My phone goes off, but I don't answer it. Most likely it's Nolan, wanting to know why I hung up on him. He maybe has some event or two he wants us to hit up. It never gets old for him, us being twins. It's an easy ice-breaker with girls, a cute conversation piece with clients and new acquaintances. A few times a year, he'll even cut his hair like mine so that we can switch places, just to mess with people.
OK, it can be a bit funny, and a bit of comic relief would help take my mind off it. How the two sides of Kyra's dark, sleek hair are like two arrows pointing straight to her breasts. Or how she carries herself differently. Is she really as different as it seems, or is this all part of her I'm-a-lawyer-don't-fuck-with-me persona?
I pull into my building's underground parking lot with a shake of my head. It doesn't matter. I'll only be seeing her in a professional capacity.
But as the elevator whizzes up to my penthouse suite, she won't get out of my head. In the mirror, I see that pretty face crumple with my cock inside her. That angry sneer slacken as she moans my name.
Ding
I scowl, hurrying out of the elevator and into my apartment.
Fuck. So much for getting Kyra out of my head. Looks like I'll have to get her out of my system entirely.
I roll my eyes when I realize that I'm seriously considering Nolan's 'theory', if you can even call it that. He's convinced it works, though.
Whenever he has a major crush on a girl or just can't get her out of his head, he jerks off to her. Apparently, that's enough to do it for him - clear his mind, 'free' him, whatever. He still finds her hot, obviously, but he 'gets it out of his system'. Or so he claims.
Usually, I'm able to get a girl out of my system by actually fucking her, but considering the circumstances... this will have to do.
In the shower, I turn the shower head on high so that the hot droplets splatter my body, easing my tired muscles. That's another thing that could help clear my mind - the gym, the wall. Not now, though. I need her gone - now.
But before that, I need to be inside her.
I can see it now: the judge gone, everyone else gone - just the two of us. The two of us and an empty courtroom, and everything I want to do to her.
She'd try to say it again, "I hate you," but I'd beat her to it. My kiss would slam the words right out of her mouth, my tongue would lap the thought right out of her head.
Her body would give in how it wanted to.
Maybe at first, she'd rip away, still glaring, opening her mouth to snap something else.
Another kiss would shut up those pretty lips.
I'd cup each breast and enjoy them through her tight work shirt. She'd groan.
And now I have her in my arms, carrying her over to the podium. Pressing her into it, our lips twisting together. Fuck it's good. So fucking good.
Her skin is just as silky as I remember. Her lips move on mine with abandon, following my lead. She tastes like victory and strawberries. Fuck yeah.
Her work shirt undoes easily and underneath is a black dominatrix style X-bra. Our eyes meet. Hers are mocking, still sneering.
"Fuck you," she says.
I slam my lips to hers again, press myself into her. Pulling away, enjoying the want battling the hate on her face, I say, "Fuck you."
And then we do.
Lips re-meet, fingers rip at each other, shedding the layers between us. Her skin is creamy, pale, soft, glorious. It's all so fast and hot that I hardly notice until my cock slips inside her.
Everything slackens. Fucking. Yeah. Just there. Just now.
She's wet and responsive as fuck and clasping on me. I don't even need to move, it's so good. It. This. Us. Her. Yeah.
Fucking Kyra Masterson.
And then, suddenly, I can't take it anymore. Just being inside of her isn't enough for me.
I slam into her again, enjoying how her face crumples. Another slam, and she groans.
I grunt. It feels fucking amazing.
In and out. Deep and deeper. More. More. More.
My arms around her, I kiss her hard and good.
I turn her around, press her into the podium, ram her so good and hard it starts shaking. Her groans echo through the room.
"That's it," I growl.
Half-gasping, she snarls, "I still hate you, you know."
I laugh. "Good."
And then I ram her for all I'm worth. Let her hate me. I'll still have her screaming my name by the time this is over.
"Yes, yes!" she's groaning, shaking all over.
"I want to hear it," I rasp into her ear as I drill her. "Say my name."