Someone Taught Aimee

She pitched a perfect shut-out with one angry throw. The diamond smacked his cheekbone and bounced into the gutter at her feet. She yelled something, but he couldn't hear it over the roaring in his ears as he watched thousands of dollars lose itself in the muck of rotting leaves, fast food trash, and disgustingly unidentifiable goo. All thoughts of his recently purchased and obscenely expensive clothes dissipated when the 24 karat gold gave a cheery flash and slid under a half rotted oak leaf. Joseph dove for it. Armani met half-dried ketchup and his hand flailed in something that he'd rather not know about. He found the oak leaf and then the ring. Christine turned on one tiny, spiked heel and disappeared into the gawking crowd.

His apartment was in shambles and for once he didn't care. Her fur coat had swirled as she climbed in a cab and left him in the literal gutter. He'd walked home and ripped his clothes off. He had wanted to burn them, but he didn't have a fireplace. He'd settled for shoving them into the bottom of an antiseptic, black trash bag. He'd dragged it through the living room and knocked over a crystal figurine with his bare ass. Christine had given that to him to celebrate his latest deal. A moment later it was in the trash bag. By the time the fury diminished the bag was bulging, his apartment looked like someone had tossed it, and there was no trace of her left in his life. Except for a trash bag and a dirty ring. It was almost symbolic.

"Wow, this place is a mess." He whirled to find Aimee lounging in the doorway, Christine's apartment key in hand. She wasn't looking at his decorating.

"Go away."

"Now is that any way to treat the calvary? She had your stuff on its way to Goodwill. I rescued it for you." Aimee nudged at a box with her toe. "The least you can do is invite me in for a cup of coffee and thank me."

Her eyes remained locked on target and it was stirring his anger again. He resisted the urge to throw something at her. "Consider yourself thanked and get out of here."

She licked her lips and dragged her jade green eyes up his chest to smile at him. He didn't like that smile. "I know why she dumped you."

"I could care less." That was a bald-faced lie, but he didn't want her in his house.

"Look, she's my sister, okay? I care about her, too, and I just want to see her happy."

He felt like an ass. "Fine. Kitchen's through there. I'll get dressed and we can talk."

"Pity."

He glared at her.

She raised her hands defensively. "I love my sister, but I'm not blind." His expression never changed. She dropped her hands. "Fine. Kitchen."

His oldest sweats and ratty shirt weren't enough to keep her eyes from physically assaulting him. That's one of the things he'd always hated about her; the relentless sexual pursuit. He occupied himself with the coffee to keep her from bothering him. He could still feel her staring at him; it was making him twitchy.

"Why did she break up with me?"

"You've been a naughty boy."

He threw her a glare over his shoulder. She grinned unrepentantly. At his ass.

"Someone told her that you were screwing around on her with that girl you had over here for a week."

When he was tearing his apartment apart he didn't think it would have been possible to get any angrier. He was wrong. "Who told her that?"

Aimee inspected her fingernails. "What's it worth to you?"

That bitch. "You told her."

"I was on another continent at the time, remember? Chrissy and I were in London."

"Who did it?"

"What's it worth to you, Geronimo? I know you were screwing around on my sister. I can help you convince her that you weren't. But I want something."

If he hit her his father would kill him. He would go to jail. Christine would never forgive him. "Spit it out."

"24 hours."

"What?"

"I want you for 24 hours. You're not engaged to my sister anymore and what she doesn't know won't hurt her. Starting now."

"Get out."

She smiled at him, looking exactly like the coyotes that dotted the plains around his mother's house. "I'll tell Chrissy that you tried to rape me and she'll never have anything to do with you again. Now you don't want that, do you? All I want is 24 hours out of your life and you'll never have to deal with me again, except to be nice to me at Christmas. 24 hours and I'll be an absentee sister-in-law."

"She'll never believe you."

"Right. She'll take your word over mine. The word of a cheating creep over her own sister's. That scar that cuts right through your pubic hair won't hurt much either. How'd you get that anyway? It makes you look delicious."

Joseph forced his fists to open one finger at a time.

"I don't have all day. What's it going to be, stud? Happy ever after with Princess Chrissy or are you going back to the reservation to pout?"

"Tell me who did it first."

