Confessions of a Greedy Girl

Confessions of a Greedy Girl

Madelynne Ellis

Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

More from Mischief

About Mischief

Copyright

About the Publisher

Chapter One

‘Lyssa! You could at least pretend to be listening while I’m telling you about my abysmal date. The odd acknowledgement wouldn’t hurt. Even a grunt, so I’m actually convinced you’re still alive.’

‘Huh? What?’ I glanced up from the theatre seating plan I’d been colouring for the last half-hour – red for empty seats, blue for those that had already been reserved, and green for the corporate bookings – to find my favourite workmate glowering at me. The only trouble with working in the theatre box office was that it was either all go, phones ringing, people hammering on the window for attention, or else afternoons of endless, coma-inducing nothingness. Programmes didn’t need stapling, ice-cream didn’t need ordering, and even the drinks tickets for tonight’s interval were already printed. Of course I’d zoned out. ‘Sorry, Hats. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Go on, you were saying you touched him, right?’

Hattie scrunched two handfuls of her naturally jet-black hair and sighed. ‘Jeez, Lyssa, you really weren’t listening, were you? Point one: the main focus of a first date is not to cop a feel of a guy’s tackle. Point two: Bryan never even kissed me. There’s no way he’d have let me grope him. We didn’t even shake hands.’

Surprised, and not entirely on board with Hattie’s version of dating, I plastered on a sheepish grin that would hopefully diffuse some of Hattie’s anger. When roused she bore a certain similarity to a Chinese firecracker, and she could be vicious with a staple gun.

‘It turns out he has obsessive compulsive disorder. It means he has to disinfect after he comes into contact with anything foreign. We lasted twenty minutes before I called it off. I couldn’t take the scent of alcohol gel any longer.’

‘OK. I can see how that might have caused some problems.’ It’d definitely rule out anything similar to the night I’d enjoyed at the gallery. Though I’d suffered for it the following morning, and it’d left me wondering about several things. How could a man be so into me, but not want to touch me? I didn’t suppose I’d ever find out. It wasn’t as if we’d exchanged numbers, and even if we had, I wouldn’t have expected him to call.

‘But you did say you were kissing someone, right? I swear I distinctly heard the K word mentioned.’

Hattie’s pretty almond-shaped eyes narrowed to two thin slits. ‘No, all I did was speculate what it might be like to actually date someone I fancied for a change, rather than the losers DatesRUs keep pairing me with.’

‘Oh, Hats.’ I hid my smile. She really didn’t need a match making service, and certainly not one with such a dire name. Hattie was lovely; delicate and refined in the way only the Chinese seemed to manage. All she needed to do was lower her standards from the heights of perfection they were currently set upon, or failing that get a guy home with her long enough to experience her cooking. I’d tasted her dumplings – and sworn undying love to her shortly afterwards.

‘Seriously, Lyssa why does it have to be so hard? You never have any trouble finding yourself a nice guy. I know you have Nathan now, but even before him there was always a steady stream. You never wanted for a date if you fancied a night out.’

‘Hm.’ Only partly true. My list of exes included the jobless, the homeless, an entrepreneur and an investment banker. None of whom had been great choices. I certainly had bad memories about coming second in importance to a sock empire. ‘I’m not exactly choosy,’ I reminded her.

‘So you’re saying I have to lower my standards.’ Hattie pursed her cute little Cupid’s bow lips and thought for a moment, before dismissing the advice. ‘I don’t think I can do it. I mean, he needs to be fit and at least reasonably good looking for starters. And he can’t smell. Plus, he has to be able to hold a conversation about more than Smartphone apps and sport. But I don’t want a geeky professor either.’

She really didn’t ask for much.

‘And good in the bedroom department,’ I suggested.

‘And good in the –’ Hattie’s lips twisted into a puckered moue. ‘I’m not bothered about that. As long as he knows where to put it, we’ll be fine.’

‘Right.’ I nodded tactfully, what was point in discussing this when I knew she already had her heart set on the impossible? Sure enough, Hattie’s gaze strayed to the huge black and white close-up of Leif Haralsson that sat directly opposite the booking desk. There was no denying the theatre’s current male lead oozed style. Every inch of his tall, wiry frame was perfection. He looked fab in clothes. He probably looked even better out of them. Couple that with his soft, candid blue eyes, a bird’s nest of light blond hair, and he was a female fantasy made flesh.

