Big O Box Set

The movie starts out with an explosion, and only gets louder from there. Turns out it’s one of those comedy-action movies, but not a funny one. After the fourth joke falls flat, Zayne takes to whispering better versions of the lines in my ear. I have to fight cracking up and turning heads across the theater—although, admittedly, there aren’t even too many heads to turn.

“Not your thing, huh?” I ask him with a smirk as he makes fun of the sixth line in a row.

“Are you kidding? I love shitty movies. The worse the better.”

We trade favorite un-recommendations for the next few scenes, but by then, it’s become clear that this movie is just ridiculous.

“Not even MST3k could save this,” I mutter, and Zayne lights up, squeezing my leg.

“You watch that too? I loved that show.”

“Wow, nerd.” I smirk at him.

“You’re one to talk,” he counters.

“Me? I am innately cool.”

“Don’t you work in a publishing house? Pretty sure all publishers have to be nerds. It’s in the job requirement right?”

“Only book nerds though. Not TV show nerds.” I roll my eyes.

“Is that worse?”

“You tell me,” I counter. “You’re the nerd expert here.”

“Tell me, Clove.” His fingers track up my thigh, moving slowly, like he’s turned his hand into a spider and he’s crawling it up the rain spout. His fingers dance closer and closer to my hips. “Would a nerd be able to make you come as many times as I made you scream my name last weekend?”

I can feel my cheeks flush in the dark of the theater. “Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t really tested nerd versus non-nerd’s abilities in the bedroom.”

“I see. So I haven’t fucked you enough times yet, is what I’m hearing.”

I swallow hard. “Well. That’s one way of interpreting that.”

His hand slides along the crease of my thigh, right where it meets my hip. His fingers delve between my legs, pressing hard against the tight fabric of my pencil skirt. I wore this skirt specifically to avoid any sexual attention, but right now, it’s taking all of my self restraint not to tear it off. “I like my interpretation.” He leans in to brush his lips against my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “It gives me a good excuse to fuck you again.”

With that, he pushes up the arm of the seat between us. I barely have time to react before he’s grabbing me with both hands, his fingers clamped around my hipbones. He pulls me across the seats and settles me in his lap. I can already feel the hard press of his cock against my ass, through the fabric of his jeans and my tight skirt.

“We’re in public,” I hiss over my shoulder.

“Do you think any of these people are going to notice?” Zayne gestures around us. The other three people in the theater do look pretty distracted. They’re far away, and their eyes are fixed on the screen. But if one of them turned around now, they’d see me sitting far above the seats, exposed, obvious.

“What if they hear?” I whisper, wriggling against him. But I don’t move off of him. It feels too good, his hard cock digging into my ass, his warm, strong arms still wrapped around my waist.

“You’ll just have to be quiet,” Zayne murmurs against the back of my neck, his nose grazing the soft skin there. “Think you can do that for me, dirty girl? Think you can be quiet while I fuck you until you come?”

I tense and cast another nervous glance around the theater. Can I? Normally I’d say yes, but given the orgasms Zayne has given me recently, I’m not so sure anymore…

“I can try,” I murmur.

He smirks and catches my earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make me inhale sharply. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

He runs both hands up my thighs now, and catches underneath my skirt to pull it with him. He inches the skirt up, up, until my panties are exposed. He keeps going, hiking the skirt around my waist, out of the way, and then drops his hands back down to trace the edges of my lacy thong.

“This is very naughty underwear, Ms. Walker. Entirely inappropriate for being out in public.”

A shiver races down my spine at the sound of his voice, low and sexy as hell. I lean back against him and his chest vibrates against my back when he speaks.

“I’m going to have to relieve you of it.”

“What a shame,” I manage to breathe. Then I arch my hips enough to allow him access to hook his fingers through my thong and tug it down. He pulls it all the way down to my knees and leaves it dangling there, as his hands slide back up to my thighs. He traces the edges of my pussy, along my mound, down my thighs, not quite touching me yet. All the while I can feel his cock digging into my ass, straining against the clasp of his jeans.

He arches his back, and I lean down against him, circling my hips, grinding myself shamelessly against his thick cock.

“Hungry for me?” he asks. My belly tightens.

“Always.”

He dips one finger between my legs and traces my pussy lips lightly. “Mm, I can tell.” He pushes gently against my lips until they part, and his finger slides between them, along my slit. “I love how wet you get for me, Clove.”

“You always make me wet.” I glance over my shoulder at him and circle my hips again for emphasis. “Just like I always make you hard.”

“As a rock,” he agrees.

I reach beneath me to fumble for his pants clasp. Find the button of his jeans and start to undo it without looking.

He catches my wrist with his other hand. “Ah ah. That’s my job.” He nods forward. “You focus on not giving us away,” he says, and with a start, I realize I’ve forgotten where we are. That we’re in public, just a few feet away from other people.

I face front again and suck in a deep breath, trying to concentrate. That gets harder when I feel him unzip his jeans and push them down his legs, his boxers going too, until I can feel his smooth, steel-hard cock bare against my ass.

“Zayne… Is this a good idea?” I whisper.

In response, he grips my hips and positions me above him. His cock lays along the length of my slit now, just between my lips. He’ll have to angle himself to thrust into me, but already I can feel him pulsing with lust, and my pussy tightening in response. Fuck. I can’t say no, not now. I want him too much. I always want him, no matter where we are, but here…

I cast another worried look around the theater. Fuck. We’re so exposed. If anyone looks back…

But there’s something hot about that. About being so exposed, so vulnerable. So close to other people in public…

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you just got wetter,” Zayne murmurs in my ear.

I cast him a sharp glare over my shoulder. “Well someone is torturing me.”

“Torturing you, hmm? That sounds terrible.”

I swallow with difficulty. “Maybe.”

“I see. Is this terrible, then?” He pushes me up off his lap a little, angles his hips and reaches down with one hand to position himself, so the tip of his cock is between my pussy lips, poised at my entrance. One small thrust up and he’ll be inside me. Hell, if I just sit back against him, it’ll force him into me. I start to lean back, but he stops me, one hand around my waist, the other on my ass, suspending me above him.

“Very terrible,” I answer, my voice twisted with frustration.

“What’s so terrible about it exactly?”

“The teasing,” I hiss back almost immediately.

“Ah. So you don’t want me to fuck you right here in public, is that it?”

“I… That…” I clamp my mouth shut, annoyed. Because of course, now I want him to. Damn him.

“I could stop.” He eases back into his seat, drawing his cock away from me.

“No, don’t,” I gasp, almost too loud. Someone in the front row turns their head a little, glances over their shoulder. Not long enough to realize I’m out of my seat, sharing a seat with someone else. Just enough to express their

annoyance.

Shit.

I’m going to have to be a lot quieter.