The Dumb Fuck Page 2

  “No, I think I -.”

  Hiding her face under her hair, she frantically tried to reach down, pulling at her skirt. His fingers at the thin string of her thong halted her pushing and pulling. The heat of his hand on her – there, made her heart flutter. Sliding one finger under the bunched waistband, he pushed it down as far as it would go, exposing more of her thigh, causing the rest of the skirt to slip down lower on her waist. The entire top of her black thong was now exposed, she froze, then slowly raised her eyes to look at him.

  “Are you drunk?”

  Kneeling down to work at dislodge her skirt from the wheel, his eyes were glued to her now exposed, flat and toned stomach, along with her bikini bottom tan lines. Silently, she shook her head, he was so close that waves of her hair hit him softly in the face.

  “Not. I mean no. I’m stuck,” she replied in a breathy voice.

  When he laughed at her, warm puffs of his breath feathered over her skin, his hands groped the waist of the skirt again. A few tugs, and it slid down her body to the floor. She gasped, his blue eyes staring up at her, while her skirt lay puddled in a soft heap on the floor. She struggled to control her breathing.

  “You’re very different.”

  He spoke quietly, his face eye level with her waist. Her hair fluttered with her nodding head, her lips smashed together, knowing she should protest or run or scream, but her body was frozen. The air around them felt very thick, everything was in slow motion.

  “I know,” she replied, trying to think of something, anything else to say.

  There were many women her age she supposed who knew exactly how to gracefully extricate themselves from a situation like this – she, was not one of them. She should grab her skirt, find something to cover herself with, or run for the bathroom. But, she should not be standing in front of this man, with her skirt on the floor, wearing only a black thong and a tank.

  Silent, his eyes wandered slowly up to her breasts and then over her face, she was still frozen, unable to move.

  “Beach or pool?”

  He asked, reaching out, to trace a single, roughened finger over the contrasting skin of her bikini bottom tan line. His other hand glided to her hand, and she thought she might faint from the feel of his movements. With her hand gasped in his, he lifted both of their hands, her hand clutching Adam’s pen with a death grip.

  “Pen. Adams. On his desk,”

  Her voice came out just above a whisper.

  He examined the pen, holding her hand in his, up close to his mouth. So close to his beautiful lips.

  “He’s cheap. It’s just a fake,” he commented, his eyes meeting hers.

  The situation was so bizarre, she smothered a giggle.

  “What?”

  What was wrong with her, she was smarter than this. Yet here she stood, having an inane conversation about a pen, with a man she had just met, while standing in only her thong and tank.

  Walker set the pen carefully down on the desk, then his attention went right back to her. Waverly watched him stare at her, he was looking at her, examining her, so intently. She felt such an intense pull to him, not just physically, but everything about him seemed fascinating to her. And, this man, she had never met before, was looking at her like he knew every single thing about her, every secret she had ever had.

  Startled out of her thoughts by his hands moving to her waist Waverly jumped slightly. It was wrong to be here with him like this. She tried to think of her job, her dream job and career, the reason for all of her hard work over the last six years, but, focusing on that was so difficult when his beautiful, blue eyes were staring so intently into hers.

  He leaned his head forward, slowly his lips moved onto her neck, parting his lips so his tongue could touch her neck, his hand cradled her head, moving it just where he wanted. His lips licked and bit her possessively.

  Pulling back a few inches, he looked into her dazed eyes.

  “I want you,”

  After drifting down her neck, his fingers trailed over her body, back to her hips. Her skin warmed under his searching fingers. He was fully engrossed in watching the path his hand traveled, her eyes dropped to watch his hands. He wanted her, was that a question, or a statement, not sure how to respond, she nodded her head silently.

  “I know,” she finally whispered. With fingers flexed, his hands slowly moved around to her ass.

  Her impressive vocabulary had abandoned her. His hands smoothed and groped over her ass. Her hands dropped to the desk in front of her, she flattened them, now leaning over, she braced herself.

