some white roughy fillets out of the freezer and pop them in a bowl of warm water to thaw. “Actually, I have this covered. You could just set the table?”
“Sure thing,” He empties his pockets onto the countertop before taking out placemats and napkins.
The phone on the counter buzzes, and I reach for it automatically, picking it up to check the text message. Only when I read the words What’s the latest with the Feds? do I realize it’s not my phone, and I definitely shouldn’t have looked.
“What are you doing?” The ice in Bobby’s tone turns me cold. He stands in the kitchen doorway, his gaze sharp, expression rigid. Jesus. Does he think I’m spying?
I drop the phone like a hot potato. “Oh God.” I shake my hands as if to remove all traces of his phone from them. “I didn’t- I wasn’t-”
He steps forward, looking every inch the dangerous mobster. His face is dark, but the stunned expression conveys something more-betrayal.
A spike of genuine terror shoots through me. Fuck. He actually thinks I’m an informer, or a rat or whatever they call them.
Bobby
The color drains from Lexi’s face. “I thought it was my phone! It beeped, and I just picked it up to check the message. We have the same phones and the same beeps.”
I blow out my breath. Is she telling the truth? She certainly looks terrified. But a snitch who got caught would be scared.
Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m not a rat or a Fed. I’m not wearing a wire, I swear to you.”
I scrub a hand across my face. Cristo. This shit with the Feds is getting to me. I definitely didn’t get enough sleep last night.
Of course, Lexi’s not a rat. I would’ve known if there was something off about her. I have excellent instincts about people. My muscles loosen.
“Okay. It’s okay, baby. I’m sorry I overreacted.” I pull her into my arms. She’s trembling, which makes me feel like a stronzo for barking at her. I cup the back of her head to angle her face to mine and give her a hard kiss. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She lets out a relieved laugh. “You scared the crap out of me.”
I kiss her forehead, her temple.
Because I’m a sick fuck, her trembling relief makes my dick thicken in my trousers. I pick up her wrists, turning her slowly to face the counter. Pressing her hands down on the granite, I pull up her skirt and lower her panties. “But snooping isn’t allowed, Lexi.” I reach for a wooden spoon.
She whimpers but pushes her ass out, offering it to me.
I pepper her backside lightly with spanks, and she holds still, gasping, but not squirming. Seeing the bottle of olive oil standing on the counter, I reach for it, pouring a little in my palm. I rub it over her cheeks, then slap, enjoying the stingy-ness the oil helps to impart. I dip my finger in the oil and slide it between her cheeks, circling her anus.
“I think you deserve a little back door punishment.” I press my finger in.
“Oh God,” she moans.
“That’s right, bambina. This is what happens to this beautiful ass of yours when you’ve been bad.” I plunge my finger into the knuckle, then withdraw it and repeat the action.
“Ohhh…”
With my free hand, I spank the back of her thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl and take it?” I spank her again. My thumb swipes between her legs, and I find her dripping wet.
“You’re the boss.” She looks over her shoulder at me with heat in her azure gaze.
“That’s right, pretty girl.” I ease my finger out and take her elbow to pull her toward the living room. I lead her to the bolstered arm of the sofa. “Bend over, bambi.”
She folds her torso down, so her bare ass is raised and exposed.
“Do not move from this position.” I go to the kitchen to retrieve the olive oil, which I liberally use on her anus and my shaft, while she shivers in anticipation. I rub the head of my cock against her entrance and press. She tightens against the intrusion.
“Open for me, Lex,” I encourage. “Push back like you’re bearing down.”
She obeys immediately, seemingly as eager for this as I am. Or maybe she’s just eager to please. Either way, she’s ready for me.
I ease into her, giving her time to get used to my girth and the unusual invasion. She pants and moans, but remains perfectly still, allowing me to penetrate, centimeter by centimeter. Reaching around the front, I tease her clit, flicking it as I begin to withdraw and press in again.
“Oh God!” I moan.
“That’s right, beautiful. You’re taking it in the ass tonight.” I may sound like an asshole, but I maintain the utmost care in keeping my in and out strokes gliding smoothly, wanting it to be a good experience for her.
“Bobby,” she whimpers.
“That’s it, baby. You’re taking it like a good girl.”
“Please?” she begs.
“Please what, baby?”
“Please, please, please.” She thrashes her head from side to side.
I increase my speed, still being careful to keep my thrusts direct. She presses her fingers over mine, shoving them inside her pussy. I fingerfuck her, and she lets out a high-pitched cry that goes on and on until it draws a climax from me. I keep my fingers moving inside her as I press my cock deep in her ass and come.
After I spend, I ease out, withdrawing my fingers and gently stroking over her wet pussy. I cover her body with mine, wrapping my free arm around her torso and kissing her neck as I pull her panties back up.
“Don’t move, baby.” I get up to wash up in the bathroom. I return with a wet washcloth, which I use to clean her before pulling up her panties and smoothing down her skirt. “Come here.” I lift her torso and turn her to face me. She falls into my arms, and I sense her trembling. I kiss the top of her head and hold her for a moment, then scoop her into my arms and carry her to the sofa, where I sit with her cradled in my lap. I grab the soft throw blanket from the back of the sofa and wrap her in it.
“Are you okay?”
She nods against my shoulder.
“Did you get off?”
She lifts her head. “Yes. Well, I feel like I did. Except I sort of skipped the part where my muscles tighten up. I was afraid it would hurt to clench my… um… anus,” she admits.
I smile. “Maybe it would have.”
“But you more than satisfied me.”
I grin. “Good.”
She holds my gaze. “You really thought I was a snitch there for a minute, didn’t you?”
“No, bambi.” I shake my head, not wanting to go down this road with her. “Your behavior surprised me until you explained it.”
“But you thought I was an informer, didn’t you?” she presses. “I saw the look on your face.”
I study her. “I just couldn’t understand why you would snoop, that’s all.”
“What would you have done if I didn’t explain?”
“Lex,” I admonish. “Let’s not go there. I trust you. I will buy you a new phone case, so you don’t get confused again.”
She continues to observe me without speaking.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I truly am.”
She shivers and snuggles against me. “You did. Just for a minute, though.”