Her laughter was as harsh as she was. "Oh come on, what do you think I am? You'll get the name afterwards."

"No deal. I get the name first and then you get the 24 hours."

"Not likely, chief. You'll skip out on the deal and I'll get nothing for my troubles."

"I thought you loved your sister."

"I do love my sister. I just love my pussy more and you are going to be very good for my pussy." She was staring at the soft cotton that covered his crotch again.

He wasn't the whiz of Mergers and Acquisitions for nothing. "You give me a little of what I want and I'll give you a little of what you want. I need to know that you're not lying to me."

"Fair enough." She dug her cellphone out and gave him a perfectly fake smile. "Chrissy?"

He almost dropped his coffee cup, he hadn't expected her to call her sister.

"I just dropped Joe's stuff off at his apartment. The guy looks pretty torn up."

He strained to hear Christine's voice.

"Yeah, sis, I know. I think that maybe you should give the guy a chance to explain." She winced and pulled the phone away from her face. He could hear the distinctive sound of a yelling Christine. "Look, Chrissy, maybe there was more to it than what we heard. The guy isn't a complete loser, you did fall in love with him right? Right? Chrissy? Good. At least give him a chance to explain things."

His heart stopped beating.

"No, I don't think tonight would be good. He was hitting the bottle or something. I didn't know that. You broke his heart, sis, that would drive any man to drink. Let him sober up and think about it. Tomorrow afternoon would be a good idea. Want me to come along with you? Okay, I'll stop by and pick you up at three. Nah, I bet he calls in sick. The guy was throwing up already. Love you. Muah." She pressed a button and put the phone away. "There, just call me John Gray. You've got yours coming and now I want mine. You can start by stripping."

He crossed his arms over his chest instead. There was no way he was going to fuck that bitch. "You first."

She smiled like a pirana. "I don't think so, Sitting Bull. You're mine, you're the one jumping through hoops."

"You know where the door is. Don't let it hit your ass."

"We had a deal."

"I don't kiss ass. You want it, you work for it." He grabbed his crotch and squeezed. "You want it, Aimee?"

She licked her lips. "I'm in charge here."

"I don't think so." He massaged his cock gently, just enough so she could watch it push against his sweats. "You want it?"

She ripped her eyes from his hand and glared at him. "Look, Kemosabe, we're going to get something straight, I run this little show. Not you."

He gave her his best disgusted look, then picked up the coffee cup as if it were the most important thing in the world just because he knew it would piss her off.

"We had a deal. Maybe I should call Chrissy."

"Maybe you should just take your fucking clothes off." She looked shocked. For a moment he thought she would run straight to her sister with tales that would destroy any hope of a relationship forever. Then he caught the look in her eyes. So that's the way she floats her boat. He put the cup down and grinned at her. "Take your clothes off, bitch."

Her hands made an abortive move toward the buttons on her blouse. She threw her shoulders back and threw a weak glare in his direction. "You're bought and paid for, Tonto. You're the one whose going to strip, not me."

Stealthy as bobcat in the sage, he crossed the room until he was bent over the table and in her face. All of the blood drained from her cheeks and her green eyes were wide as the sky. "I won't tell you again. Take your clothes off."

She took in a huge shuddering breath and immediately started on the buttons. Satisfied, he retreated to the counter and lounged, watching her. She tried to do the usual sexy wiggle but she was shaking too hard for it. If her nipples weren't breaking through her bra, he would have thought she wasn't willing.

The oddest rush of power tore through him. He had negotiated deals that dwarfed the GNP of the average third world country that didn't give him a tenth of the adrenaline rush this was. He grinned wolfishly when she met his eyes. Hers were soft and burning, full of some insane sexual heat. She licked her lips and swayed toward him.

"Turn around. I want to see what I'm getting."

She obediently twisted in a circle. He couldn't tell if she was a natural blonde or not, she'd shaved completely.

"Show me your cunt."

She jerked, showing some signs of defiance. He grabbed his cock, not the least bit surprised that it was hard as his head, and pulled at it a little. Turning around she spread her legs and bent over, flashing him a sweet looking pussy. For some reason he had thought she'd be gaping and worn with well used, floppy lips. While he watched a clear drop of female cum slipped from her swollen lips.

Damn.

He had never seen a woman do that.

