Katia Wildermann

ONE

         "You can't be serious," Lyla Mason said, staring across the desk at her boss.

         Dean Kincaid pushed the file at her. "You're the best cleaner we've got, Lyla. Callum Reed is the biggest account we've managed to land, and we need the best."

         Reluctantly, Lyla opened the file and was immediately treated to a picture of an impressively erect penis, attached to a Tweet from @i<3randyboys that read "Guess who sexted me a pic of his junk!!! #CallumReed #MMAbadboy."

         "Jesus," she muttered, slapping the file shut. "This guy could break us, you know."

         Kincaid & Masters were very much new kids on the block in the cutthroat field of public relations in Las Vegas, and while they had been building a solid reputation as a firm that got results, one nightmare client could bring it all crashing down.

         "Then you had better make sure he doesn't."

         "But...," she said, trying one last time to back out.

         "He could make us, too, Lyla. If we can show the world that we can turn Callum Reed into a good household name, clients will be lined up down the street to get on our list. I know you're up to the challenge. Daniel and I agree that a success here could net you a partnership. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

         Lyla frowned. Dangling a partnership in front of her now, after she'd been promised one and denied at her last firm, was tantamount to emotional blackmail. Kincaid & Masters had come to her rescue after she'd been fired from working at Jackson & Jackson and no one else in town would hire her.

         As horrible as it had been, getting fired had been the best thing to come out of that job. She'd let herself get talked into sleeping with the boss—both of them—but the sex had never been good. It had been all about pleasing the father and son, and not about filling any of her needs. Having their wives find out had just been pissing on the crappy cake.

         Looking at Dean now, he nodded as if to say he knew what she was thinking. He knew she'd never find another job anywhere in the business if she lost her job here, or quit over not being willing to take on a client. He had her over a barrel and they both knew it.

         "What if I fuck it up?" she asked, licking her suddenly dry lips.

         "Don't fuck it up," Dean said with a deceptively pleasant smile. "I would take failing with Reed to mean that you're really just not cut out for this profession."

         Ouch. Well, at least she knew the score. At Jackson & Jackson, they'd strung her along, blithely making promises while they shoved their dicks in her ass, and she'd been totally taken in by their bullshit charms.

         She lifted the folder off Kincaid's desk and he smiled in victory.

         "Do your best," he admonished, before returning his attention to his monitor.

         Lyla checked her watch, seeing that she had just enough time to catch the usual bus home, if she hurried. She had the long ride home to think about her predicament.

         She'd take a better look at the file when she got home, and Google Reed to see what she'd just been stuck with. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she'd been led to believe.

         Yeah, right.

***

         Adam Rhodes heard his neighbor's door open and close, and he glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. Lyla was as reliable as clockwork. Every night, almost without fail, he could lift one earpiece out and turn down the volume of whatever game he was playing to hear her walk in her door.

         He used to hate the paper-thin walls of his studio apartment, but all that had changed shortly after the redhead had moved in next door.

         "Gotta go," he said quietly into his headset, and logged off mid-gunfight, but not before he heard KillerEdBrown laugh and say, "Pervert."

         All his gaming buddies knew to expect his absence for a least an hour after Lyla got home.

         With a couple keystrokes he had piggybacked onto her wireless router and hacked into her webcam, anxiously waiting the few seconds for the system to link up. Just seeing her as she crossed into the camera's field of vision caused his dick to go half-wood on him.

         God, she was sexy. His favorite moment was coming, now. She'd taken off her blazer and was reaching up to unpin her hair.

         "Oh yeah," he whispered as the long red locks fell about her shoulders and she shook them out.

         He had long ago stopped feeling bad for watching her without her knowledge. In the earliest days after she moved in a year ago, he'd tried to resist hacking her system. He'd even visited her under the pretext of the friendly neighbor helping her secure her system, but the devil had made him leave a back door....

         Sometimes he even pretended she knew he was watching, the intimacy of the moments he witnessed were so powerful. And she surely suspected the kitten statue he'd given her for Christmas and insisted on putting on a particular shelf—the shelf that had the best alternate view of her—was more than just a statue.

         Lyla was unbuttoning her blouse now, standing in perfect view of the camera he'd dubbed the "pussy cam." He watched, mesmerized, as more and more of her creamy flesh was revealed. He unbuttoned his 501s and pulled his cock out, making the most of the moments before she slipped on her camisole. He wrapped his hand around his fevered flesh and tugged, inhaling at the sight of her nipples as she pulled her bra off.

         She let the cami slide down her upraised arms, and Adam imagined it was his hands running along her flesh as he tugged a little harder, his breath coming more quickly.

