Chasing Perfection: Vol. IV Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Acknowledgement

  About The Author

  Chasing Perfection

  Vol. IV

  By M.S. Parker

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC.

  Book Description

  I'd always been the type of woman who knew what I wanted and went after it, and it had been the same when I'd finally admitted to myself how I felt about DeVon Ricci. Once I got him, nothing had come between us, and I knew nothing ever would.

  When the CEO of Mirage Talent, DeVon Ricci, gets a mysterious visitor with surprising news, he's forced into a position he's never been in before. He's given a choice between something new that will change his life forever and the first woman he's truly ever loved and trusted.

  As secrets are revealed and lines drawn, will Krissy and DeVon be able to keep their happy ending?

  Do you like FREE BOOKS? I have several new books and series planned for the 2015 including several free books. If you would like an email when my next book is ready Click here to sign up to my newsletter.

  Chapter 1

  Krissy

  It seemed like more than a year since I’d been in New York, not a little less than one. For six years, this city had been my home. The three women I’d met here had become more of a family to me than my own mother and father. Dena and Leslie stood with me now as we waited for the fourth member of our group to appear. Carrie and her fiancé, Gavin, were the reason my own boyfriend, DeVon, and I had flown in from LA. Not only were Carrie and Gavin officially announcing their engagement, but it was also the re-opening of their club, the place where they’d had their first date. Well, sort of. The story of their relationship was the only one I knew that was even crazier than how DeVon and I had come together. The two of them had been through a lot and they deserved this celebration.

  “There.” DeVon’s voice sent a shiver through me even though there wasn’t anything sexual about the word or his intensions. His hand on my back sent heat through me that had nothing to do with the press of bodies all around us.

  I followed where he pointed and saw the person I’d been looking for. I grinned and shouted her name as I made my way through the crowd towards my friend. When I’d first met her at Columbia, she’d been much quieter and definitely less well-dressed. She was always beautiful, but her time with Gavin had given her the confidence to show the person I’d always known her to be.

  We’d been roommates since freshman year and being apart for this long hadn’t been easy. Of course, we’d both made new friends and found the paths our lives were meant to take, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t missed each other. The thing about being so close, the two of us picked up right where we’d left off. After a while, Dena and Leslie chose partners from their many admirers and moved off to dance. Gavin and Carrie headed off somewhere – I assumed to visit the private room she’d told me about the club having. And I definitely didn’t blame her. If I had a hot guy and a private sex playroom, I’d spend as much time in there as possible. Well, at least I had one half of that equation here.

  I looked up at DeVon. “Shall we dance?” I held out my hand.

  He smiled at me, a slow, sensual smile that tightened things low inside me. That was the kind of smile I’d learned held the promise of great things to come. When DeVon and I had first been doing this little back-and-forth thing where we tried to deny how we felt about each other, he’d said that he didn’t dance. When asked why by one of our mutual friends, he’d said it was because he’d never found the right partner.

  He slid his hand into mine and the two of us moved onto the dance floor. His hand slid up my bare arm and then down to the small of my back. He pulled me tight against him until our bodies were pressed together intimately. If we’d been at a normal dance club, it might’ve been almost obscene, the way we began to move together, but here, everything was a precursor to sex. Well, except for the actual sex that I assumed was happening in the more dimly lit parts of the club.

  “That dress looks amazing.” DeVon pressed his mouth against my ear. The hand on my back moved down to my ass. “But I don’t like it.”

  I turned my head enough to give him a puzzled look.

  “Too many men in here are wondering if you could possibly look as good without it as you do with it.” His hand slid lower and the tips of his fingers brushed against the tops of my thighs.

  I’d specifically chosen this dress because it wasn’t one I could wear to a function back home – when had I started referring to LA as home instead of New York? – and the re-opening of a sex club had seemed like the perfect fit for it. It was simple in the sense that it was plain white, without any fancy stitching or cuts, but no one would describe the dress as boring. At least not the way I was wearing it. Carrie would’ve called the dress one of my “barely there” outfits.

  “There are just as many women looking at you,” I countered. And it wasn’t just women. I saw more than a few men looking our way who weren’t checking me out.

  “Well, if people are looking…” DeVon’s Italian accent thickened the way it always did when he was angry or aroused. “Maybe we should give them something to look at.”

  I was wearing my favorite heels, which put me close enough to DeVon’s over-six-feet frame that all I had to do was tilt my head for our faces to be only an inch apart. I saw the heat in his eyes and then his mouth was coming down on mine. Electricity zinged through me as his tongue darted into my mouth, tasting of the champagne we’d been drinking. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my fingers in his wavy, black hair. He slid his hand under my dress, squeezing my ass even as his action pushed the hem up enough to flash some flesh at the people around us. The idea that men were ogling my ass as DeVon fondled it made me writhe against him, less of a dance now than something even more primal.