  “You’re scared. Are you going to run?” He taunted, leaning his body over hers, his head tucked in close to her ear, his breath causing wisps of her hair to flutter.

  “I can’t. You’re holding my ass,” she softly challenged, surprising herself by looking up, directly meeting his focused stare.

  Maybe it was the lateness, the copier fumes, maybe it was manliness of him – Way was rarely that bold. In her daydreams, maybe, but not in her real life. This man, Walker Rike, here with her, wanting her, touching her. Things like this didn’t happen to her, it just couldn’t be real. This man was overwhelming, he was just too much for her... A man like this couldn’t really want her?

  “Maybe I’ll keep you here whether you want to go or not.”

  “Maybe I want to stay,” she whispered. Was that for him or for her, she wasn’t sure.

  She hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t even realized that she thought it. But it was out there now, she couldn’t take it back, could she, did she even want to? Groaning at her words, his mouth dropped back to her neck. A low moan slipped out when she felt his tongue scrape over her skin, followed by his teeth. Her eyes closed, her head dropped back and his mouth took more from her.

  This is wrong. Stop. Run. You just met this guy. You’re at work. This is slutty. His mouth felt so good though, so warm and convincing, sliding up her jaw to rest at her ear.

  “Are you ready, because I’m going to bend you over this desk, and fuck you,” he growled at her, his voice rough and demanding.

  It scared her a little and excited her a lot, which scared her even more. Her fear propelled her, she balled her hands and pushed back against him.

  “Listen, asshole, I’m not going to... To... Do that, with you,” she replied, stuttering a little.

  Pulling his head back, his eyes narrowed at her, but his hands stayed on her ass, clutching and gripping, and squeezing.

  “Really? You’re standing here half naked, and I’ve got my hands all over your ass,” he pointed out, his eyes were blazing, but his voices stayed low and calm.

  Her fists pushed against him, as she shrieked in frustration.

  He chuckled at her, “You’re a tease? Have you even fucked a guy before?”

  Angry heat blazed across her face, a huff of breath escaped, her temper rose higher.

  “I wasn’t hitting on you, you followed me in here. You were hitting on me – probably because you can’t get anyone else to fuck you!”

  Yelling, she shoved him at his chest.

  How far would she have let him go? God, she was so embarrassed. No boy had never spoken to her, or touched her, the way this man had – it shocked her. Saying those things mad her made feel inexperienced, like a ditsy, little girl. Humiliation heated her face. Reaching for her skirt, she swiped at the tears starting to fall down her cheeks.

  “You were standing here in your little, hippie dippie outfit, your hair all crazy sexy, looking at me with your eyes all, ‘Oooh, I want you, I want you to fuck me’. You were hitting on me,”

  Trying to right the waist of her skirt with one hand, she wiped angrily at her eyes with the other.

  Taking a shaky breath, Waverly fought back.

  “God, you’re an idiot. You think every woman who walks into the room wants to have sex with you?”


  “And, you’re a fucking tease,” he snapped back at her. He stood immovable, as she tried to push past him to the office door.

  “Listen, dumbfuck, you’re ego is enormous. And, you’re an asshole,” she declared fisting both hands on her hips.

  He stood immovable in front of her, arms crossed defiantly.

  “You’re just a little girl, Hippy Dippy, not a woman,” he goaded her.

  She snorted at him, “Get. Over. Yourself! You tried, it didn’t work, Just let me...”

  Suddenly he grabbed her by the back of the neck, pulling her forward and slammed his mouth down onto hers. A yelp escaped, as she pushed back from his kiss. Holding the back of her head with both hands, he walked them backward, his tongue pushing still in her mouth.

  Holy shit, this man could kiss, was her only thought, and he did, he kissed like a man. At first, she struggled against him, but the deeper the kiss became, the more she melted into it. It, this, she felt slutty, but another part of her felt empowered in a good way.