Nor did his sexiness end there. Nope, he had a voice that flowed through one’s veins as if you’d just injected chocolate, a sharp-edged jaw with a cute little cleft in his chin, and the sort of sultry pout hitherto only seen on old-time screen legends. Did I want to screw him? Absolutely. Did Hattie stand a chance? Probably not, if only because she’d have to wade through a ton of adoring fans with far looser morals to get to him.

‘You know he doesn’t have a girlfriend,’ Hattie confided, her voice becoming soft and just a little breathless. ‘Melanie from wardrobe told me.’

Melanie, the fount of all wisdom, had probably forgotten to mention that he was a) gay, b) married or c) both. Still, so as not to dishearten my one true friend, I patted her on the back. ‘Fab. So ask him out.’

‘Really?’ Hattie snapped to attention. ‘I suppose I could, couldn’t I?’ Sometimes she forgot this was the twenty-first century. ‘That’s how you hooked up with Nathan, wasn’t it? You asked him out.’

‘Pretty much.’ I ducked my head. The problem with discussing men was that the conversation inevitably seemed to come round to my love life. If love life had been an accurate descriptive, that wouldn’t have mattered, but what I had was actually a sex life, and a fairly unusual one at that. I was swinging with three guys and a couple, four if you counted the man I’d met at the gallery, and Hattie only knew about Nathan. As for how I’d hooked up with Nathan, the problem there started with the word ‘date’. Date hadn’t featured very prominently in our first conversation, and certainly hadn’t preceded ‘fuck’, ‘ride’, or ‘cock’, and possibly hadn’t come before ‘you don’t mind if my mate joins in, do you?’ either.

I could be a really bad girl.

I was also a monumental coward. ‘Hey, I’m going to go and straighten up the gift section.’ It had already been done that morning, but anything to avoid the relationship questions. I liked Hattie – a lot. I didn’t want to fall out with her, but I’d learned pretty quickly that people didn’t like my arrangement. While one or two friends had been accepting, more often they turned judgemental, and then cut me dead. The friends I had remaining were mostly the ones I was playing with, and even they were slightly huffy with me at the moment. It wasn’t as if I’d planned what had happened at the gallery, I’d just been swept along by events. Birthday madness, I suppose you could call it …

Let me explain first that pottery doesn’t excite me. The choice of venue for my birthday outing wasn’t of my choosing, but the tickets had been free and so was the booze, so I could hardly complain. Nor did the monochrome palette of this particular pottery collection help to inspire any new-found love. So it’s surely not much of a surprise to learn that when Nathan quirked his eyebrow and in his best James Bond voice asked if I’d prefer to be shaken or stirred I accepted his offer to find out.

We were giggling when we crept into the gallery’s green room, having completely ignored the sign that read ‘VIPs only’. It was already late in the evening at this point, and I’d drunk far too much champagne. I was feeling pleasantly tipsy. My inhibitions had sailed west and, I’ll admit, I was spectacularly failing to keep my hands off Nathan’s glorious butt. You see he’d scrubbed up rather well tonight. Out had gone his normal weathered jeans, replaced by smart black trousers, and a tuxedo and bow tie. I never could resist a smartly dressed man, and booze makes me horny.

I expected the green room to be just as dull and austere as the rest of the gallery, with its whitewashed concrete and steel design, but much to my delight, that wasn’t the case. Instead, we stepped into a world of glittering black tiles, huge gilt-framed mirrors and mood lighting. Someone with comfort in mind had designed this room. Several sumptuous red leather sofas completed the effect. But, best of all, the room was deserted.

‘Finally.’ Nathan ushered me inside and closed the door. His arms immediately wrapped around my waist from behind. ‘Which was it you said you preferred – shaken, or stirred?’ He jogged me about a bit, making me squeal, but bringing us into closer contact. Breathless with laughter, I snuggled against his warmth. ‘What say I give you a little birthday treat?’

I didn’t have to look at him to know what he had in mind. It was on my mind too.

‘We shouldn’t,’ I gushed, while relishing the prospect of being naughty. ‘Someone might come in.’

