Arrogant Brit

I cringed, biting my tongue and trying not to give the Captain my what-for. He knew what he was doing. I could practically see the sneer on this face, could practically hear him biting back a chortle in his tone. This was going to be a long day…

“Morning, sweetheart.”

I jumped two feet into the air, smacking my head squarely on the slowly rotating ceiling fan that hung perilously low in the shitty little living room. My head thrummed with pain as it came down into the half-wall, half-counter that separated the efficiency, and my vision dwindled into a tunnel as I hit the floor.

Click… Click… Click…

The sound was aggravating. It wouldn’t stop, just an incessant noise that was keeping me from enjoying this moment of rest. I blinked, staring through hazy eyes at the ceiling, the rotating blades spinning round with a lopsided motion and causing the metal chain that operated the fan to smack against the lighted glass dome.

Click… Click… Click…

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked softly. His face appeared above me, a look of concern painted across it.

The fog was still lifting from my freshly-concussed brain, but already I was identifying things that were wrong with my current situation. For one, I was laying on the dirty-ass floor. For two, my eyes were locked on a rather enormous and exceptionally erect penis. It had been awhile since I’d stopped my little visits to Mr. Hale, and even longer since I’d been with a man. For a brief moment, I considered doing something about that.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, his balls jiggling as he moved.

“Oh, for God’s sakes, put some clothes on!” I shouted, sitting up and rubbing my head. “Were you…? What the hell were you doing over there?” I said, inadvertently glancing back at his erection.

“I… uh…”

“What, you can’t even make it one day? It’s bad enough I have to share a space with you. You’d think you could at least keep your hand off your dick while I’m around!”

My brain was sorting everything out, the cloud lifting as I stared at this man. It didn’t matter that I was practically drooling—that was probably thanks to the brain injury I’d just experienced. The icing on the cake came as he started to laugh.

“No, you don’t get to laugh at this. I’m in here trying to keep you alive. You don’t call me ‘sweetheart,’ and you don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before…”

“You’re sorry? What exactly are you sorry about? Are you sorry about last night? Are you sorry about the men outside, or the way you’re risking this whole operation by telling every private security firm in the region where you’re hiding?”

I was fuming now. I could hear my mother’s voice pouring out of my lips as I chastised this entitled asshole.

“I trust those guys. I’ve used them in the past. Besides, do you think the cops your captain posted in this building would stop the Paddies? Maybe you weren’t paying attention last time Wallace went on trial.”

He still made no attempt to cover himself, his cock swinging side to side as he talked, drawing my eyes again and again like the mechanized sweeping of a metronome.

“Trust me,” he whispered, a grin spreading on his face.

He was doing this on purpose. I wrenched my eyes away from his genuinely delicious-looking body and tried to calm my breathing. “Clothes on. Now. No more secrets from here on out. If you intend to do anything to change the nature of our living arrangement or our security, you need to inform me immediately. And… no doing that,” I said, waving at the God-given gift between his thighs.

“I thought we were only supposed to be pretending? You’re starting to sound like a nagging wife,” Nathan laughed. I hissed, hackles rising as I realized the only way he’d take any of this seriously was if the threat to his livelihood seemed real.

I stood up, crossing the space and wrapping a hand around his most sensitive exposed parts.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, Nathan,” I said, clamping down harder and listening to him yelp. “In here, you’re going to do what I say, or I’m going to throw you to the wolves. Now, put your pants on.”

I released him, turning away and trying desperately to ignore the burning desire inside me. I’d just touched his cock, and even though I’d meant every word of my threat, all I could think about was how the smooth, supple skin of his dick had felt so right in my grasp. The pleasurable pulsations kissing him had inspired in me last night returned with a vengeance, and I grimaced, trying my best to once again ignore them.

What the hell is wrong with you, Sandra? Don’t let this man affect you like this. Hold it together…

I didn’t have a chance to revel in my little show of force. Nathan’s hands swept up behind me, grasping at my wrists and lifting them, throwing my hands against the wall as he pressed against me from behind. I could feel the heat of his dick against my ass and his breath catching just behind my ear.

“Jesus Christ, Sandra. Do you even understand what you do to me?” he whispered, holding my wrists tighter as my palms pressed against the cool wood paneling. His breath swept through the hairs at my nape, sending goosebumps over every inch of my skin. “Women fall over themselves to be with me. Bag the rich guy—that’s the game, isn’t it? They play pretend. They want something. All of them want something. You were always different. You never asked me for anything...”

“I only wanted you.”

“Then why the fuck did you break it off with me?” Nathan said, straining against me.

“Because you were too self-obsessed to give yourself to anyone. All we had was sex and lies. I hated your immaturity. I hated everything about you,” I said, my body practically purring with excitement.

He released my wrists, but I kept my palms firmly planted against the wall, rocking my hips ever so slightly against him and gasping as his fingertips brushed slowly down my sides. He paused at the edge of my breasts, feeling them through the thin t-shirt I’d slept in, teasing the rounded edges before moving on to my hips.

“I’m not that man anymore, Sandra,” he said huskily, his voice strained as he pressed his fingertips into the soft spots at the front of my hips. I could feel the slight tremor of his touch—he was so close to losing control. He pressed harder, and I knew there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers by the afternoon.

I didn’t care. In fact, I realized, I wanted them. I wanted to look into the mirror later and see the remnants of when Nathaniel Hale’s lust had gotten the better of him—and of me. Every time I looked at my hips for the next few days, I wanted to shiver at the reminder of all the dirty, filthy things this man had done to me.

I moaned as he pressed his lips into my neck, gliding them over my flesh. He left scorching trails wherever he went, like he was setting fire to my very being with only the power of his caress. I could feel my pussy pulsing with want—no, with need.

I wanted to hate-fuck Nathaniel Hale into oblivion, and maybe even beyond.

I wanted to take out all my frustrations on this spoiled brat. I wanted to make him want for something, for once, something I’d deny him until he was begging and pleading and broken beneath me. But as much as I wanted that, I wanted him to take me, too, to show me what I’d been missing since the day I left him high and dry in his fancy little castle on the hill.

“You always been so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, biting ever so softly on the slender expanse of muscle between my shoulder and neck. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, my knees trembling as he blew warm air over his teeth marks. “I can’t control myself around you, not since that first time,” he added breathily, his hands forcing my loose flannel bottoms down over my hips, the pants pooling around my ankles as my skin tingled in the cool air.