  Angry is what she should be, and upset with his forcefulness. But his tongue in her mouth, felt so right, and his hands running over her, felt so good, her hands clutching his iron strong, broad shoulders felt so wonderful – it all made it hard to care right then that it was wrong.

  Waverly Amelia Matthews always cared. She cared about the environment, the homeless, her friends. She cared when nobody else did, not her mother, her father or her brothers. She cared about her reputation. She definitely should care, that this handsome, man had his tongue in her mouth and his hands all over her ass.

  Nope, still not caring.

  Sliding her tongue back into his mouth, she ran her hands up his chest pulling at his loosened tie. Running her hands under his shirt, pushing it up to feel more of him, touch more of his warm skin. Groaning into her mouth, he broke away long enough to yank off his tie and toss it to the floor, then his mouth was back on her. Not one boy had ever kissed her like this. Not one boy had ever touched her this way, made her feel this way.

  She loved it.

  “Feels like it’s working now,” Walker growled, as his tongue licked up her neck, his teeth biting, as he maneuvered them closer to the desk.

  She gasped when his hands covered and squeezed her breasts. He chuckled at her when his movements drew a moan from her.

  “It’s not. I need to leave,” Way whispered sighing, scratching her nails up his chest to his shoulders.

  “You’re not leaving,” he answered, sliding one hand down her stomach and under her skirt. His fingers lightly brushed over the front of her.

  “I’ll do what I -,” his hand pushed skirt low enough that it slowly slid down her legs until it dropped to the floor.

  “What I say,” he mumbled into her mouth.

  “What I want,” his hand sliding into her panties.

  These feelings he was causing were too good to fight against.Eyes squeezed shut, she pressed her lips together, nodding her head.

  “Yes. OK,” she finally breathed, rocking slightly side to side.

  His fingers slid and smoothed, over her, into her.

  “Still want to leave,” he taunted.

  “I can’t. I don’t...”

  Gasping, her hands clutched at him, pulling at handfuls of his shirt. To get more of him, more of what he was doing to her.

  “You do. I can feel you, wet for me.”

  His mouth made a soft, slow descent down the front of her neck.

  He was right, it was true. She did want him, desperately, like she had never wanted anything before. What he was doing to her, his fingers, his mouth, he had made her want him, what he offered. Sex. Sex, not in a bed, or in the dark with the lights off, not sweet and not soft. No boy had ever made her feel this. This need to feel him, inside her, over her, surrounding her, with his demanding body.

  Moving his hands to her waist, he positioned her back to him, his hands began tugging her tank top up, hurrying to remove it. It caught in her hair, large chunks twisted up in the strap, tangled around her neck and partially over her face. At least there was something the man didn’t do perfectly.

  “Stop. What are you doing?”

  She gasped at the twinge of pain, her hands releasing the desk, helping him pull the tank free from her head and hair, finally free it went up and over her head, her hair flying everywhere.

  “You in a minute,” he replied, throwing her tank over his shoulder.

  With a blank mind, she looked back over her shoulder, up at him. With his eyes focused on his searching hands at the clasp of her bra, without stopping, he raised them to her, their eyes locked. His dark blue eyes narrowed burning into hers.

  He turned her back to him, then he dropped his eyes to her breasts, she was wearing a bra, but a very skimpy one, barely anything, so no lines showed under her tank. Waverly, just wasn’t one of those girls who could not wear a bra under her tank. It made her uncomfortable and she cared what people thought when they looked at her.

  Walker was looking at her right now. He reached out his finger and ran it over her swollen top lip, then dragged that callused fingertip straight down her neck, between her breasts to the bottom of her bra and then circled it around to her back. Her nipples tightened and she looked up into his eyes. Walker unhooked her bra and then quickly dragged his hand down to her thong and slid it down her legs. Down to the floor.

  She didn’t move, other than to look down and see her thong lying on the floor by her feet.

