Nice and Naughty Read online

  Nice and Naughty

  A Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe Tale

  By

  Mia Jae

  Copyright © 2008, Mia Jae

  Published November 2008

  by

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  Edgewater, Florida

  All rights reserved

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  “Dinner?”

  Cassandra Franklin glanced at her computer screen then back to her work. Not tonight. No time. She stared down at the grant proposal she was editing. It was due next week in D.C. and there was something not quite right about the purpose of need section.

  Dammit.

  She had to get this right. Her department depended on the funding this grant would provide. This cycle the competition was stiff and it made her extremely nervous. As the new head of the English department at Compton University, she was responsible. And vulnerable. This was her year to prove herself.

  She’d be damned if she’d let anything get in her way.

  The white instant messenger box popped up on her screen again.

  “I know you are there. Working late. You need a life, sweetheart.”

  Except, maybe, that.

  Ignore him. He had no clue whether she was at work or not. Besides, he wasn’t even a real person. He was just a name behind a little white box.

  She clicked the X to make the messenger go away. Instead of looking back to her proposal, however, she stared out the window. Icy flakes of snow pelted the glass. Perhaps they would have a white Christmas, after all. Unusual for this southern college town. The night behind them was black as pitch. She was here way too late but what could she do?

  Bing. This time the box came with sound. She jerked back.

  “C’mon, professor. Get a life. Come out to play.”

  Shit. She didn’t even really know the man and he knew her better than most of her friends. She did need a life.

  “It’s Christmas,” he added. “Have some fun. Be festive. Ho-ho-ho.”

  Bah humbug.

  Sighing, Cassie maximized the box on the screen, then placed her hands on the keyboard and clicked beside her screen name, SexyProf. “I’m not at work.” She typed the lie and hit send.

  Pause.

  A second later the space at the bottom of the box read: kittylicker is typing.

  Kittylicker. What a screen name. She waited for his response.

  “Sure you are. Your office light is on.”

  Something panged inside her. He knew where her office was? She sat up straighter and typed furiously. “You’re a liar.”

  “LOL,” he replied. “Touché.”

  Cassie sighed and relaxed, sitting back in her chair. Last thing she needed was for kittylicker to actually know who she was.

  “Let me take you to dinner.”

  She shook her head. They had been down this road before. “No. We’ve already discussed this. No face-to-face.”

  “L” Then he started typing again. “Tell me what you want.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know. Tell me.”

  “I don’t want anything.”

  “Now you are a liar.”

  Cassie huffed out a breath.

  “I know what you like, sexyprof.”

  Again, she heaved a sigh. She’d been working all day on this proposal and was bone weary. Last thing she needed was to stare at this computer screen any longer. But this was different, wasn’t it?

  “Shit,” she said softly. “I’m so addicted…”

  Rising, she stepped to her office door and locked it, extinguished the overhead light, then went to the window and adjusted the blinds so they were fully closed. Only the desk lamp and the computer screen lit the room now.

  Bing!

  Bing!

  “Hold on. Sheesh…”

  “Say it,” he urged. She could almost feel the whoosh of his words against her cheek, like he was whispering in her ear.

  Her fingers paused over the keyboard. “You say it. Tell me what I like.”

  “No.”

  Fuck. He was going to make her do this. “Lick my pussy.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “No you didn’t. Say it again. Tell me.”

  Her breathing came in shorter pants. “I want you to lick my pussy,” she typed, and then added, “please.”

  He did not type back. “Don’t make me wait, you bastard,” she hissed. Then the words came.

  “Your panties off?”

  “Hold on.” Cassie stood and hiked her slim suit skirt up and slipped her bikini panties and hose to her ankles, then kicked them off under her desk. “Yes,” she typed.

  “Put your legs up on the desk. Spread them.”

  Cassie shoved stacks of research manuals and journals aside, one long leg on each side her keyboard. Her skirt was hiked to her waist now, her bare bottom against the slick oak desk chair, which she had now tipped back comfortably.

  “You touching yourself?”

  She was. Almost.

  Reaching into her desk drawer, she pulled out a small bottle of lube and squirted some on her clit. Shit, that was cold.

  “Yes,” she typed. “Eat my pussy please.” She wasn’t going to be able to type much now…

  “My tongue is flicking your clit.”

  Cassie worked her nimble fingers over her swollen nub while she read what he was typing.

  “Sweet, baby you taste good.”

  “Lick harder,” she said out loud.

  Her fingers slipped in and out of her wet hole. “Oh, damn,” she breathed. Her butt scooted closer to the edge of the chair.

  “I’m putting my tongue in. Deep. Lapping up your juice.”

  Cassie pinched her clit and then reached inside her shirt to squeeze a nipple.

  “So fucking wet.”

  “yeah…” She typed with one hand. Tension built inside her.

  “Baby, I love to eat you. Come for me babe…”

  “Yes,” she said cried out. She was close. Oh, so close. Her eyes were closed now, her head lolled to the side. “Yes, baby… eat me.” This was not going to take long.

