Page 27 of Dirty Shots

She finished the last mouthful of tiramisu and put her spoon down before leaning across the table to meet him. “So take me back to your place.”

His shoulders slumped and he sat back. “I can’t, Anya. That meeting I told you about is happening first thing tomorrow morning and I’ve still got work to do on my portfolio. Plus, I can’t afford to be exhausted—which I will be if I take you back with me. You have a wonderful habit of not letting me get much sleep.”

She tried not to show her disappointment, smiling brightly. “Oh, sure. I understand.”

“But tomorrow night,” he promised. “Are you busy? I feel like I’m dominating all of your time.”

That’s not the only thing you’re dominating,she thought but didn’t say, images of handcuffs and ropes dancing in her mind. She shook her head. “I’m not busy.”

“Great.”

Eric motioned Mateo over and paid the bill. Anya reached into her purse for her share, but he waved her down. “Don’t be crazy. It was my treat.”

They left the restaurant, stepping out onto the street. Night had fallen while they were eating, so now streetlights illuminated the way. Anya didn’t want the evening to end, hating that she hadn’t had her fix of him—at least not physically.

Fired by the wine, she grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him down into an alley which ran off the street the restaurant was on. He was so much bigger than she was, only that she’d taken him by surprise had allowed her to yank him off course.

“Anya!” he exclaimed.

She wound her arms around his neck, stepping into his body to press him up against the red brick wall of the adjoining building. “Shh,” she said, standing on tiptoes to press her mouth to his, silencing any protest. His breath tasted of pasta and coffee, and she knew her mouth must taste the same.

His hands found her hips, pulling her closer, and she felt the already hard length of him and marveled at how quickly she’d elicited that reaction.

“People could walk past at any moment.”

“So, let them.”

“Anya, this really isn’t—” But once more she stopped his mouth with her own, her tongue flicking against his with an urgency she wanted to rouse in him, too. She sensed him hesitate for a moment longer, then the tenseness of his body relaxed into her and he kissed her back, hard.

Anya groaned in pleasure and relief, knowing she’d gotten what she wanted. Still on tiptoes, she crushed her mound against the rapidly hardening erection in his pants, feeling like a wanton teenager simulating sex through their clothing. Somehow, knowing someone could catch them at any minute only heightened her arousal. Eric’s hands left her hip and reached beneath her sweater, cupping her breast through the lacy material of her bra, squeezing the nipple hard enough to send little shocks of pain through her. She wished they could take off her sweater and his shirt, and press her naked body against his, but that was taking things a little too far. It might have been spring, but the evenings were still cool, never mind the possibility of someone catching them naked. They would never be able to brush that off as just heavy petting.

Anya pulled away an inch and reached down between them to unzip his fly. She slipped her slender hand into the gap, feeling the hardness and the heat of him. He was too big for her to tug through the hole, so she used her other hand to yank open his belt and pop the top button, freeing him. Eric groaned as her hand massaged his cock in a firm, slow motion.

With sudden urgency, he reached down and yanked her skirt up, exposing her ass, and pulled her panties to one side. She was already wet, her underwear damp with her arousal, and roughly he pushed two fingers inside her.

They clung to each other, kissing with fierce passion. She broke the kiss to bury her face in his neck, panting, clinging to him with one hand while she masturbated him with the other.

“Oh, fuck.” He switched their positions, moving them around so she was the one with her back against the wall. He pulled his fingers from her, lifted her, with his other arm supporting her thighs. Eric positioned his cock at her slit, and with one hard movement, pushed inside her. She gasped and clung to him tighter, loving the way he filled her so completely. She buried her face in his neck, her mouth seeking his skin, her teeth digging into his flesh as he pounded into her, harder and harder. It was rough, ugly, brutal, with the dirt of the alley beneath their feet, the wall crumbling at her back with moss and soot. Where everything they’d done before had been related to beauty, this was fucking for the sheer act of fucking, both of them finding their release.

She cried out when she came, her pussy contracting around his cock, milking him. His thrusts grew more frantic, and then he jerked hard, once, twice, three times, releasing himself inside her.

They clung to each other, panting.

“Quick, my purse,” she gasped as she felt him softening inside her. “I need tissues.”

Eric snatched her purse from where she’d dropped it on the ground. They rearranged themselves, Anya lining her panties with some tissues to catch the mess. They laughed and grinned sheepishly at one another.

“Jesus, Anya. The things you make me do.”

She thought he would take her home with him now, to pour her some more wine and curl up with her on the couch, but instead he said, “I need to call you a cab.”

Her face must have dropped.

“I’m sorry, Anya. I did explain ...”

“Your work, I know.” She forced an understanding expression. “You have a meeting and your work is important.”

He gave a relieved smile. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Hey, I knew who you were before we got involved. The mysterious Eric Rutherford. Photographer extraordinaire.”

Even so, she felt bereft at not being able to spend the night with him. Her whole body had been yearning for him the entire day, and one quick fuck against a wall was not going to satisfy her. If he felt anything like she felt about him, he wouldn’t be able to do this, even for his work, but she guessed that work came first for Eric. Perhaps it always would.

Would she be able to handle that? Would she be able to live her life with a man who always treated her like second best?

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