  Walker turned her quickly, bending over her to take each of her hands in each of his and placed them down on the desk. Leaning forward over the desk, his body intimately spread over the entire length of her. The feel of him was huge and hot and hard and she felt wet and ready. She squirmed against him, his skin moving against hers felt so sensual. Her movements caused his erection to press snugly into her ass, enticing her. Trying to raise the top half of her body up closer to him, she pushed her hands on the desk, but that only pushed her ass further into his erection.

  “Stop moving until I tell you to, Hippie Girl,” he commanded.

  Falling forward, her breath became labored, now bent almost in half over the desk. His hands began sliding slowly up her back, around to cup her breasts, toying briefly with her nipples, and then slowly back down, all the way down, moving one finger inside her, then two fingers inside of her.

  “Damn, so tight!”

  Gulping in a breath, she didn’t make a sound, she could feel him - his erection, right there. Ready to push inside of her. Everything was moving so fast, but every one of his movements on her body, in slow motion. Then he pushed inside of her, all of him, totally filling her, fully pressed up against her.

  This was the sex everyone talked about, the hot sex, the raw sex, fucking. Waverly had only ever had sex with two guys. That was it. Until now. Sex with a man, this man, was totally unlike those experiences. In a good way, in a powerful way.

  Walker growled, pulling out and then pushing roughly back into her again. ”Goddamn, Hippie you’re so fucking hot.”

  How did she let this happen? Having sex with this man she didn’t even know. This man, Walker, whom she didn’t even know who was now talking dirty to her, while he was inside of her – and she liked it.

  Her body took over, as she moaned and whimpered. Pushing herself back, into him as he pushed in then out, the feel of him fierce and tempting. Rougher faster, over and over. She let her head hang her hair falling all around her face like a curtain. He kept pushing in and pulling out. She couldn’t even think as he gripped her hips, digging in bruisingly. Then he was pulling out of her. Then pounding into her. Pull. Pound. In. Out. This was why Jamie let Adam visit every night. This was why she heard the sounds from her room when he visited. Because it felt so amazing. Waverly was a good girl. She had sex with two boys, the two had been boyfriends, the had sex had been soft and quiet, in the da
rk, missionary style. It had been sweet, not dark, not nice – not like this. This was fucking.

  “This is so wrong,” she was panting now.

  His hand slid roughly up to circle her neck, pulling it back into him. Up on her toes, she had to arch her back to rest her head on his shoulder.

  “This is right. Want me to stop?”

  Pausing his movements, pressing his face to the side of hers, his breath scorched her skin. Her hair flew as she shook her head wildly.

  “Don’t, don’t stop.”

  His breathing quickened again, his head next to hers, whispering roughly in her ear, but not letting go of his hold on her hair.

  “Fuck, look at you. So hot,” he groaned into her

  “What? Me?” She managed to get out between thrusts, The loss of him inside oh shocked her.

  “So hot, fuck,” Walker rumbled, pulling out of her, then spinning her around to face him, his fingers digging roughly into her arms.

  “Wait, wait, are we done?”

  “Fuck no,” he growled, and then he was kissing her, deep, lots of tongue pushing in and out, over and over.

  She knew she should be offended by his talking, by his handling of her. She wanted to be offended. But she wasn’t. If anything, it made her hotter. Did he talk to everyone that way? No one had ever spoken to Waverly during sex like that before - she liked it. She whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his coarse thick hair.

  “Okay,” she whispered, kissing him back.

  Their kisses became desperate, needy, sloppy. She couldn’t get enough of him and he couldn’t get enough of his tongue in her mouth.

  His head bent forward, licking and biting her neck, his thrusts into her had picked up, and then his hand was sliding between their bodies, his fingers sliding over her hot and rough, back and forth.

  Calling out his name over and over, her head burrowing into his shoulder as she came around him. With her body still trembling, she felt him tense drawing her closer, surrounding and enveloping her completely. He let out a low groan and she could feel him coming...

  As both of their bodies slowed to stillness again, Waverly lifted her head and blinked her eyes, looking over his shoulder. She looked into the reflection of the framed art hanging over Adam’s desk.