‘Really, no? Or do you just mean, tempt me some more?’ He fitted himself to the curve of my back and began to roll our hips together in a slow dance. ‘Who’s going to catch us? Folk were already leaving when we sneaked off. There’s probably only Sam and David left in the building by now.’ Sam was the gallery’s assistant manager, David her husband, one of the directors. In fact, Sam had provided the tickets for the exhibition. ‘You know neither of them would object to us having a little fun.’ His whisky-gold eyes glinted with wicked intent as he held my gaze via the mirror.

True enough, they were more likely to join in than protest. Still, this was a public building, even if it were a private lounge within it, and everyone else had gone home.

‘What about if I just creep under here a little?’ Nathan walked his fingers up my thigh, so that his hand found its way under the short hem of my dress. I clamped a hand down to stop his progress, but Nathan was one step ahead. His lips teased the shell of my ear in the exact way that’s guaranteed to undo me. Right on cue, a pleasant shiver rolled through my body, leaving me tingly and alert, and I forgot all about playing hard to get. ‘Let’s live a little, Lys. You only get to be twenty-seven once, remember.’

True enough. I kept promising myself I wasn’t going to grow old and boring. I’d already wasted too many years being young and boring. Ever since I’d split with my ex, three days into the New Year, I’d been making up for lost time. A moment later, Nathan’s fingers alighted someplace they oughtn’t to have been, prompting another sharp intake of breath.

‘Here or outside,’ he hissed. ‘There’s no way I can wait until I get you home. Got to have you soon, babe.’ His lips found mine, and I could only agree. Thoughts of cleaners and security staff were pushed to the very back of my brain. No one would walk in, and even if they did, so what. He was sexy and I was more than eager to feel what he’d got.

Nathan didn’t waste any time. He rocked forward a fraction, sliding our bodies into closer contact, while our tongues continued to duel.

‘Mm.’ I wriggled back against his hard-on, while our tongues continued to duel, and gasped to find his fly already loose.

Nathan chuckled against my shoulder. ‘God, you’re sexy when you do that. Do it again?’

I wasn’t sure if he meant the groan or the wiggle, so I did both. ‘Someone’s eager.’

‘Babe, I’m so hard, I’m aching.’ He nudged my knees apart, and slipped himself between my thighs. Hard muscle stroked along the seam of my pussy. Heat immediately filled my cheeks.

Whoa! I hadn’t realised my desire had become quite so acute. I was wet and slick, and more than a little warm. ‘Yes,’ I encouraged, trying to angle my hips in order to capture him more fully. ‘More.’

‘Babe, you’re so soft and warm.’ He trembled a little, as he tried to hold me steady. It didn’t work, I was just too eager, and feeling him there, right between my thighs, mere millimetres from where I wanted to get him, was proving too much. ‘Yeah,’ he sighed, sliding against me. ‘Just, yeah.’

When the door swung open, I had sense enough left to try and push Nathan off. He, of course, was having none of it. Thankfully, the intruder turned out to be David, with Sam not far behind.

‘I told you we’d find them somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, being inappropriate,’ David remarked.

‘And I agreed, if you recall. Honestly, you two. Can’t you keep your hands off one another for a second?’ Sam cast a stern glance in our direction before giving her husband a hungry kiss, hands already groping his body.

‘If we did, she’d be horribly disappointed,’ Nathan whispered into my ear. He was right. Despite having their hands inside one another’s clothing, they’d stopped kissing in order to watch us. I didn’t understand David and Sam, but that didn’t stop me enjoying their company. Despite being married, or maybe because of it, they seemed to prefer participating in other people’s pleasure rather than seeking their own with one another. Nathan had introduced them to me shortly after we’d first met. They were his favourite neighbours, a few years his senior, but always ready to indulge his particular quirk. They loved watching and Nathan loved being watched.

‘You planned this,’ I realised. A grin stretched wide across my lips, as I turned my gaze between Sam and then Nathan. That’s how Nathan had known how to find this place. Sam had given him directions.

She lifted her shoulders in admission. ‘Well, we couldn’t let your birthday pass without a little celebration, and we figured you hadn’t come up here before.’ Her smile told me the double entendre had been deliberate. ‘You don’t mind us being here, do you, Lyssa?’

‘No.’ What else was I supposed to say?

