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#BABYCRAZY: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 2
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Page 2
“Your perfume’s very nice,” he rasps softly. “A lovely floral scent.”
“I’m not wearing any,” I answer sassily, unable to hide the smile spreading across my face.
He looks back up at me and matches my grin. “Just naturally sweet, huh?”
I swallow, smiling at the compliment but also completely tongue-tied. Since when are hot guys actually nice? But I catch myself. This is work. So I start doing his make-up, whipping out my brushes and paints while fidgeting a bit with the lights and mirror.
But at the same time, I’m intensely aware of Dylan in a way I’ve never been aware of a client before. The way his skin radiates heat as I lean forward to brush his bronzed skin with setting powder. The way those shoulders are so broad, his massive form hulking in the make-up chair. And I can’t get over Dylan’s physical similarity to Ricky – after all, they’re identical twins, although also different in subtle, idiosyncratic ways. Because Ricky was lazy, rude, and vain. The bad twin was arrogant, and commanded no respect.
By contrast, I’ve only known Dylan for about two seconds and already I can tell that he’s totally different. His straight posture makes him look taller than Ricky, even though they should be the exact same height. He’s gentle and kind, yet commanding, without having to do or say much.
Oh god. My attraction to him is making my hands shake. I hope he doesn’t notice! But I can see from the corner of my eye he’s keeping his eyes on my face as I work. The fact that I’m into him must be obvious as day. I bet Dylan can walk into any room and make women swoon, falling over themselves like idiots. But for him to be into me? No, that’d be a pipe dream. Ricky may have been hot, but he was still a loser, whereas Dylan is clearly nothing of the sort. He’s an alpha prime. What would a man like this want with a brunette with a couple extra pounds?
Suddenly, I’m jolted from my thoughts.
“How do I look?” asks Dylan in deep, gentle voice. I allow myself to meet his gaze and notice that he’s smiling, those perfect lips molded beautifully. His blue eyes are warm and kind, and not cold like Ricky’s. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“Um, handsome - very handsome,” I stumble, holding the make-up brush in mid-air, my hand trembling. He smiles and suddenly his hand is on mine, gently enveloping it within his. Even his grip is different - purposeful and confident, not clammy and sweaty like Ricky’s always was. My breath stops in my throat.
Because I have to be careful. Things didn’t end well with Ricky. He was so charismatic in the beginning, but then quickly turned into a prick and dumped me. Why would Dylan be any different? Only this morning I’d sworn I wouldn’t go out with a guy that hot again, and yet here I am, flirting away like a nincompoop.
But Dylan seems so different from Ricky. The good twin seems genuine and sincere in his interest in me, and there’s a charisma that radiates from this male form, pulling me in like Ricky never did.
All this flashes through my mind in the split second after he takes my hand, making me freeze. I must look like a startled rabbit, because Dylan abruptly lets go of my hand, looking at me with a sudden concern in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” he growls. “I didn’t mean to shock you.”
But I interrupt him, saying in a hoarse voice thick with emotion.
“No it’s no problem. You didn’t shock me. In fact, I want it,” comes my dulcet murmur. His blue eyes flare.
“Oh really?” comes that low growl. “You want it?”
I blush. What are we talking about here? But somehow, the language between men and women is universal no matter the setting. We both know what we’re talking about as the electricity crackles between our forms so bright that heat sparks in my heart.
“I do want it,” I confirm softly, looking deep into those blue eyes.
And my words are true because I do want it, despite my previous relationship with his twin. Because there are good twins and bad twins, and maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time, Dylan could really be interested in me despite all my faults and foibles, despite all my idiosyncratic tendencies and extra curves. Maybe this time things will be different … and I’ll get lucky.
3
Fiona
“Okay Fiona,” Dylan says softly, his smile returning. “I got it.”
His smile is slow and sincere, with one side of his mouth much higher than the other, creating a dimple in his cheek. It’s too much - if I thought Ricky was hot, then his twin is smoldering!
Plus, now that he knows I’m interested, his hand goes back onto mine and this time I don’t freeze. Instead, I allow him to caress my skin with his thumb. It sends a shiver through my body and I drop the make-up brush with a clatter. He stands up and suddenly towers over me, never breaking eye-contact. My breath quickens as I feel his breath on my face - that’s how close he is.
