Betrayed (Dark Desires 2)

I said, “The reason I wanted to talk to you, Sean, was that I had an idea for a profile for our magazine.”

“What issue were you in?” he asked. He put his arm on the back of the bench behind me. We were inches away from each other. I could feel the heat coming off his body.

“What issue? Oh, well, I never made it into the magazine,” I said, putting on a pouty face.

“So, there are no naked pictures of you on the web for me to pleasure myself to?” His eyebrows flexed. He bit into his bottom lip and gazed at my tits again. “That’s a shame. Maybe you could hook me up with some pics if I gave you my cell number.”

I blinked at his audacity. I couldn’t believe the set of balls on this guy. I hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Um, sure, my number is on the card. Text me and I’ll send you something.”

I did my best to give him a sexy look, which was hard because I had no experience looking sexy. I had no intention of sending him nude selfies, but I was sure Dru could find something online I could use. A woman with big tits and red pubes and her face blurred out…

“Anyway, Sean, I want to do a profile of you for the magazine. Kind of a fly on the wall sort of thing. Follow you around for a few days to see how you live, work, and play; things you do for fun, that sort of thing.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why would you wanna do that?”

“Well, because I think our readers would find it interesting.”

He snorted a laugh. “I highly doubt it. You’ll probably end up boring your readers to death. I play football, I get drunk, I go home. Who the fuck wants to read about that?”

“Lots of people would,” I said. I gazed into his eyes and ran my tongue slowly across my lips. I felt like an utter fool. I sucked at seduction.

The music changed from the driving dance beat to a slow song: George Michaels’ Careless Whispers.

“Oh, fuck, I love this song!” Sean grabbed my hand and literally dragged me onto the dance floor.

“Mr. Donovan… Sean…”

“Come on!”

He didn’t give me time to speak as the dancers parted to let us through to the center of the dancefloor. He twirled me around a couple of times, then jerked me into him.

He put his arm around my waist and pulled me so close it forced the breath from my lungs.

My breasts heaved against his chest. I could feel the length and thickness of his cock pressing into crotch.

He put his cheek next to mine and sighed happily in my ear. He ground his cock into me like a teenage boy at a high school dance. I resisted the urge to grind my hips into his. I wanted to seduce him into an interview. Not fuck him on the dance floor.

He sighed into my ear, “You’re beautiful, Katie Holmes. Even more beautiful that the other one.”

“Thank you,” I said, doing my best to follow his lead, even though I was born with two left feet. I wasn’t much of a dancer and I had never been held so tightly in all my life.

I sort of… liked it.

A lot…

My brain told me to kick him in the balls and get the heck out of there, but my body was telling my brain to just shut the fuck up and let us have a little fun.

It felt good being in his strong arms.

My nipples grew plump against his chest. They ached to be free of the tight bra. They wanted to be squeezed between his fingers… Kissed by his lips.

I could feel heat building in my twat. It started as a tiny spark the moment he took me into his arms. The tiny spark quickly ignited and spread through my body like wildfire. I could feel the heat rising through my stomach, spreading across my breasts, going up my neck, and burning thoughts of running away from my brain.

His lips brushed my ear. His hot breath sent a warm shiver down my spine. A warm stream was flowing between my legs. I could f

eel my juices soaking into my panties. I could smell my tangy scent rising in the air.

I heard him inhale deeply.