         That rockin' body of hers in that camisole had sealed the desire he'd had to see more of her after he'd caught her ducking into the hall to fetch her paper one Sunday. Between that glimpse of her and hearing her giving her vibrator a workout nearly every night...it had been impossible to resist getting a better look at her.

         She must have had a rough day, he thought as he watched her pause in her undressing to pour herself a glass of wine. Then, after setting the glass on the desk, she unzipped and shimmied out of the pencil skirt, leaving the fabric puddled on the floor in front of the bed.

         Adam used to hate living in a studio and not being able to separate his bedroom from his living room, but ever since he'd started spying on Lyla, he was glad she had the same setup.

         She had to know he was watching her. Why else would she change clothes like that immediately upon getting home from work?

Instead of turning on the TV or fixing herself something to eat, Lyla sat down in front of her laptop computer, giving Adam a good look at her lovely face as she looked down at something she'd placed on the desk. Adam checked the other monitor and saw it was a file folder of some sort, but the angle was wrong for him to see what it was.

         Must be work related, he decided. It didn't matter, though. Lyla was hot no matter what she was doing.

         She frowned as she looked up from the file and Adam jumped. It totally looked like she was frowning at him, even though he knew that was stupid. She woke her computer with a shake of the mouse and clicked on something, then typed a few words. Adam let go of himself long enough to break into her screen so he could see what she was up to.

         It was his turn to frown when he saw that she'd Googled Callum Reed, the MMA bad boy. Why would she be interested in him? Then he saw her glance down at the file on her desk, and realized he must be a new work project for her. The images and news stories that came up in that simple search told Adam she'd have her hands full managing that guy's image.

         She was looking at the screen again, and he saw the familiar look of desire cross her face as she licked her lips. His cock jumped in response, and he grasped it firmly, feeling a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip.

         God, what I'd give to have her look at me like that! Lyla had never been rude to him, but she'd never shown him any real warmth, either. He glanced at the mirrored image of her screen and saw she'd opened up a picture of a huge cock, identified as Reed's.

         Oh yeah, he thought, and bit his own lip as he anticipated what she was about to do. This was his lucky day. Lyla loved her cock pictures.

         Sure enough, she pushed herself away from the desk. Adam turned to the "pussy cam" monitor and watched as she reached between her legs and pushed her lace panties aside to run her finger down into the folds of her sex. That's one of the things he loved about Lyla. She didn't fiddle around; she went straight for the prize.

         He lengthened the stroke of his hand on his cock, using his own pre-cum to lubricate himself, feeling it stiffen exponentially at the sight of her tipping her head back briefly in pleasure.

         She must already be wet, he realized. She hadn't even had to lick her fingers as she spread the lips of her pussy open with two fingers and slipped a third finger inside. He had the perfect vantage to watch her delicate digits working against the pink flesh of the most beautiful pussy he'd ever had the pleasure of jerking off to.

         Through the headset, he heard her sigh as she gazed back at the dick on the screen, and it wasn't hard to imagine she was biting her lip just for him.

 

TWO

         Lyla sighed again, reaching both hands into her panties now, spreading herself wide with the fingers of her left hand while the fingers of her right hand circled her clit, alternately rubbing the throbbing nerve bundle and dipping into her cleft, bringing more juices out to stimulate herself further.

         She groaned at the sensations she was creating in herself. Since she'd moved to Sin City she hadn't had time to hook up with anyone, not to mention find a boyfriend. She'd been too busy, first trying to satisfy two men who had never satisfied her, then trying to find a new job, and doing her best to keep it without having to sleep with her new bosses.

         She heard a thump next door and smiled. Adam. She looked straight at the statue of the kitten he'd given her and spread her legs wider, propping one foot up on her bed and licking her lips again as she dipped her fingers further inside herself.

         It should freak her out, she knew, that her cute-in-a-nerdy-way neighbor had given her a spy-cam. And it had, when she first started hearing suspicious sounds through his wall shortly after he'd given it to her. Sounds that always corresponded with her masturbation sessions.

         He'd all but told her that's what the kitten was when he gave it to her. He'd said it was so she wouldn't feel lonely, that she could look at it and know he was watching out for her. And for some reason, she hadn't confronted him with the truth, and hadn't discarded or destroyed the device. In fact, knowing he was watching turned her on even more.

         They'd never spoken about their activities. She'd always hoped he would come over one of these days and give her a good dicking. She was getting tired of her toys and pleasuring herself.

         Why not tonight? she thought, glancing at the picture on her screen again. If she was going to have to deal with a troublemaker like Reed, she'd best not go into it too horny to be able to keep her hands to herself.

         "God, I need to get laid," she said aloud, looking straight at the kitten again.