‘Good.’ Sam stepped out of her underwear, before settling on one of the sofas. Nathan, meanwhile, nudged me forwards towards another. Thanks to the mirrors, we could all still see one another from numerous angles. I could see why Sam and David liked this room, and I suspected this wasn’t the first performance they’d watched up here.

On the plus side, their presence had kicked any residual fear of discovery I had left. If we’d been in any danger, Sam wouldn’t have taken her knickers off!

‘Lift her dress, Nathan,’ she instructed. ‘Let us see if you’ve worked any magic yet.’

He flicked my dress up high, so it was gathered around my waist, giving everyone a good look at my stocking tops and the teeny scrap of fabric that passed for my underwear. The triangle of which was already embarrassingly wet.

‘Looks as if she’s pretty eager.’

‘Fairly.’ Still behind me, Nathan wetted his lips. ‘I think there’s just one little thing I need to do.’ He bent, but not to dress for action, as I supposed. Instead, his lips pressed to one cheek of my bottom, shocking and electrifying me. Nathan knew how sensitive my bottom was. Kisses there could drive me near insane. He wasn’t content with only bestowing kisses either. His devil’s tongue dabbed wickedly between the cheeks, seeking out the furl of muscle hidden there.

‘Nathan! Oh …’ I was pretty sure women could die from what he could do with his tongue. Considering the speed of my pulse, I was about to become the first casualty.

‘Is he? Oh, my God, he is,’ David blurted, before Sam hushed him. One glance from the corner of my eye confirmed what my ears had already told me. They were enjoying the display on a mental as well as physical level.

‘Nathan, no,’ I crooned. Some things were meant to be done in privacy, and this was surely one of them. It wasn’t that I was inexperienced, or embarrassed, only that I couldn’t control my reaction if he was teasing me like this. I knew I’d end up thrashing about, and screaming God knows what for everyone to hear. They didn’t need to hear me yelling, ‘Harder. Deeper.’

‘Spoilsport.’ Nathan relinquished, and kissed his way up my back, returning his attention to my earlobe again. ‘Suppose I’ll have to content myself with this little peach instead.’ His hand covered my pussy and squeezed. ‘Ready?’ It wasn’t really a question. He was already pushing in.

‘There now. There,’ he muttered, at my gasp.

Boy, did it feel good. Tight and glorious. The slow, easy roll of his hips alongside mine was coupled with the brush of his fingers against my breasts. ‘So, so, good.’ So good, in fact, that it took a minute or two to realise he was holding back. Typically, Nathan went at it hard, exactly the way I liked him too. His current thrusts weren’t nearly deep, or swift enough to truly please.

‘Don’t sulk,’ I hissed.

‘I’m not. I just wanted a piece of your arse.’

‘Later,’ I promised. Once we were home and safely behind locked doors. Apparently, the promise was incentive enough. He immediately picked up the pace.

‘Harder?’ His fingers tightened around my shoulder providing leverage. ‘More like this, huh?’

God, yes! Exactly like that. Adrenaline rushed through me like I’d been dropped from a hundred feet and swung through a few loop-the-loops. The sofa hammered against the wall as our bodies smacked together, so that in seconds we were both breathless and lathered.

‘Not – sure – how – much – of – this – I – can – take.’ Nathan’s words punched free of his throat in time with his thrusts. It was going to be quick. Very quick. Nathan could go like a jackhammer, but he was a sprinter, not a marathon runner. He often burned himself out before I’d properly warmed through. Luckily, he had no issues about sharing me. He was quite happy for another guy to finish me off, if he was spent. Still, my other lovers weren’t here tonight, and this was fast, even for Nathan.

‘Don’t you dare,’ I warned him when arrhythmia started to creep in to his motion.

‘Dare what?’ His fingers curved possessively against my bottom. ‘I reckon I know who’s going to come first tonight, and it definitely ain’t me.’ He mischievously brushed his thumb along the channel between my cheeks, making the furled muscle he’d previously kissed twitch with excitement. ‘Knock, knock, let me in.’ One digit, then a second slipped past the gate, sending a shockwave of pleasure up my spine. In seconds my legs were jelly. But, in the end, it wasn’t that, but Nathan’s thumb stroking across my painfully hard clit that set me off.