Looking up I can see his pupils expanding in lust as he lowers his gaze from my eyes to my lips. Oh god - is he going to kiss me?! His hand lets go of my hand and travels up my arm, caressing its way across my shoulder, where it rests in my neck, cupping my cheek. We’re both breathing a bit heavier now and suddenly his thumb runs across the full pout of my lips, which are already slightly parted.
My lips have always been very sensitive, and Dylan’s sudden caress on my pucker teases and torments me like crazy. He’s coming closer to me, pushing me back so my ass presses into the make-up table. He gently but firmly nudges my foot out of the way with his, opening my thighs a little so when he presses his front into me, I can feel the hardness of his cock against my pussy.
Oh god! He’s so fucking hard and huge! In a sudden rush of lust I open my mouth further and let the tip of his thumb slide over my bottom lip, where I lick it sassily before sucking. His sudden sharp intake of breath is so close to my lips I can feel it, and yet we haven’t kissed yet. The electricity, the tension, is overwhelming. He instinctively grinds his pelvis into mine, his hardness scraping over my clit through both our clothes, making me gyrate with desperation. And he still hasn’t kissed me!
I moan gently, letting my hot breath meet his lips. His jaw clenches in lust, and he pushes himself up against me before tightening his grip. Whatever game he’s playing, whatever he’s holding out for, it’ll be over soon. He’s as tormented by me as I am by him, that much is clear: his hard body is taut against mine, grinding into my pussy through our clothes. I reach down to his pelvis and feel his enormous hard bulge through his expensive suit trousers: unlike jeans, this soft material allows for some leeway and I’m able to feel the full, thick, rock-hard outline of his cock in my hand. Holy shit, he’s huge!
Dylan groans, his open mouth almost on mine. My pussy creams as I grope at his bulge through his trousers, wanting it inside me. I start unbuckling his belt, fumbling with the zipper. Dylan starts panting, now squeezing both my tits with his hands, as I reach into his trousers and find his warm, ready rod and close my fist around it before pulling it gently out. He groans, clenching his jaw, his lips almost on mine.
“Mr. Masterson,” I whisper hoarsely against his mouth, as I caress his giant cock, jerking it gently. “Your team’s just outside waiting.”
“Let them wait,” he growls in response, suddenly pushing me up onto the makeup table while he shoves my skirt up. With a delicious tear, my drenched panties are ripped off, dropping to the floor with a soft plop.
“They’ll hear,” I feebly mention.
“Then we’ll have to be quiet,” he growls back with a horny grin. My hand is still on his cock but I let go as he thrusts his pelvis forward. Gasping, I feel his head pushing itself firmly into my tight, wet opening. But then he stops, making me squirm and mewl. His hand is on my neck, his other arm holding me firmly in place. I moan in anticipation of that huge hard cock inside me.
And as if answering my prayers, he thrusts his pelvis forward pushing his cock to the hilt into my tight, wet pussy. Ohhh, fuck! Simultaneously, he slams his lips on mine and we kiss. Our mouths fuse together in passion, and it’s too muc
h. I let out a muffled squeal.
“Unnh!” is my desperate mewl. “Unnh, unnh!”
My pussy simply feels too small and tight for how long and thick he is. But it’s delicious, and Dylan doesn't seem to care. He kisses me deep and lustfully, crushing me up against him so my tits are pressed against his chest. I moan in delight as he squeezes his cock in and out of my tightness, wanting more.
Breaking myself away from his kiss, I instinctively lie back so he can get better access. Instantly he grabs my wide hips with both hands and rolls my hips up so that he can get in deeper, that horse cock making me scream.
“Yes,” I shriek, forgetting to be quiet. “Yes, yes!”
He takes one of his hands off my hips to press it to my mouth to muffle the sound, but it doesn’t stay there. He lets his hand travel down to my huge tits and with two hands now, he opens my dress urgently, exposing the swaying, huge, milkiness of them.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls, fucking me harder and making my tits bounce, which makes him fuck me even harder. “Your body’s delicious,” he moans, pushing his hard cock deep inside my tight cunt as his pelvic bone presses into my clit. I moan louder now, as his balls grow tight against my ass cheeks.
