Pansy Nicholas hit “end” on her cell phone. Grrrr! That man made her crazy. She had dialed the loft to let Billie Crockett and the rest of the members of Dark Place, Logan Hawk’s band, know what was going on. Logan had his apartment, office, and music studio there, and the band, Dark Place, had their rehearsal and recording space. She got it. Billie Crockett was Logan’s best friend, and the guys were all like brothers, only closer. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. And he makes my panties wet. How aggravating is that? Why? He was so not her type. Tight jeans and black t-shirts were all he seemed to wear, and she was a fashion designer with her own—albeit struggling—label.
Pansy adored Logan Hawk for the difference he had made in her best friend Melodie’s life, and the other guys in the band were great. Big teasers, but great. But Billie Crockett just made her nuts and had from the first time they had met. Billie was the backup vocalist of Dark Place and played keyboard and occasional backup guitar. He was tall and wiry with a mop of dark curls and soulful brown eyes that he used shamelessly. He was a smart-ass wise-guy who she thought took advantage of Logan’s good nature. And he was cocky in more ways than one. The one time they had danced together at a club she had felt his hard-on rubbing against her belly through both their jeans. Yes, she knew it was a biological reaction, but still it made her nervous and twitchy. Pansy was no shrinking violet. She held her own in the tough environment of the fashion industry and the New York Garment District after all. But Billie Crocket…
Pansy pulled the pencil out of her loose and messy light brown and blonde streaked top-knot and picked up her ever-present sketch pad. She turned the page and did a quick pencil sketch of Billie Crockett. What was it about him that got to her even though she really did not like him?
* * * *
The Loft, Stranahan Shoe Factory Building, Tribeca Section of New York, New York, Saturday early evening, December 12, 2015
Billie Crockett put the phone down and turned to the other guys in the band. “Karin Sanders grabbed Melodie at the shopping mall this afternoon and took off with her. That sheriff’s detective fiancé of Logan’s friend managed to retrieve her. Karin is in lock down in the psyche ward of the hospital and going to be charged with assault and kidnapping and whatever.”
“So, Mel’s okay? Is this shit finally over?” Keith Ransom ran his hands through his short, spiked blond hair and blinked back tears in his hazel eyes. He played second guitar and was of medium height and muscular. He and Melodie were particularly close. What she had gone through after having her face slashed by a derelict in front of her art gallery a couple of years ago had really touched him, not that all of the guys didn’t adore her like a sister. She was marrying their best friend and the leader of the band, and they were happy for both Logan and Melodie. They had all gone through the agony of the attack with Logan who had witnessed it and had saved Melodie from bleeding out on the sidewalk while he waited for the ambulance to arrive.
“Yeah. It’s all over, but I’m sure there will have to be a competency hearing or something before they lock her up and throw away the key. At least I hope they throw it away. In any event, Karin’s going to be locked up for a long time. Thank God.”
“Is Pansy all right? When did all this happen?” Tyler Easton was the drummer and multi-instrumentalist, playing xylophone, cymbals, and tambourine. He was tall and well-built with red hair and green eyes, and was intense and the quietest member of the band despite the racket he made on the drums.
“Pansy is fine. You know she’s pretty tough and no-nonsense.” He frowned. “That woman makes the palm of my hand itch. I’d like to turn her over my knee and spank her nice round butt.”
Guy Penrod, their bass guitar and sax and trumpet, who was tall, with a cut physique, classically handsome features and blue eyes that drove the girls crazy, glanced down at the front of Billie’s jeans. “Right. Have you ever met a woman you didn’t want to spank?”
“No, but that’s beside the point. Pansy Nicholas makes me nuts.”
“You’re a dog, Crockett,” Guy said.
“Woof, and I want to chase that Pussy.”
Guy shook his head and continued. “So, are Logan and Mel coming home now?”
“No. They’ll be back after the cruise to Bermuda aboard that BDSM boat owned by Jamie Devereau, the Le Club guy.”
“Good. I guess they can both use the time to come down and relax after all that shit with Karin.”
Pansy kicked off her boots, and reached for the snap at his waist band. She lowered his zipper and pushed his jeans down. Ummm, commando. For some reason that was so sexy. His big cock was hard and proud. It was beautiful with a full mushroom head and a prominent vein on the underside, and his balls were full and hard as well. Billie almost fell on the bed as he hastened to kick out of his boots and pants legs.
She ran her hands down over his washboard abs before she pushed the shirt off his shoulders. She grinned at him. “Don’t think I’m going to forget about our interrupted conversation.”
