Will — Give in
Confounding woman. What made her think she could just invade my safe space and show up at the drop of a hat after fleeing dinner? I'm William Hunter, damn her. Yes, damn her to hell, because there it was again. That warm feeling in my chest, this time spreading right throughout my body, leaving my mind a mess as all the blood from it raced to flood my dick.
"Would you like a drink?" I asked, taking my jacket off and scrunching it up in my lap in an attempt to hide my growing problem.
"The water is fine, thanks," she said, placing her hand on my thigh.
She wasn't trying to turn me on. On the contrary, as is usually the case, she was having a meltdown. I tried reasoning with myself, but she was in my suite, vulnerable and maybe a little tipsy. There was no escaping it: given half a chance, I was going to fuck her into next Tuesday. How could I not?
Her sexy, round ass, made especially prominent by her slim waist, and her perky breasts were filling out a yellow jumpsuit that left little to the imagination. This she paired with yellow stilettos that made her endless long legs seem somehow all the more tempting to uncover and explore.
She took a deep breath to center herself and said, "Mr. Hunter, before I say this, I need to ask for your understanding."
Shit, Britney you're the one that doesn't understand.
I got up, concerned that there was little I could do to hide my now rock hard cock while sitting next to her, and went to my bar. She followed, of course, still rambling on about needing my understanding and hoping I wouldn't be too hard on her.
With my back turned to her, as I looked at the selection of liquor before me, my mind threw another doozy at me. So what if I wanted to fuck her? She was in my suite. No risk of interruptions, as only I and now she, I guess, knew the pin to get up here. Unless I opened my stupid mouth and said something to kill the vibe again.
"Mr. Hunter?" she called out to me. "Will?"
Great, she picked now to use my first name. I spun around, liquor forgotten as I made every effort to keep my distance and focus my eyes on hers. There in her grey eyes, dulled by her nervousness and anxiety as she tried to tell me what was on her mind, was the answer to my question.
My chest tightened, seeing her in such a panic. Once again, her being upset made me upset. What the fuck was wrong with me?
"I don't care if you do the ad or not," I said, playing it cool, literally aching to see her at ease. "Having you do it was my idea, but Olive is free to pick someone else."
I surprised myself with the realization that I meant it. After all, if Olivia gave up her obsession with Britney O'Prey, maybe I could too. Britney's vacation was coming to an end in a few days and then that would be that. She would be shipped off back to where she came from and I could finally have some peace. As my chest annoyingly tightened once more, I snuck a peak and found that my boner was gone.
Britney blinked twice, momentarily uncertain of what to make of my last words to her, before she smiled.
"Why?" Britney asked, looking up at me like I'd hung the bloody moon.
"Why what?" I asked, turning back to the bottles.
I definitely needed a drink now. I poured us each a double scotch, then reclaimed my spot on the couch. She of course followed suit.
"No one likes to drink alone," I said, handing Britney's drink to her before taking a sip of my own.
"Why are you so nice to me?" she asked sweetly, as she claimed her glass.
My smirking at her made her bolt upright and set the glass down on the floor.
"I mean, as opposed to other women," she said quickly, then squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lower lip. "Not that I'm saying you aren't nice to other women, I just—"
"Certainly not because of my mother," I said, cutting her off with my own inappropriate remark.
I cleared my throat and tried again.
"You're right, you know. I am the self proclaimed billionaire playboy, after all. I'm not nice to other women, beyond the no strings, one night only sex, of course," I said with a wink, trying to gloss over the awkwardness.
"So, you're saying you sleep with women and then throw them out like yesterday's trash because… they remind you of your mother?" she asked, perplexed.
I choked on my scotch, horrified by her conclusion.
"Good grief, no! Well yes, I mean—"
Watching me scramble for words the way she just had, Britney went into stitches. Unaccustomed to being laughed at or voluntarily bringing up my mother in conversation, I found myself embarrassed and laughed too.
"What I meant was that I like being near you, that's all," I said through a chuckle.
Abruptly, her laughter stopped. Without thinking, I reached out to brush the hair out of her face. Our eyes met.
"I like listening to you, even though most of that entails some form of yelling."
She blushed, offered me a small smile and mouthed sorry.
"I don't understand you," she admitted. "Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I want to believe there's more to you than meets the eye." She cocked her head to the side and asked, "Who shall I blame your commitment phobia, clearly caused by a lack of emotional availability, on if not you?"
I leaned in and nuzzled her neck, brushing my lips against it. Her hands slowly crawled up my back as she lowered herself beneath my advancing body. She stared up at me, unusually calm, her eyes filled with questions.
"If assigning blame elsewhere will put you at ease long enough for me to get between your legs, then by all means, do as I do and blame it on my mother," I said, towering above her, patiently waiting for her to make the next move.
We both burst into a fit of giggles, the air between us filled with potential.
"I can't," she said, sobering up as I gave her light little kisses all over her face and neck.
She took a hold of my head, looked up at me sadly and said, "I've got baggage too, Will."
"Don't care," I said dismissively, claiming her lips with mine.
"There are things you don't know," she murmured into my mouth, ruffling up my shit and hair as I slid my tongue up against hers. "I just can't."
Her body and mind were in conflict as we made out, but mine no longer were. As I slid my tongue further in to keep exploring, I coaxed out a moan of pleasure from her mouth, now fixed hard against mine as we moved in unison.
"Will," she whispered, holding onto my arms as she pulled herself up.
I had one thing on my mind and nothing else. Giving this woman pleasure. As she pulled up against me, I slid my hand up her thigh, slowly sliding it up her jumpsuit until I reached her mound and rubbed gently.
She moaned again, this time through gritted teeth and with pleading eyes. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, watching her arch her back and ease herself back into the pillows of the couch.
My hands roamed up her belly, onto her hips, working quickly to flip her over before she regained her wits.
"Sure you can," I whispered right back.
She yelped as I forced her onto her hands and knees between the cushions of the couch. Then gave me an uncertain look over her shoulder as I pressed my body into hers and rubbed my bulge against her ass.
"See how easy it is—" I cooed against her ear, as one of my hands reached for her breast and the other the zipper of her jumpsuit "—to just give in?"