One touch and I was gone; body convulsing, and sucking up Nathan’s orgasm like it was oxygen and I was starved of air.

Shaken and giddy – I hadn’t thought Nathan meant to be so literal – I sagged against the sofa back, content to let the aftershocks ripple through me. Nathan, however, had other plans. He pulled out, only to push into my rear.

‘God, Nathan.’ My sex was still rippling with pleasure. I didn’t have the will to shove him away. But, even though he entered me gradually, it was still torment and bliss rolled into one. The sensations were exquisitely raw. The tightness, the way he rubbed against all of my most tender nerve endings, enough to make my hair curl.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give him a right earful once he was done. ‘God, I love you, you’re such a dirty pair,’ I heard either Sam or David mumble. I tried not to look at them to work out which, knowing if I did my cheeks would heat with shame, and that alone might tip me over. A second climax was already boiling up inside of me.

The shadow seemed like nothing at first – just a flaw in the mirror, or a trick of the lighting.

Even when he stared at me, I didn’t think that he was real, just an illusion – a sultry ghost with thick dark hair and chin carved from granite, dressed in a vintage velvet jacket and cravat, like he’d been plucked right out of 1964. A real person would have made a fuss. Yet, he acted as if it were routine to see a girl taken thus.

Warning bells jangled as he strolled over to the coffee machine.

When actual water spluttered from the nozzle, my heart nearly stopped.

As a group, we made a collective yelp. Nathan froze mid-stroke.

‘Aw, hell!’ Sam jolted out of her chair. ‘Oh, my God, Victor! Mr Alexander. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were still here.’ Sam hastily rearranged her bunched up skirt. The cerise taffeta refused to fall in to place, leaving all of her coltish legs on display.

‘No, no. Don’t apologise. Carry on.’ The man, whose name had been on every banner in the gallery, gave a dismissive wave before reaching for his brew.

‘No, really …’ Sam continued to apologise. ‘Um … I think we ought to be going. Come along now, everybody out. Let Mr Alexander have his peace.’

‘There’s really no need.’ A twitch of annoyance flashed across his face. It seemed Victor Alexander was more perturbed by Sam’s insistence that we stop, than by the depravity he’d stumbled upon. Having finished making his drink, he turned and rested against the arm of the sofa Sam had jumped up from, and from which David was still extracting himself.

‘What are you doing?’ Sam asked, the quaver in her voice betraying her still underlying panic.

Victor raised his eyebrows. ‘Watching. Drinking my coffee. Given how much you were enjoying yourselves it must be a good show.’

Is it wrong that I loved him from that very moment, from his winkle-pickers to his mod jacket to his almost, but not quite perfect nose? I slapped a hand across my mouth to hide my smile, while Sam gaped and spluttered. I probably ought to have tried to extract myself from the situation, rather than stand there being amused, with my butt on show, but Nathan held me in a death grip.

‘No – no. You can’t.’ Sam reached out to her celebrity guest, but stopped short of dragging him from his perch. ‘I thought you’d left. I watched you go.’ She finally managed to wrench her dress into the correct position, at which point her cool, business self reasserted itself. She took a breath, and spoke calmly, ‘I’ll go and order you a taxi now. I apologise things weren’t properly organised earlier.’ She took a step towards the door, then abruptly backtracked and grabbed hold of her husband. David was still fastening his fly as she dragged him into the corridor.

‘We ought to leave too,’ Nathan murmured into my ear. His grip had relaxed a fraction, allowing me the freedom to move. ‘Ease forward slowly. We don’t need to show him anything.’

Curiously, the thought of Victor’s gaze upon my naked bottom sparked excitement rather than horror. I actually didn’t mind that he wanted to watch. Interesting, considering Nathan, the man who usually loved being watched, was itching to get away.

‘Lyssa,’ Nathan prompted.

‘I meant it. Don’t feel you have to spoil your fun because of me,’ Victor remarked. If the fun hadn’t already been over, I might have taken him at his word, but Nathan’s erection had shrunk and was now safely tucked up behind his fly.

‘Another time,’ I said, as if we were likely to cross paths again under similar circumstances.

‘Definitely.’ Victor flashed me a sinful smile, showing just a hint of teeth that seemed to convert my throwaway remark into a promise.