“Want to bet?” He pulled her down next to him on the bed and ran his hands down over her chest until he had captured her breasts. He began to lick and suck one and then the other. “This is a feast. I don’t know what to kiss and suck first. I guess I’ll have to start at the top and taste my way down your body until I get to the prize. You are even more beautiful than I thought you would be. And believe me, I had great expectations.” His lips were gliding down the side of her neck leaving goose flesh behind them.
“You’re quite beautiful yourself, Billie Crockett.” Oh, boy. She was going to enjoy every minute of this. Her pussy was starting to vibrate in anticipation. Pansy had known from the beginning that Billie, with his bad boy vibe and smart-ass sense of humor, had the potential to rock her world. She was starting to teeter on the edge. He pushed her back on the bed and began to kiss and lick his way down her abdomen toward her pussy. The anticipation was killing her. He was certainly taking his time.
Pansy started to raise her hips to encourage him. He held her hands above her head and whispered, “Slow down, Pansy. Keep still. You can’t rush me. I’ve been waiting too long for this, and I plan to enjoy every moment to the fullest.” He went back to her breasts. It was all she could do to obey and stay still. He flicked his rough tongue over her nipples, and she wanted to scream. He anchored her lower body with one leg between her thighs. “We’re not in the dungeon, but we are going to do this my way.”
“Just so long as we do it and soon.” He reached down and smacked her thigh. “Ouch.”
“Who is in charge here?”
“You are, just hurry.”
He laughed. “I can see I am going to have to teach you patience. Pleasure delayed is pleasure increased by anticipation three-fold. Now, spread your thighs for me. I want to taste that sweet cream I can smell.” She did as directed, and he immediately began exploring her pussy with his talented fingers. She had watched his beautiful hands on the keyboard many times and wondered what they would feel like on her body. Finally he plunged two fingers between her wet folds. She rose to meet him, and he immediately withdrew. “Be still. Every time you move, I will stop what I’m doing. You are not to come until I give you my permission.”
Oh, God. I don’t know if I can do this. The ache between her legs was making her twitchy. She wanted to ride his thigh, but she knew he wouldn’t allow it. This was torture.
“You will learn that ordering a Dom to do something is likely to get you just the opposite.” She moaned. How did Melodie stand this? She felt like she was going to spontaneously combust. Pansy forced herself to take a deep breath and begin counting to one hundred in her head. When she got to one hundred she started again. All the while, Billie was torturing her with his fingers. Finally she felt his hot breath on her pussy. She thought she might cry with relief. She spread her legs wider and prayed he was going to use his tongue. He blew softly on her labia. Pansy couldn’t stay still. She wanted to scream. She needed to clamp her legs shut, but now they were held apart by his wide shoulders, and he held her hands tight at her sides. She was at his mercy. Billie Crockett gave new meaning to the word ‘foreplay.’ Billie continued the slow torture.
Finally she said, “Billie, please. I can’t wait.”
“Call me Sir.”
“What?” She was confused. Her body was coming apart at the seams, and her mind was not at its clear, sharp, best. What was he talking about?
“Call me Sir and ask again nicely.”
“See, that’s not so hard. What do you want me to do to you, Pansy?”
“Jesus, Billie. I want you to fuck me.”
“No, that’s okay. Calling me Sir will be sufficient. Say it again.” Oh, this smart-ass is impossible.
“Sir, I want you to fuck me.” He was going to pay for that later. She would see to it. Sir, indeed, and Pansy Nicholas didn’t have to beg any man.
He levered up on his muscular arms, positioned his hard cock, and drove into her in one long, smooth thrust. Her body quickly stretched to accommodate his girth. And then he went still. Perfectly still. She tried to rise up and stroke him, but he still controlled her body. Her pussy was screaming for the friction and pounding she knew he could deliver if he would just move. “What do you say, Pansy?”
Billie began to stroke her pussy with long, slow, steady strokes as though he had all the time in the world when what she wanted was a hard, fast fucking. God, I need hard and fast. He is killing me. This was not what she had expected. She’d thought they would have a nice, hard fuck and she would get off quickly. This slow, aching need that permeated her entire body from the top of her head to her tingling toes was driving her mad. If he didn’t give her what she needed soon, she was going to come apart at the seams. Billie looked deeply into her eyes. “You are going to learn to trust me, Pansy, and when you do, you are going to call me Master.”
Like fucking hell! Billie Crockett was going to have to work a hell of a lot harder before that ever happened. But, oh God, she needed him to move.
“What do you want, Pansy?”
“Fuck me, damn it. Fuck me.”