The Bet by Max Monroe
Sophie
“Damn, baby, you look good all dressed up for work,” Jude says the instant I step foot into his apartment. “Like a fuckhot librarian or something.”
I glance down at my cream silk blouse and formfitting blush pencil skirt and jacket and laugh.
But also, I’m too inquisitive to see what Jude’s apartment looks like not to shift my focus and walk around his place a little.
It’s big. Bigger than mine. Clean, sophisticated, and minimalist in style, the smartly decorated space matches him to a T. It’s a bachelor pad, so to speak, but it’s also very cozy.
In the living room, there’s a plush velvet sectional with big cushy pillows that sits in front of a large flat-screen TV. A couple pieces of art hang on the walls. And the coffee table has a few sports magazines and newspapers scattered across it.
“Your place is really nice,” I comment just as he comes up behind me and places both of his big hands on my ass. He gently squeezes the flesh through my skirt, and the rush of arousal it provides between my thighs is undeniable.
“Not as nice as this ass of yours.”
I glimpse over my shoulder to find him smirking down at me.
“Did your assistant get pissed when you told her you had to leave to go ride a stallion?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Oh…was I supposed to say stallion? I told her it was a pony.”
“Don’t fuck around, babe. Your legs aren’t even straight anymore.”
I laugh. “Okay, Mr. Stallion, sir. No, she wasn’t mad. But she said she’d be mad if I didn’t get my ass back to NoMo in an hour.”
“Sounds like we’re on a deadline then, huh?”
I nod. “Precisely.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m prepared,” he says and moves his hands to my shoulders and presses his now-hard cock against my ass.
My eyes fall shut of their own accord, and a shiver runs up my spine. “That’s a very good thing.”
And next thing I know, Jude is spinning me around and tossing me over his shoulder.
I squeal at the change in position, but he just chuckles and strides out of his living room, down a medium-sized hallway, until he’s carrying me into what appears to be his bedroom.
It seems nice from my upside-down view, but I don’t have time to get a good look at it because once my back is on the mattress, Jude’s body is hovering over mine and his lips are persistent against my mouth.
“Fuck, I’m glad you got out of work for an hour,” he whispers in between deep kisses.
Me too.
My skirt and panties hit the floor just before Jude’s jeans and boxers do the same. And it’s not long before he’s lying on his back, lifting my body over his hips, and filling me up. His blue eyes glaze over with pleasure as his big hands reach up to grip my breasts.
“Oh God. That feels so good.” I moan, my head falls back, and I match my hips’ rhythm with each of his deep thrusts.
“Yeah, baby. That’s it. Ride me. Take your pleasure.”
And just like all the times before, I follow his command, riding him until I can’t hold myself up any longer. It’s a shockingly short time before the waves of my climax take hold of every single nerve inside my body and I’m falling down onto his chest.
“Oh, sweet Sophie,” he murmurs into my ear as his hands reach out to slide a few pieces of hair away from my eyes. “It’s always so fucking good with you.”
Truthfully, it’s borderline scary how right those words are.
As I hurriedly walk the three blocks back to NoMo, I run my hands down my skirt several times, hoping like hell I don’t look like a woman who just begged off work for an hour to go have sex.
Even though, yeah, I am that woman.
When I step in through the main doors and make my way into the Crenshaw wedding’s reserved room, I’m happy to find that nothing looks out of order. The bride and groom are happily dancing with their guests to the DJ’s approved playlist. My assistant’s forehead vein still hasn’t made a debut. And nothing is on fire.
Once Julie makes eye contact with me from across the room, she walks toward me, waggling her eyebrows like a weirdo.
“Everything go…orgasmically, boss?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have told her as much as I did about why I needed to be MIA for an hour. I mean, I could’ve just said I had diarrhea or something.
“Everything okay here?” I ask, redirecting the conversation to less-risky territories.
“Oh yeah, our bride has consumed enough champagne that she didn’t notice when the extra desserts came out about fifteen minutes later than she wanted. So, my little sex fiend friend, I can confidently report that all is good in the wedding hood.”
“Oh my God,” I groan. “Shut up.”
She laughs and nudges me playfully with her elbow. “So…I’m not trying to be nosy or anything, but it feels like a good sign that your mystery guy is inviting you over to his place for hot hooky sex right after he took you to Vegas on a whim. I mean, are you sure this isn’t turning into something more? Because, to me, it’s kind of seeming like it…”
“Not trying to be nosy?” I retort. “You’re definitely being nosy.”
Julie just shrugs, and I choose that time to head over to the gift table at the exit doors to make sure all of the little Tiffany-blue boxes are in order for the guests’ departure in about an hour.
But halfway through my count, my phone steals my attention from my jacket pocket with three texts.
Jude: Loved seeing you come on my cock tonight, babe.
The second text is an address, and the last one includes instructions.
Jude: Clear your schedule for Thursday. 6:30pm. Dress casual.
Another surprise meetup. With Jude.
The smile that consumes my face should be downright embarrassing. And that’s followed by Julie’s questions floating around inside my head.
Is this starting to turn into something more?