Page 35 of Playing With My Heart Strings

baylor

Taking a Risk

I’m walking down the hallway of the production studio to head to my “confessional” interview, as Colette likes to call it, when I’m suddenly yanked into one of the storage closets.

“What the—” My elbows are locked and loaded when a large hand covers my mouth.

“Shhh,” Dusty whispers in my ear.

I rip his hand off my mouth and spin around to face him. “What are you doing here? We’re going to get caught,” I hiss.

“I’m making up for the other night. And we won’t get caught if you’re quiet.” He winks, and then his lips are on mine, greedy and wanting. Frantic.

I kiss him back, our tongues tangling as he hooks his arms under my thighs and lifts. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me further into the closet, setting me on a random desk flush against the back wall.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, his lips only millimeters from mine.

“You just saw me yesterday.” I pull back to look up at him.

“That’s too long when it comes to you.”

“What about the others? There are still four other women here, you can’t be missing me that much,” I tease, running my fingers through his hair, despite the growing pit in my stomach at the idea he could be sneaking around with them, too.

“Don’t talk about them. They don’t hold a candle to you. Not now, not before, not ever.” He presses his forehead against mine.

My legs are still wrapped around his waist, and his fingers draw lazy circles up and down my arm.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I challenge, and that’s all he needs for a fire to light behind his eyes.

“Arms up,” he orders, and I lift them to give him access to pull my shirt off before he unclasps the hooks of my bra. He takes in the sight of me. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

I don’t say anything as I grasp the cotton of his T-shirt and pull it over his head, revealing his chest and toned stomach.

“We need to be quick,” I say. “They’re expecting me for an interview.”

“The last thing I want is for our first time to be quick, but we can do that. Later I get to have you for as long as I want, though. Deal?”

He looks me in the eye as if waiting for an answer, so I nod.

“Take these off.” He grabs the hem of my jeans before running his hands down my legs. He kneels, placing the tip of my right shoe on his knee before undoing the straps on my sandal to take it off. Then he repeats with the left side.

When he’s done, I pull my jeans off, letting them fall to the floor, leaving me only in my underwear.

Dusty stands and hooks his index fingers in the waistband, slowly removing my panties, leaving me naked on the desk.

“You have no idea how badly I want to taste you right now, but I know you have to go, so that will have to wait. But trust me, I will be taking my sweet time savoring you later,” he groans as he rakes his eyes up and down my body.

“Please,” I whisper.

That’s all it takes for him to undo his belt buckle and jeans. He pulls them down to his ankles, along with his boxers, letting his erection spring free.

He pulls me to the edge of the desk with one arm, using the other to pump his cock.

I gasp as he runs a finger up my entrance, stopping to rub my clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, Baylor.” Stopping for a moment to reach down, he grabs a condom.

He rips it open with his teeth then hands the silver package to me. “Do the honors, baby.”

I carefully take the condom out of the packaging and move to put it on him when he reaches forward again, plunging a finger inside me.

“Oh, God,” I moan, fumbling as my hand tightens around his cock. “Dusty…”

He smiles as he removes his finger, allowing me to catch my breath and slide the condom on. Dusty wastes no time, lining himself up with me and slowly pushing in, filling me.

“Good?” He’s not moving, just waiting for me to respond.

Meanwhile, I’m craving his touch, his movement. “Yes. Move, Dusty, please.” My tone is desperate, pleading.

He does what I ask, thrusting deep inside, causing my walls to tighten around him. But it’s not fast enough, not hard enough. I want more of him. No, need more of him.

I grasp his shoulder hard enough that I know my nails will leave a mark and try to pull him even closer, my legs wrapped around him.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is low and husky.

“I want you to fuck me hard. Don’t hold back,” I whisper in his ear before nibbling on it, sending a shiver up his body.

“As you wish.”

And he doesn’t hold back. He places his hands under my ass, squeezing as he lifts me off the desk and drives into me repeatedly. The sounds of skin on skin and our tandem breaths fill the room as I climb closer and closer to my high.

“I-I’m going to come, please don’t stop,” I moan before I bury my face in his shoulder.

“I’m almost there,” he rasps, never slowing his pace, even when he lowers his head to latch onto my nipple and sucks.

The sensation combined with the tip of his cock hitting my G-spot is overpowering, and a wave of pleasure rolls over me.

My head rolls back with my orgasm, and I feel Dusty’s cock twitch as he finishes with me.

He kisses me gently, pushing a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “There. Now you’re extra glowy for the camera.”

“Oh, thanks.” I playfully roll my eyes. “I’m sure the viewers will love that.”

“Don’t worry, baby. No one will even suspect that you just got fucked in a supply closet.” He kisses me on the cheek before taking care of the used condom and helping me get dressed.

“Okay, I have to go for real.” I laugh as he steals another kiss. “They’re going to be suspicious.”

“Find me later tonight, okay?”

“I will. Now, let me go,” I tease as I steal one last glance and open the supply closet door. The hallway is clear, so I smooth out any wrinkles and take a deep breath.

Damn, that man sure knows what he’s doing.

“Baylor! There you are, where have you been?” Daniella’s tight grip on my arm breaks me out of my trance when I walk into the room where my interview is taking place.

“Sorry, I got…er…caught up doing something.” I’m a horrible liar. Always have been. Especially when it comes to Dani.

She lowers her voice. “You smell like sex and your shirt is on inside out. Come on.” She pulls me away from the film crew into a dressing room.

“Here. You need this.” She hands me a bottle of perfume, and I spray a small amount on my wrists and neck.

She hands me a new shirt next, because apparently I hadn’t smoothed out my clothes enough.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“You’re welcome. Speaking as a publicist, you’re taking a risk. But as your best friend, you know I want all of the details later.” She grins and sends me back out to the confessional room.