  Warmth and sensation built under her fingertips, and from somewhere in the background she heard a series of bings but she didn’t need to know what he was saying. Didn’t care. The fantasy was all in her head at this point. His tongue inside her, his teeth gnawing at her pussy. His chin raking against her asshole…

  Oh, shit!

  Cassie convulsed with pleasurable extortion, her hand working wildly over her clit and lips, her head falling back, and then slowing, massaging until she returned to the world of the living.

  Bing!

  Bing!

  “You coming on my tongue?”

  “Yes, baby. I came all over your face.”

  “Ah sweeeeeeeeet. I love that.”

  She exhaled again. “Yeah,” she typed and then closed the messenger box.

  * * * *

  The black dress would have to do; there was no time for shopping. Cassie turned to the left, then right, and looked over her shoulder to study her backside. The ten pounds she’d lost since taking on the new position at the college actually looked good on her. The dress fit better than it had in years. Secretly,
she was thankful that the ten pounds were gone, even though it wasn’t an intentional effort.

  Stress could do strange things to a body.

  But tonight, she’d relax. She had no choice. The annual President’s Christmas party was a mandatory event. So, she’d go, make some social time and earn points.

  Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered. Was it that important to her to suck up to the good old boys?

  Didn’t matter. She’d have some wine. Some cheese. A conversation or two with her cronies. Some major ass-kissing to Mrs. Cummings, the president’s wife, by acknowledging the gawd-awful bacon-oyster hors d’oeuvres she served every year.

  And then home to work on the proposal.

  She fingered a pair of pearl earrings in her jewelry box. “These will go nicely. The necklace, too.” After donning the pearls, she slipped into a pair of berry-red come-fuck-me pumps, then grabbed a red pashmina shawl and tossed it over her shoulders. A car horn honked outside. She moved to the front door and grasped her black bag off the entry table. After locking up, she left her condo for what she hoped was a quick appearance and a hasty escape.

  Terrible waste of a sexy dress and fuck-me heels, but what the hell, she had work to do. Tonight was all business. Her reputation as a new department head was at stake.

  Especially since she was the first female head of the English department—ever.

  Her thoughts drifted as the cabbie drove the few miles to the president’s home. For the first time in her thirty-some odd years of living, she was relieved there was no man in her life. She had no time for a regular relationship. Too much work. Men screwed with her head, anyway. Life was easier this way.

  Besides, she had kittylicker whenever she needed him.

  Hm. Perhaps she’d have to explore similar options. Kittylicker was fine, but why stop at one secret lover? She could have all she wanted, couldn’t she? As long as it didn’t interfere with her everyday life, there was no problem.

  Ah, but that was the kicker. Secret anonymous lovers could be consuming. She’d simply have to be in control. Even though she didn’t need a regular man in her life, that didn’t mean she intended to give up sex. This cyber-sex thing was safe and anonymous. In a pinch, it worked for her.

  The spontaneity of it fit her, too.

  The cab came to a halt, drawing her attention to her task at hand. Smiling and satisfied, she glanced at the stately downtown home before her. All lit up for the holidays, it looked too festive for her mood.

  Oh well, she’d get through it.

  She paid the man and gave him a hefty tip. “You have a card?” she asked. “I may want to leave this joint early and quick. You work in the area?”

  “Yes ma’am.” He handed her his business card. She smiled and left.

  After an hour of chit-chat and obligatory scholarly banter, Cassie stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and moved toward an open doorway. The room beyond was dark, and she assumed, off-limits. She stopped short of entering, and decided to prop herself against the doorframe for a second or two while she surveyed the lay of the land. It seemed as good a place as any to plan her covert get-away.

  She sipped at her Pinot Noir and eyed the crowd. She’d managed to avoid the hostess quite nicely after the initial hello, a fact that she was thankful for. The crowd before her spanned several decades of scholarly intellect that for some reason, she was oddly indifferent to.

  Did she really belong here? Perhaps in her desire to move to the head of the pack, she had ignored her unexpected disappointment when she’d finally secured her place at the top of this particular food chain.

  “Is this really me?” she whispered.

  “Well, if not you, then who?”

  Chapter Two

  Cassie turned, the hairs on the back of neck standing alert, and jumped at the pressure of a hand resting on her shoulder. She started to squeal until that hand clamped over her mouth and a strong arm grasped her about the waist, dragging her into the room.

  She was crowded up against a wall in the dark room, the door fully closed now behind her. Some sort of odd rendition of Santa Claus is Coming to Town sounded from far away. A streetlight outside provided enough light to see the profile of her assailant, who was close. Very close.

  “Wh—wh—what are you doing?” she finally huffed out.

  “Saving you from a night of boredom.”

  The voice.

  Familiar.

  “Who…?”

  “Oh, come now, Cassie. You don’t recognize me?”

  She relaxed. “Eric?”