         A louder thump, followed by a crash, made her smile even broader. Oh yeah, that nerd next door was totally primed to come and take care of her needs. She hoped he had as big a cock as his package promised.

         She reached for her phone to send him a text.

                You okay?

         It was a moment, accented by another thud, before the response came back.

                Yeah. Knocked one of my monitors over.

         She hesitated a moment before she responded.

                Need me to come fuck you?

         She could always claim autocorrect if it didn't go down the way she was hoping. She looked back at the kitten and continued stroking herself, arching her back at the pleasure. "I need to feel a dick inside me," she said, pouting for him.

               My door's unlocked.

         It was a safe response from him. He was letting her choose, without giving himself away...yet. If she went over there and found him with a hard-on, she would definitely take advantage of that.

         She sat up quickly and adjusted her panties, then took a big gulp of wine for just that extra bit of courage she'd need to actually go out the door.

         Courage bolstered, she stood and crossed to her door, opened it, and peered out into the hallway. Adam lived in the corner apartment at the end of a short hall, and the two-bedroom unit across the way was vacant. There were only the three doors on this wing, and Lyla felt confident that she could make it to his door without being seen. Which was a good thing. If she'd had to stop and put on some clothes, she might back out.

         She slipped out her door and into his in seconds, pushing the door closed behind her and leaning against it, looking around. The room was dim—she didn't think he ever opened his curtains—and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust enough to see him leaning over his desk, his face lit by the dual monitors in the moments before they went dark.

         He was going to try to play it cool.

         "Adam," she said breathlessly. Show me, she wanted to say. But she didn't want to ruin her chances to get fucked tonight. That could come later.

         "Lyla," he said, and she saw his jeans were unbuttoned enough to show the tip of a cock poking out the top. She licked her lips.

         "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Her pussy still tingled from her fingers, and the fabric of her damp panties only stirred her up more.

         "No, I...."

         She pouted at him. "I was hoping to take advantage of that," she said, pointing at his package. She moved away from the door and closer to him. He stood up straight and adjusted himself, a smile creeping onto his lips. "It's been ages since I've been properly fucked."

         She could hardly believe she was saying things like that aloud. Of course, it was part of the reason she'd gotten in trouble at Jackson & Jackson. She had a hard time filtering the things she said, and the younger Jackson had been hot. But right now, Adam—with his dark brown curls and blue eyes—was hotter.

         She watched his face closely, hoping she hadn't been wrong. Maybe the kitten statue really was just a statue....

But before she could work herself up into too much of a state, Adam smiled.

         "I can take care of that."

         She heaved a sigh of relief. "Good."

         Without further ado, she walked up to him and pushed the jeans down on his hips, exposing a cock that was erect and everything bit as magnificent as she had imagined whenever she'd surreptitiously checked her neighbor out.

         He gave a little grunt of surprise, but didn't stop her. In seconds she had her hands wrapped around the hard length of him, stroking him to even greater rigidity.

         Her name on his lips was gratifying to hear. "Lyla."

***

         Adam could hardly believe Lyla was in his apartment with him, not only barely wearing any clothes, but stroking his cock so persuasively he wondered if he was somehow dreaming. He put his hands on her shoulders as much to convince himself he was awake as to steady himself against the sudden wobbly feeling in his knees.

         "I need a favor," she said, and he looked down into her eyes, losing himself in the heat he saw there.

         "Anything," he said, and realized it was true. He would step in front of a firing squad for her, as long as they pulled the trigger while her hands were still on him.

         Or something, he thought, realizing the outcome of that little scenario hardly made sense. But that was what she did to his normally logical mind.

         "I need you to fuck me," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "No strings, no drama, just hot sex. Can you do that? I really need you to do that."

         "Hell, Lyla. That's every man's dream," he said. "I've been dreaming of that very thing for a while."

         "Good," she said again, and pushed him backwards onto the bed so she could pull his 501s all the way off. Once the jeans were on the floor, she prowled her way up his body until she was straddling him, hands on either side of his shoulders, briefly grinding her sex against his erection. Her stare was almost ferocious as she seemed to be waiting for him to make a move.

         With little hesitation, he put his hands on the thin strings of her panties and pulled out to the sides, stretching the fabric until he heard a ripping sound, and there was no longer any resistance to him pulling the scrap of material away from her. She closed her eyes with a sigh as he deliberately pulled the remains of the garment up between her legs, drawing the material through the folds of her sex and feeling the damp material gathering in his hands.

         "Yeah," she whispered. "Oh yeah."