Glancing over her shoulder at him, she chewed on her bottom lip and looked worried. The expression in her eyes was a mixture of fear, excitement, and vulnerability. Dammit, he wished he hadn't seen that.

"Get over here and suck my cock, bitch." Maybe he could forget that under Princess Bitch she was still a human being.

She rushed to him, dropping to her knees with a greedy innocence and reached for the waistband of his sweats. He shoved her hands away and glared at her. "Use your teeth."

Startled, she blinked up at him with huge eyes. Then her hands settled on his calves and her face dipped toward his crotch. He hissed in his breath, part in pleasure and part in the groggy male terror that always happens when a woman's teeth wrap around his cock. She squeezed him through the cotton of his sweat, letting him feel the heat of her breath for a few timeless heartbeats, then she went for the waistband.

It took a few awkward tries before she could pull them down. She had to switch sides and worm them down his body enough to free him. Her hair, long, silky, and blonde, ran over his skin like a million tiny fingers torturing him. Finally, his cock sprang out at her, hard and waiting. She licked her lips, her eyes locking onto to it. As always, her intense hunger made him a little uncomfortable, but unlike before when he just wanted to get away, it made him want to shove his dick in her mouth.

"Open up, baby."

Her mouth opened and her tongue, long and pink, slid out. He shuddered when it rolled over the head of his cock, and then drew him inside of her. Oh yeah. He let his head fall back and his eyes shut, just to block out everything but the feel of her hot, tight, little mouth sucking him in deeper. He slipped his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp.

Christine gave him the obligatory blow job now and then, and it had always been nice. But this, this was mind-blowing. Someone had taught Aimee how to do it and do it like a man needed. Even better, she devoured his dick like she'd die if she didn't get enough of him. The suction and the heat started at the tip and slowly moved down the full length of his shaft. Her fingers combed through the hair over his balls, teasing them with impossibly light touches and gentle caresses. Through all of it her lips worked over his cock, so did her teeth and her tongue.

Once his cock was thoroughly wet, she wrapped her lips around her teeth and started bobbing her head up and down. She squeezed, giving his cock the friction that made his balls draw up against his body and the roaring haze of orgasm race through his head. He wanted to shove her off and pull onto him harder all at the same time. She moved shallowly, working just the head with a mouth that suddenly seemed to be hotter than the sun and tighter than a fist. Her hand wrapped around the shaft and picked up the fucking rhythm.

He pulled on her hair, trying to gasp out something about cumming, to warn her. She ignored him and kept moving. Somehow, the thought that it was Christine's bitch slut of a sister with her lips wrapped around his dick made the stars blow up in his head like they'd never done before. He hated her, her adored her, her wanted her to suck him forever. Roaring, he pulled her onto his cock, forcing more of him into her mouth, and felt his sperm explode from his cock.

Usually, he knew what a woman did with his cum. This time, he honestly didn't know. He couldn't get his eyes to focus before she stood up or his mind to wrap around anything coherent. He leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to find his balance again. Eventually, he focused on her face. She was smiling softly, pleasure with herself and him reflected in her deep green eyes.

"That was great, baby."

The hard look insinuated itself in her expression all over again. Calculating and cynical, she grinned, showing all of her teeth. "Feel better now, chief?"

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch?"

"Because I like to fuck. Are you done for the night or do I get a ride on Silver?"

"You'll be lucky if I don't spank your ass."

"Tease me, please me, chief." She gave a wiggle of her ass that made her pretty tits jiggle and licked her lips. "C'mon, stud. I've got twenty four hours with this guy. I'm not wasting a minute of it. You have a bed around here or do you want it on the table?"

"The floor. I'm not ruining my furniture with a skank slut like you."

She grinned ferally. "Oh come now, Tonto, I'm not that bad. Want to smell my pussy? It's clean."

"I don't even want to fuck your pussy. No telling where it's been."

A look of hurt flashed through her eyes so quickly he discounted it. "You promised."

"I'm not hard."

Cynical and jaded. "Like I can't blow you right up."

"You can try. Bitches aren't my style."

"You didn't have a problem before."

"Young, dumb, and full of cum." He picked up his coffee cup again. "What are you waiting for? On your knees."