I can feel my orgasm building and I fuck into the motion, but he holds me down. It turns me on to be controlled by him and my pussy clenches and creams as he moves me towards my climax. Dylan’s breathing grows faster and his jaw clenches - he’s close too. I can feel his cock get even harder and swollen as he forces it again and again into my sensitive tissue. I squirm in delight, moaning louder and louder as he holds me in place: one hand pressing down onto my pelvis, the other hand gripping a huge, swaying breast. And that does it. I scream, my orgasm plunging through my pussy with the velocity of an enormous breaking dam.
It’s a waterfall. I can feel my juices run down my legs but Dylan never stops. His huge cock continues pumping my clenching, cumming pussy. The orgasm ripples through me and I close my eyes, moaning his name, not knowing what I'm doing or saying. Suddenly he tightens his grip on my breast and my hip and groans through clenched teeth, thrusting his cock so deep and hard inside me I gasp.
“Fuck, Fiona!” he growls, as his cock spasms and pulses against the tightness of my pussy. “Oh god!” he groans, still thrusting while exploding like a geyser. I can feel his tight balls pumping against my ass cheeks as he unloads his seed through his pulsing cock. Oh shit. My pussy is still spasming from my own orgasm, pulling that seed in deep, and I moan again, utterly fulfilled.
Because I’ve never come so hard, and by the look on his face, neither has Dylan. His huge, thick cock is still deep inside me, and together we open our eyes in rapture, in awe of what just happened. Because this is the best sex I’ve ever had, bar none. But is there a future for us? Or was this some random, spontaneous hook-up? I hope the former because I won’t be able to bear it if the good twin also turns out to be bad.
4
Dylan
Straightening my tie, I close the door behind me. My heart is still beating, but I pretend like nothing happened. Like I didn’t just fuck that curvy make-up girl while my team waited for me outside. I glance at them now, clearing my throat, and see that they remain professional, pretending that nothing’s wrong. But they avoid my eyes, and one dude’s entire face is red . It doesn’t matter - I didn’t come this far by caring what my employees think of me.
“How much time do I have?” I ask Nathan, my assistant, as he hands me my coffee.
“Everyone’s ready for you, sir,” he answers. I nod and follow him through to the studio.
There’s a spring in my step. I feel invigorated. Whoever that Fiona girl is, what she did to me in there took me completely by surprise. I can’t remember ever having wanted a girl like that. I was a fucking caveman for sure. Because all these years I’ve been dating the kind of girls that come with my kind of billionaire lifestyle: tall model types, leggy, slender, and of course, blonde. It’s not that I don’t enjoy women. It’s not that I hate sex or anything like that. It’s just that this was more than that. I’ve never really given curvy brunettes much thought before, but with Fiona, there was no thought involved, period. From zero to hundred, suddenly she was all I’d ever wanted. I can’t explain it.
As I stand in the spotlight and let the lighting and camera people fiddle around, my mind wanders back to Fiona again. When I walked in and saw that angelic face, I was immediately intrigued. Of course, she was surprised. But I’m used that. Women are often taken by my good looks, and Fiona was no exception. Her big brown eyes were as round as plates, and her full lips parted in a pouty, perfect O-shape of shock.
But the expression looked good on her. And frankly, I lost it pretty quick. With that soft, fragrant skin so close to mine, I couldn’t focus on anything but her innocent, angelic nature. I had to force myself to keep my eyes on her face, because the gorgeous, huge natural tits under her dress begged for my full attention. And afterwards, seeing and sampling that tight pussy? I was in heaven.
But now it’s time to get to work. The cameras start rolling and I breeze through the spot in just a few takes. Everyone claps, visibly impressed with how fast and well it goes. But it’s no sweat. Things come easy to me, and I had Fiona like a tailwind at my back. She made me feel so masculine, dominant, and confident. Fucking her had been the main event, and the filming was just an afterthought. Damn. I haven't felt like this in years.