         Tossing the ruined panties to the side, he put his hands on her hips and pushed up, suggesting that she lift herself off him so he could get busy with the part where he fucked her. She obliged and as she raised up, he reached between them and positioned himself at her hot entrance. He thought he might have to work a little to spread the wetness around, but she was so ready that she just lowered herself onto him with a moan, sliding home with the perfect amount of friction.

         She was hot and tight around him, clenching her muscles and squeezing as she lifted back up his length, and he was afraid for a minute that he was going to blow his wad right then. It had been far too long since he'd been enveloped by anything other than his own hand, and this...this was heaven.

         In an effort to distract himself from reaching orgasm too fast, he reached up and palmed her breasts through the silky material of the camisole. Touching them for real beat any fantasy he'd entertained while watching her through her webcam. The material warmed under his hands, and he felt her nipples tighten under the friction created while she rode up and down his shaft.

         Her breasts were smallish, and fit in his hands perfectly. He pinched both nipples gently and she gasped.

         "Harder," she said. "They won't break."

         He did as she requested, and she moaned and paused in her ride to grind her pelvis against his.

         "Lyla," he gasped. "If you want this to last, you'll have to...."

         "Nonsense," she said. "Just stay with me. I have faith in you."

         "You hardly know me," he said, another gasp escaping as she ground against him again.

         "I can tell." He didn't have time to wonder at her confidence as she leaned forward close enough to kiss him. Her mouth tasted of wine and her tongue ran along the seam of his lips, demanding entry. He couldn't do anything but comply.

         She was right. That kiss was searing hot, and it consumed him so that, even while he was aware of her body matching the movement of his own, he could only hang on for the ride.

         She broke the kiss and sat up, moaning as her entire body tensed around him. She grasped his hands to steady herself, and he found himself watching the curve of her neck as she threw her head back, shuddering with her release. As if she'd granted him permission, he felt himself carried away with her orgasm and let himself go, too.

         "Jesus, Lyla," he said, tugging on her hands so he could bring her down to kiss him again.

         She shuddered again, grinding herself against him, milking him for every ounce of energy she could take. And he let her.

         "Adam," she said, a note of contentment in her voice as she looked into his eyes. She didn't look like she was in any kind of hurry to move. "That was awesome."

         "Yes," he agreed, and kissed her.

 

THREE

         Callum Reed grunted as the woman's teeth grazed the tip of his cock again, and he couldn't help it. He shot his load into her mouth and she lapped it up, every drop.

         "Good god, baby, that was great." He couldn't remember her name. He could never remember their names.

         She smiled up at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked like she was going to say something and he stood abruptly, pulling up his shorts. "Got a big day tomorrow, baby. Have to get my beauty rest, you know." He chuckled to forestall any arguments. "See Trevor on your way out if you need anything."

         The woman pouted, but he held out his hand to help her to her feet and she stood. "Really, baby. Thanks to you I'll sleep well." He was repeating himself, but he didn't want her to talk. Especially when all he could imagine was his cum in the back of her throat, garbling her words. He all but pushed her out the door.

         It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed himself, but this deal Trevor had been working on for him was bumming him out. How was he supposed to feel good about a blowjob when he was worried whether or not pictures would somehow end up online? It wasn't as if he was out there fishing for social media whores whose sole aim in life was to get a picture of themselves half-naked on the internet with some celebrity or another. They just found him, and yeah, he wasn't hard to persuade to chase a skirt or two to see where he ended up.

         But now his trainer had found him a PR agent? Someone who was going to make his life a living hell until he stopped trying to get laid altogether?

         That wasn't going to work for him. Nights like tonight, when his opponent only lasted one round and he was still so jazzed up and wired in his "fight-mind" that he wouldn't have been able to sleep without some kind of release. And since street fighting was worse for his reputation—and freedom—than spreading the love, he had always just kept his hands in his pockets and his dick wet.

         Trevor wanted him to stop that, too? Trevor didn't know it, but it was like asking a volcano not to erupt. He couldn't keep that kind of energy bottled up and only let it out in the cage. Not when his star was on the rise and it seemed like no one could touch him.

         Once the woman left his room, he heard her speaking briefly to Trevor in the adjoining room. He hoped Trevor wasn't asking to check her phone's camera. He was going to get a reputation with the ladies as more trouble than he was worth.

         But...out of sight, out of mind.

         All Callum wanted right now was to shower and hit the sack. His "big day" tomorrow was a meeting with the PR firm Trevor had hired to help him clean up his image. He understood that he needed to land good sponsors, the kind who would get him into the fights that would take him to the championship. Good sponsors required an athlete who wasn't a waste of skin.

         The only thing he wanted more than not going to the PR firm was to get to the championship, so he had agreed to go. But he didn't have to like it.

 

###

 

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