She eyed him speculatively for a moment, making him feel like some kind of horse at auction. He had never felt like such a piece of meat before. He hated it. "I don't think so, Tonto. You're bought and paid for. You're

my

whore."

"I'm no one's toy. We have a deal."

"You sold your hunky body for Princess Chrissy. You can work it for a while. Princess Chrissy tells me that you savages sure know how to eat pussy. I intend to find out."

He absolutely hated the way he called Christine "Princess Chrissy" in that tone of voice. His temper flared, breaking the control that was whispered about in an economic jungle where people were noted for emotional control. He twisted his hand in her hair and jerked, pulling her down. She shrieked, clamping her fingers around his wrist, and dropped to her knees. Even though it was a quiet growl, he sounded more like he roared. "Suck!"

Aimee reattached her lips to his dick, slurping it down with all the gusto of a party of Comanche on a raid. He felt himself growing in her mouth, filling it. Using her hair, he pulled her firmly onto it. Some part of him was yelling that he should be ashamed, that he was all but raping her, but he ignored it. Her mouth felt too good. Taming the bitch felt too good.

She rubbed her body on his leg, planting her pussy on his foot. She groaned around his cock, sending shivers up his spine. Her hips worked, fucking herself on the top of his foot. Even through the cloud of anger and excitement in his head, he could feel her wetness. She was dripping down his foot. He got a better grip in her hair and tugged her off of his dick.

"You like it rough."

She glared up at him, swiping the back of her hand over her mouth. "No, I don't. Treat me with respect, Geronimo, or you'll regret it."

He looked her over. She was squatting at his feet, her knees spread. He could see light reflecting off of her wet pussy, the deep red flush around her breasts with the tight nipples, and how her chest was heaving. She loved it, that was obvious. And he was going to love giving her just was she deserved. "I don't think so, bitch. Bend over the table."

"No." She reached for his cock. "I'm not finished."

He used her hair to make her stand up. She stared daggers at him, but didn't fight it. Spinning her toward the table, he wrapped his fingers around his dick. She caught the edge with her hands and looked at him over her shoulder. Deliberately, she spread her feet and arched her back, presenting him that sweet, little pussy.

Swiping the head of his dick over her wet lips, he swallowed a groan. "Hold your cunt open."

She slipped her hand between her legs, using two fingers to awkwardly part her lips. It wasn't open, but that hadn't been the point of the order. He needed to show her who was the boss. Finding the hole with his dick, he pushed, sliding in. She was tight. Astonishingly tight. The loose, well-used pussy was almost virginal in feel. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth. He wanted to grab her hips and slam home; he knew that she wanted him to. He wasn't ready for that. He wanted to take her slow, savor the sensation.

"How can you have such a tight pussy?"

"I don't know."

She shoved back with her entire body, swallowing half of his dick in a way that made them both cry out, his a deep, growling epithet, hers a long squeal. He slapped her ass. "I'm doing the fucking, bitch."

She did it again. He smacked her again, in the same spot, leaving an angry hand print. She jerked, her entire body shaking. He did it again, aiming for the red mark, harder. She cried out and shoved herself all the way onto his dick. He could feel her pussy milk him while she panted and thrashed almost silently. It took him a few moments to realize that she was cumming. A fierce joy warred with an equally strong pride. He'd done that. Shock replaced his exultation. He didn't think a woman could cum without clitoral stimulation.

Confused, he backed up. His dick did not want to leave that tight, wet hole. He didn't really want to leave it either. That was the problem. He wanted to hate Aimee. She was the bitch he had to tolerate, not the woman he wanted to share sexual bliss with. He wanted this to be commerce, nothing more than a physical exchange for information. He didn't want orgasms. Not her, not his, just not at all.

He leaned against the counter again and picked up his coffee cup. He sipped at the lukewarm brew to give himself time to think. His dick was still hard, still pointing at her like an Irish Setter after a bird.

Aimee collected herself and flew across the kitchen. She dropped to her knees and shoved her face in his groin, rubbing her cheek against him. He almost dropped his coffee. What the

fuck

?

"Please," she begged, "don't stop."

He tried to shove her off, but she clung to his leg. "What in the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" She pressed kisses to his lower belly for a moment. "I just want to please you. Please, don't stop. Let me." Her mouth went for his dick, her tongue lolling over his flesh. He shivered and let her. It felt good.