  I bit down on DeVon’s bottom lip, then sucked it into my mouth, reveling in the growl I felt reverberating through his chest. His mouth moved down my jaw even as his free hand tangled in the hair I’d left down to cascade over my shoulders. With a tug that sent a jolt straight through me, he yanked my head to the side and kissed his way down my neck.

  I dug my nails into his shoulders as he sucked the tender skin of my throat into his mouth. Ever since we’d gone public with our relationship, he’d been enjoying leaving hickeys and bite marks in visible places. My neck. Collarbone. The tops of my breasts. My eyelids fluttered as DeVon sucked on my neck, each pull making me even more wet.

  He slid his hand down my leg and pulled it up, hooking it around his hip. I ignored the fact that my skirt was gathering up around my waist and flashing my white thong. All I cared about was the way DeVon’s cock was now rubbing against me just right.

  “Do you think you can get off like this?” DeVon a
sked as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. He ground his pelvis against me and I moaned. “Dancing with all these people around us, knowing that all they have to do is look and they’ll see your firm ass in those tiny little panties.”

  It hit me then. He wasn’t going to let this go until I came. A thrill ran through me. I wasn’t an exhibitionist. Not in a true sense where I’d want people watching me have sex, like on a stage or someone in my room, but this was different. Aside from the fact that I was actually clothed, the club wasn’t brightly lit. People would see mostly shadows, the suggestion of what we were doing. If they were paying attention to us in the first place. People were probably more interested in their own partners.

  Still, it turned me on, knowing people could watch at least a bit while DeVon and I danced.

  He covered my mouth with his, the kiss hard and demanding. All of the desire I could feel in his body, the tension in his arms, how hard his cock was as it pressed against me, he poured all of it into that kiss. His tongue thrust into my mouth, exploring every inch of it. I moaned as I writhed against him, the fabric providing exquisite friction against my clit. We’d been together for almost a year and it was still fireworks every time we touched.

  His fingers tightened in my hair, sending little pinpricks of pain and pleasure into my scalp. He tore his mouth away from mine and our eyes met. The love and desire that burned there only made me want to come more. I loved being able to do what he asked. What he commanded. I loved the expression on his face when I obeyed.

  “Come, Ms. Jensen.”

  I smiled as I remembered how our first time together, he’d used my last name rather than my first, as if it could put a distance between us. It hadn’t worked even then.

  “Come for me, baby.” His hand tightened on my hip, fingers digging into flesh, the extra pressure exactly what I needed.

  I groaned, biting my bottom lip to hold back the cry that wanted to escape. I shuddered as I came and DeVon released my leg. I put my foot on the floor, but it was DeVon’s arms that held me steady, kept us moving to the music until the strength returned to my legs. Once I could stand on my own, I reached down and took his hand, moving us off of the dance floor. I waved at Dena and Leslie as we passed, but I didn’t stop. I’d spend time with them tomorrow. As for Carrie and Gavin, I wasn’t going to waste my time looking for them. I knew they were busy. And once DeVon and I got back to our hotel, I intended to be just as busy.

  Chapter 2

  Krissy

  “You packed the handcuffs?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I’d been on several trips with DeVon in the time we’d been together and he believed in the Boy Scout motto of always being prepared. I just doubted whoever had come up with that motto had been thinking of sex toys at the time.

  DeVon and I had been all over each other from the moment we’d gotten into the town car Gavin had commissioned for us for the weekend. Before we’d gone more than a couple yards, DeVon had me stretched out on the seat and was pulling off my panties. I’d spared a moment to glance at the tinted window between us and the driver, but then DeVon had pushed my legs up so that my feet were flat on the seat – or at least as flat as they could be in heels – and I’d known what was coming next.

  “Shh,” DeVon cautioned. “I don’t know how soundproofed it is back here.”

  I’d considered glaring at him, but then he’d pressed his mouth against the inside of my thigh, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there until I’d been fighting back moans. The first time he’d ever marked me, it had been in that same spot, a place where no one from work would’ve been able to see it since Mirage had strict no-fraternization policies at the time. Things had changed since DeVon and I had started dating.

  “I wonder how many times I can make you come before we get to the hotel?” he’d asked just before burying his face between my legs.

  Thanks to some traffic, the answer had turned out to be three times. Before I’d met DeVon, that would’ve been a record for a whole night with a lover. Since we’d gotten together, the four orgasms I’d had so far tonight had become about average. And I’d gotten the impression that tonight wasn’t going to be average.

  He’d had to help me walk into the hotel and I’d been pretty sure the people we’d passed had thought I was drunk. I hadn’t cared what they thought, as long as they hadn’t realized that my panties had been in DeVon’s pocket and that, despite DeVon’s very attentive tongue, the insides of my thighs had been dripping.