  “One in the same, sweetheart.”

  She pushed at his chest and he backed away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing scaring me like that?” Eric Marsh was in her department. English Lit 101, 202, Genre Writing, and Shakespeare. Yeah, weird combination, but he was good at what he did. Essentially, she was his superior.

  But that hadn’t stopped the heated eye contact between them recently, the lingering touches and the occasional opportunities to crowd up against each other.

  “Like I said. Saving your ass. Mrs. Cummings was on her way.”

  “Crap. Then I definitely owe you my thanks.” She collapsed onto a sofa. “What is this? Some sort of sun room?” She liked all the windows. The Christmas candles on the sill added a cozy ambiance.

  He sat beside her and took the wine glass out of her hand. “Let me take that before you spill it everywhere.” He set it on a nearby table.

  She looked at him. “Why would I spill it?”

  He didn’t immediately answer, but let his gaze linger over her body. Suddenly, Cassie felt naked. “Because both our hands are going to be busy in a minute.”

  Cassie arched a brow. “Oh?”

  He edged closer, nuzzling her neck. Damn. He smelled wonderful and that was not a good sign. “Eric…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Bad idea. I’m your boss.”

  Ignoring her, he nipped at her neck. “I feel a little wicked. Will you spank me if I’m naughty, boss?” He slipped his hand between her thighs. “You have panties on?”

  “Eric…” Her resolve was slowing fading. His large hand felt rather incredible. “I’m not into relationships right now.”

  He nibbled at her ear. “I’m already in a relationship,” he replied. “Sort of. Half in, half out… But at this moment I’m only about tonight.”

  His fingers moved closer to her crotch. Involuntarily, she slid forward on the sofa. He was in a relationship? Good. She didn’t want him stalking her doorstep or pining after her. She couldn’t handle a boyfriend right now. But sex? That was something else.

  “The party,” she croaked out.

  “Yeah. We might get caught. Fun, huh?” His forefinger grazed her pussy. “You minx. No panties.”

  She should get up from here right now. “Don’t like panties with the garter…”

  “Umm… I like that. You want it naughty or nice?”

  With those words, he slid two fingers into her vagina. His thumb found her clit and began a slow and sultry massage.

  Cassie’s legs spread. “Um… nice and naughty is good...”

  “Oh, baby. You’re so wet. I do like that.”

  She moaned. “Eric, if you ever breathe a word of this…”

  He moved to the floor between her knees, still rotating his fingers in and out of her. “I never kiss and tell.”

  “Do you fuck and tell?”

  He pulled out, and then pushed her dress up around her waist and grasped her hips to pull her to the edge of the sofa. “Never fuck and tell,” he said softly. “Or suck and tell, either.” He spread her legs wide and smoothed his palms over her mound, moving to her inner thighs. “Oh, baby, you smell so good.” Then he hooked each leg over his shoulders. “Is Santa ever gonna cum tonight…”

  He went down on her. Cassie’s head fell back against the sofa as his velvet tongue moved over her pussy lips. He spread her further apart with his fingertips, giving him full access to her center. He
tongue-fucked her, the long length rapidly moving in and out. Then he licked, like a cat lapping at milk, from her ass to her clit. Finally, he settled there, circled her swollen nub, flicked and sucked, while her fingers curled into his hair, holding him tight against her.

  “Oh, God…” she breathed, heat building beneath his tongue. “Lick me. Harder.”

  Laughter went up right outside the door and she jerked with an erotic response, a decadent zinging sensation that crowded her head and brain, and settled in her pelvis. She panted, her excitement building as the voice outside the door grew louder.

  Eric grasped her legs and pulled her closer, holding her still against his mouth. She couldn’t move if she tried. And didn’t want to.

  Would they be caught?

  She convulsed with the anticipation. Eric sucked harder, driving her crazy.

  Her thighs quivered.

  He lapped and flicked faster.

  “Ah!” She tried not to cry out, biting her lip. She jerked forward, curling toward Eric, still latched onto her body and licking ferociously. She groaned and shook, and finally, he slowed. She lay back against the sofa, her body open and exposed like a rag doll as Eric lifted his head, and then gently massaged.

  “Dammit,” she whispered.

  Eric chuckled and rose to his feet. Leaning over, he kissed her thoroughly. She could taste her juices on his mouth. He took her hand. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

  “I can’t stand.”

  “Sure you can. I’ll take care of you.”

  He pulled her to her feet and straightened her dress around her hips. “Do you have everything you need?”

  She nodded. She’d kept her pashmina and purse with her, aiming for that quick getaway. He led her to the door. “I’m taking you home.” Before they opened it, however, he turned to kiss her once more, then whispered in her ear. “Once is not going to be enough.”

  Then hastily, he opened the door and brazenly led her through the house and into the cold night. She prayed her face was not flushed. Outside, the crisp air felt heavenly on her hot cheeks, and for some odd reason, only heightened the fact that she had just been thoroughly tongue-fucked.