Nathan scampers over with a broad grin.
“Well done, sir! We’re going to the Selena for lunch cocktails. May I have the car brought around?” Obviously we’re celebrating the quality of the shoot, but I'm not in the mood. This Fiona girl has me focused on one thing - I need to see her again. I decline Nathan’s offer and tell him I’ll make my own way home. He’s confused, but then again, I don’t care what my employees think.
With long strides, I make my way back to the make-up room. It’s been almost an hour since Fiona and I were together, so I’m not surprised to find her gone when I walk into the room. She must have packed up her things and left right afterwards. Damnit! I need to find her again and figure out if she want more of the same. Or if she regrets what happened.
I hail a taxi and head back to the office. It’s quiet because the team’s out at the celebration lunch. Frankly, I’m glad to have some peace and quiet. I sit back in my office chair, feeling the cool, black leather through my suit as the A/C blasts. How do I go about this? I can’t just call up Fiona’s company and ask to speak to her, that would be weird. Even more, I don’t want to freak her out like some creepy old stalker. So what do I do?
Because I need her bad. Here, in the solitude of my office, my body starts reacting to the memory of our session together. Goddamn, the way her soft body had felt under my hands. Those huge, heavy tits, those hips and soft thighs, and that tiny, impossibly tight little cunt. I’m aware of how huge my dick is, but even so, the way I had to work myself into her was incredible. I’ve never experienced a pussy that tight before. Even thinking about it now, makes me hard.
I rub my growing rod as it expands down the leg of my trousers, inching down my thigh. Jacking off won’t do - I need the real thing. I need to see Fiona again and make sure she didn’t feel taken advantage of - that I'm not just some sleazy millionaire taking advantage of the make-up girl. I’m not that guy who thinks he has the right to fuck anything that moves, just because I can. And I need her to know that.
But I’m not too worried because she had been definitely been into it, that’s for sure. The woman had moaned and squealed, her pussy gushing with ecstasy. But still – why did she turn white as a sheet when I entered the room?
I’ll find out soon enough because what we did this morning was just a taster - I want more of her. I want to see Fiona’s whole body, nude and plush from every angle. I want to push my cock into every hole. I’m sure her tight pussy isn’t the only delicious orifice. My cock grows even harder as I think of it in her delicate little mouth, her full lips pouting as sh
e sucks desperately, her pink tongue rolling across the head. I have to shift my position because my cock gets so hard that it’s pushing painfully against the zip of my pants. Fuck. Thinking about Fiona has me horny as shit, and I still haven't figured out how to get her back.
But for now, there are certain needs to be addressed. I unzip and reach inside my trousers, enclosing my raging hard-on in my fist. The office is empty, and even if anyone were here, they wouldn't dream of entering without knocking first. Leaning my head back, I stroke my pulsing cock as I allow my thoughts to roam back to Fiona’s body. This time I wonder what she’d look like from the back, her wide ass offered up to me. If her cunt was that tight, I wonder what her ass would be like? I imagine pushing my cock gently into her tight little hole as I beat my cock harder now, and my balls contract hard at the fantasy. I envision having her on all fours with my cock sliding in an out of her ass to the hilt, fucking her bottom so good that her pussy queefs in pleasure. And with a shout, the cum comes flooding then. I orgasm for the second time that day, hot semen shooting onto my desk and spraying over a couple papers. Aww, fuck fuck fuck, how badly I want Fiona.
I’ve only just cleaned myself up before I start making phone calls like a madman. I’m gonna find her. Where did she work again? Some make-up agency. This girl has me going crazy and I need to know if she feels the same way. I made her scream earlier. I felt her orgasm on my cock as I fucked her. I know she wants me too, and I’m determined to make it happen again.
A sudden thought crosses my mind even as the phone starts ringing. Because this sweet little brunette is probably too good for me. She’s sweet and innocent, whereas I’m an asshole billionaire. All my life I’ve only cared about work and making money, fast cars and fast women. But deep down, I’m ready for something different. No more popsicle blondes with no brain between their ears. No more Bentleys and cash registers that ring non-stop. Instead, there’s a beautiful brunette out there … and I’m determined to see where this leads.