  Now, we were in our room, standing next to our king-sized bed, and DeVon was holding up a pair of handcuffs and giving me that wicked grin of his that said I was going to be sore tomorrow. I held out my hands in the universal sign for ‘cuff me, Officer. I’ve been naughty.’

  “Strip.” His voice held that authoritative note that had always twisted something inside me.

  First went the shoes. Then, I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head in one quick gesture, leaving me in just a strapless bra, the same white lace as the panties in his pocket. I gave him a moment to appreciate the view and then tossed the bra on the floor, too. With a sly grin, I ran my hands up my sides and cupped my breasts. They weren’t overly large, but they weren’t small either, just a bit above average. DeVon’s eyes narrowed as I caressed my breasts, my fingers making circles around my nipples until they hardened into little bullet points.

  “Did I say you could touch yourself?” He took a step towards me and I shivered in anticipation.

  When I’d first met DeVon, I’d thought he’d been a control freak, wanting nothing more than to boss women around into pleasuring him. I’d ended up realizing that hadn’t been the case. He enjoyed domination and I definitely enjoyed submitting to him, but what made us work was that I wasn’t the traditional definition of a Sub. Not in the BDSM world. I liked pushing back...and he liked it when I did. What made us so good for each other was that we understood the other’s needs and knew exactly how to fill them.

  “No, Sir.” I gave my nipples a light pinch and watched DeVon’s eyes darken to almost black.

  He reached out and took one of my wrists. Cool metal brushed my skin as he clicked one side of the handcuffs into place. Immediately, I knew that these weren’t the flimsy trick ones that magicians used on their assistants. These were the real thing. Only one way out and that was the key DeVon set on the table next to the bed before reaching for my other hand.

  He paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. I didn’t say anything, letting him make whatever decision it was he was making. After a moment, he locked my hands in front of me and then took a step back. Slowly, he peeled off the fitted t-shirt he was wearing, revealing a long, lean torso with defined muscles beneath tanned skin. He was tall, with broad shoulders, but not quite as muscular as, say, Gavin. But like my friend’s fiancé, DeVon had a strength and power to him that went beyond build. He was physically intimidating, but it was truly his charisma and personality that made people listen to him.

  He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, but didn’t take them off. He left them open, revealing a thin trail of black curls that ran from his belly button down to disappear between the folds of fabric.

  I realized, with a jolt of desire, that he wasn’t wearing anything under his jeans. I bit my lip. If I’d known that, I would’ve had my hand down his pants and around his cock back at the club.

  He reached into the bag he’d taken the handcuffs out of and what came out next made my mouth go dry.

  The leather belt was wide, definitely too wide to be fashionable. Not that DeVon really wore belts unless he had something like this in mind. Those were all stylish, and much thinner, which meant they hurt more. Wide belts were more like hands, spreading the sensations over a distance.

  This was something that I hadn’t known before I’d met him.

  “Turn around.”

  I stayed where I was for a moment, holding his gaze, and then I did as I was told. I spread my legs s
houlder-width apart, but stayed straight, not knowing how else he wanted me positioned. Over the past few months, he’d spanked me with his hand and used a crop on me. The belt had been a recent addition, though he still only kept to my ass. I knew some women – including former lovers of his – had wanted him to whip their backs and breasts. Some had even wanted their pussies whipped. I’d always liked things a bit rough, but he was still easing me into a lot of the kinkier things he enjoyed. My ass throbbed at the memory of the first time he’d taken me there. I’d slept with my fair share of men and I’d never been close to a prude, but DeVon had been my first for quite a few things.

  “Hands on the bed.”

  It was a bit awkward with the handcuffs, but I balanced myself on my hands and waited.

  The first blow was across both cheeks, barely enough to sting. The second was harder, heat spreading across my skin. Three and four came quick together and I gasped. The fifth made me cry out as it caught me across the lower part of my ass, the leather almost, but not quite, brushing against my pussy

  “Move to your elbows.”

  I hesitated and leather cracked against my skin again. I did as I was told, suddenly aware of how much this position exposed my pussy as well as my ass.

  The belt came down again, this time, curling around my hips, the center of it lightly connecting with my lower lips. My entire body jerked. It hadn’t hurt. Not exactly. It was a sharp sensation, unlike anything I’d felt there before. When he repeated the same strike, I made a strangled sound that I wasn’t sure was a protest, but I didn’t know if it was a plea to continue, either. My brain scrambled to make sense of everything I was feeling.

  When my legs were trembling and my body was torn between pain and pleasure, only then did he finally stop. My ass felt like it was on fire. He hadn’t quite taken me to the bruising point, but sitting tomorrow was going to be a real bitch.

  “That’s my girl.” He leaned over me and pressed his lips against my spine.