Page 4 of Good Girls Like it Dirty
Chapter Two
Zaine closed the gap between them. A part of him warned him to be cautious, but the rest of him disagreed. When he’d seen her working at the dinner party, he didn’t flinch and walked over to talk with her. His intention to make things nice and give them a clean slate disintegrated the instant he’d approached her. Screw the high road. And screw the repercussions.
For the last few months—even while married—his life had been a hazy blur of continuing motion: he worked, made money, exercised, tried not to think about the gap separating him and his then-wife. Then, after Ashley left, the new post-breakup lifestyle overwhelmed him. A few women had invited him for drinks, but he’d been in no mood for a rebound romance and declined their offers. He hadn’t been ready to get to know anyone, to share first date conversations and be charming. Not yet.
“Meet me in the bathroom upstairs,” Monique said in a voice above a whisper.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He let go of her elbow and glanced around them to ensure no one had witnessed their intimate exchange. To his satisfaction, the guests faced the other way, and judging from their natural body language and scattered chuckles, they probably hadn’t noticed anything. By the time he’d turned to face her again, Monique was gone.
Fuck. What had he done? He discreetly strode up the stairs. As he was a longtime family friend, anyone would assume the downstairs bathrooms were occupied and he was heading to the second floor to use another one. Or maybe he’d wanted to appreciate the brand-new paintings Doug kept bragging about.
He’d worry about an excuse later—if needed.
Now the only thing he wanted was to bang the hot French maid. Who cared if it sounded clichéd or wrong? There was nothing wrong about her devilish grin or the way she looked at him. She sent him sinful signs he didn’t dare ignore.
His body throbbed with need, his every cell fully alert as to what he had planned to do. His internal clock had regressed a good twenty years. If he didn’t make it to the bathroom soon enough, he’d explode.
The door was closed, and he knocked twice. She opened it, and he entered without delay. She launched herself at him, and he slammed her against the wall. A decorative vase of flowers fell to the floor and broke, but she chuckled instead of fussing. Determined, he dipped his head and captured her lips in his. She opened her mouth, compliant, warm, and willing. The moment his tongue stroked hers, a wave of primal arousal washed over him. He trembled, in pre-orgasmic fashion, and intensified the kiss, resolute to explore that sassy mouth of hers.
“Oui, oui,” she whispered, and moaned. The sexiest sound he’d ever heard. He wanted to record it.
“You’re so fucking hot. Jesus. I’m almost coming,” he said. If she wanted him to last she’d have to slow the fuck down.
“Me too. Touch me.”
Slowing down wasn’t in the cards. He slid his hand down the boring uniform. Knowing Paula like he did, she’d probably chosen the plainest dress to minimize Monique’s curves. He palmed her DD-cup breasts, earning another whimper from her lips. To shut her up, he fused his mouth with hers again, and this time, she grinded against him, showing him how much she needed his tongue, his hand, and soon, his dick.
When he reached between her thighs, he felt the heat seeping through the fabric before he even touched her intimately. She arched against him, and he hiked up her dress and pulled down her G-string. The sensual scent of female arousal swirled into his nostrils and he breathed it in.
He slid a finger into her soaking wet pussy, and she gasped.
“God, you’re soaked, Monique. Is this all for me? This drenched cunt?”
She quivered. “Y-yes, Monsieur. All for you,” she said, her voice wavering.
He parted her slick folds, adding two more fingers. She arched herself into him, obviously so, so ready for more, for all he wanted to give her. This woman was pure dynamite under his touch. “I’ll take it all, do you understand? I’m going to touch you until you come, then suck your naughty pussy until you cream on my face. Then I’ll fuck it so good you’ll go crazy, honey.”
“Mon Dieu.” She clenched her thighs around his hand. She rode his hand like it was his rod, grinding it breathlessly. He flicked her clit while thrusting his fingers in and out of her, curling his index against her G-spot, driving her crazy for him. She grabbed his collar with both hands, and he felt a surge of her pearly essence dripping on his hand when she moaned into his ear and started to shake. “Yes. Yes…”
She quivered in his arms, and he kissed her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyes. A strange wave of affection washed over him, even though he barely knew her. She gave herself to him so freely and unconditionally; sometimes couples that had known each other for decades didn’t share this immediate, raw, insane chemistry.
The sound of a knock on the door almost made him jump. Shit.
She stiffened in his arms, and when he stepped back he noticed the shade of pink coloring her face, the sweat glistening over her forehead. She looked freshly fucked even if he hadn’t been lucky to take care of her the way she deserved. But he would—hell yeah, he would. He gestured for her to be quiet, and while she composed herself behind him, he opened the door a fraction.
A teenaged boy, probably friends with Paula and Doug’s sixteen-year-old son, stood in front of the door, eyes glued to his cell phone. He texted faster than a lot of people jogged.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well,” Zaine told him, touching his stomach to sound more convincing.
The blond teen looked up and nodded. “Ugh, no worries, dude. Feel better.”
“Thank you,” he said, and closed the door behind him. Let the teenager find any other bathroom in the huge house. When he turned to her, she gave him a half smile.
“It’s time for me to go,” she said, her voice steady. A couple of strands strayed from the ponytail, and she tucked the rebellious pieces of hair behind her ears. His fingers itched to mess it all over again. “I’m sure they’ll be wondering where I’ve been.”
“Can I see you later?” he asked without an ounce of shame. There was no going back; he needed to have her.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Won’t it be too late for a full meal? I’d hate for you to get sick from a midnight feast.”
