Picked

by Jettie Woodruff

  “How am I supposed to let you go after that?” he finally spoke the first words between us in over an hour. I smiled and kissed his pouty lip.

  “I need up.”

  “Why? I like you under me.”

  “I have to pee.”

  Becker rolled off and smiled when my eyes went right to his almost relaxed shaft. I couldn’t help it. That thing was still big and it was only half mast. I felt it, too, just as soon as I started walking. Yup, that was going to cause a limp.

  Deciding Becker wouldn’t miss me, I jumped in the shower. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep. I was too sticky from the sex and as much as I loved it between us during sex, I really didn’t have the desire to leave it there to dry.

  “My house has a huge shower,” Becker teased, moving behind me.

  I smiled. I was in the shower with a man. As silly as it sounded, it excited me. I always wondered how that felt. “You take showers with Christina, Alana, and Britney,” I reminded him, and me, of why we couldn’t take showers together.

  Becker turned me, forcing me to look at him. “We barely know each other. Let’s just take it day by day, see where it leads.”

  “I can’t. I feel like the other woman, or, whatever it is you call it.”

  “You don’t call it anything, Cassie. The girls are fine with this.”

  “Their fine with you fucking me and standing here in my shower?”

  “Yes. They picked this tile,” he said in a frustrated tone. “But just for the record, we don’t discuss that. They don’t need to know I am in your shower with you.”

  Was that how it worked? If they didn’t talk about it they could just pretend it didn’t happen, that the man they loved wasn’t making love to someone else. I couldn’t pretend that.

  “I don’t get it. I don’t get how these three girls can be okay with this, how they can be okay with you standing here naked with me. It infuriates the hell out of me to think about you showering with any of them.”

  “I have never done that with any of them. Now stop it. You’re acting like baby,” he teased, lifting me around his waist. Shit. Again?

  “You have a very big penis,” I said in his arms, still feeling the dampness on our skin from the hot shower.

  Becker laughed. “So, I’ve been told.”

  “It sort of hurts.”

  “Hurts good, or hurts bad?”

  “Hurts good during, hurts bad now,” I admitted, still feeling the burn.

  We both showered quickly, laughing and flirting the entire time. I liked Becker in my shower. Becker made things feel, hmmm, like they were okay, I guess. Like I was going to be okay.

  I settled into Becker’s arms once again and he kissed my forehead. I loved it when he did that. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I moaned a little, feeling the sting between my legs.

  “What?” Becker asked, catching the hint of pain.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why did you grunt like you’re in pain?”

  “Because I am a little,” I giggled.

  Becker shifted, lifting me to move. Resting his weight on his elbow, he moved the comforting covers off my relaxed body and spread my legs.

  “You hurt down there?” he asked in his sexy, low-ass, drive-me-up-the-fucking-wall tone.

  Nope. It didn’t hurt at all. It was swiftly wide awake, begging for more.

  Becker slid out of bed and came back with a hand full of KY jelly. Spreading me open, he massaged my sore sex.

  “Ahhhhh,” I sighed, feeling soothed from his touch once again. Becker dropped to the bed beside me and rubbed my soreness in the most soothing way possible. I was in heaven. I fell asleep like that.

  ***

  I tried really hard for three straight days. I ignored his texts and his calls. I did talk to Alana and Christina. I was sure Becker put them up to it. Christina invited me out to lunch. Alana invited me to go to Hollinger’s Art Museum in town. I declined both invitations, using the excuse of being swamped at work. That wasn’t a lie.

  Since I was finally out on my own, I had actual things to do. I was even a little excited to get the cheating spouse case. Matt argued with my father, telling him he was an idiot for sending me out alone on something like that. It turned into a heated argument. Matt was pissed. He stormed out of the office, shoving the door as hard as he could. I didn’t care. He could be pissed. I couldn’t listen to one more day of his lectures. I’d learned more about safety in the past couple weeks to last a lifetime. I was glad to be rid of him and his smelly car.

  Justine was being downright mean because of my sudden withdraw from the Cole men. I tried to give her Becker’s number, telling her to go for it, and that he’d gladly give her Mason’s number. She wouldn’t take it. She said it would make her look desperate and only after his money.

  YOU ARE! I politely reminded her in a text message with big, bold letters in red.

  I was excited after the mid-week briefing to dig into Joni and Markus Reverie’s love life. Markus Reverie was some sort of big time stockbroker, and his wife Joni was, well, a kept woman if you ask me. She was gorgeous, but besides her looks, didn’t really have much going for her. Same old Lifetime Movie—husband works all the time, wife feels lonely, falls for her fitness instructor, yada, yada, yada.

  Thanks to Matt’s help, I learned that Mrs. Reverie made a reservation at the Ski Aisle Inn. It was a very romantic, very expensive place to take a date. I knew it like the back of my hand. I’d sat in the parking lot across the road many times growing up, chasing cheaters just like this.

  Sitting in the dark parking lot just before nine, I ate a fast-food cheeseburger and cold fries while talking to Justine as I waited for the two parties to pull up. I cursed the day I let her in on any of this. All she wanted to talk about was Mason and Becker—mostly Mason. Rolling my eyes when she asked if I’d talked to him for the fourth time that day, I watched the beautiful Joni Reverie step out of her car.

  “Oh, gotta go. I’ll call you back.”

  My blood started to pump, forcing adrenaline through my veins. Adjusting the hidden camera in my headlights, I clicked multiple images of her standing by the entrance while she waited for the black Lamborghini to pull in next. Nope. Not a fitness instructor, they don’t make that kind of money. I jotted down a couple notes so I wouldn’t forget when I started trying to find out who the guy was.

  Now, see? That right there is why this was the worst restaurant in the world to cheat. The tables were situated privately along long windows and dim lights. Not dim enough. I watched the two of them be seated, moving my camera just in time for the kiss. That one could have been a friendly, how are you kiss, but I still felt proud for getting it.

  Maybe I could do this job. The new sense of intrigue about these two and what they were up to occupied my mind, kept me from thinking about Becker—until he pulled up, that is. The valet attendant bowed and opened his door. I stretched my neck like a giraffe, trying to see who he was letting out the other side. Christina.

  My newfound excitement with my cheating case deflated in a split second. I didn’t want, nor did I care, about the Reveries anymore. Why was he there with Christina? Were they on a date? Would he take her home and do what he did to me a few nights before? I wiggled in my seat, needing to stop thinking about that. I needed it to hurry and wear off. I’d spent the last three nights thinking about it.

  I observed the interaction through binoculars. Shit. They were seated on the other side. I should have stayed put. I shouldn’t have moved. Why did I always have to be the inquisitive one? I was there to work, do a job that I was being paid a fair wage for.

  I settled in behind the bush with my binoculars, smiling at the perfect view. I should have left then. The sting at the way it made me feel to see them together was strong. Who the hell did he think he was, playing with people’s feelings like that? It was wrong. But then I started to notice things, observing the contact between them. It was different. I didn’t see the twinkle in hi
s eyes like I did with me. Did that mean it wasn’t there, or that it was just a different twinkle with her?

  Christina didn’t look like she was into him. She was pre-occupied, on her phone a lot. She was working with one of the biggest Hollywood fashion designers. I supposed she was very busy. She even walked away a couple times, once standing at the entrance outside. I moved back to Becker, looking bored with his hand resting on his jaw, sliding his finger over the screen of his phone.

  I wanted to go to him, make him not bored and smile. That’s when I realized how much trouble I was in.

  “Don’t move!”

  Really. A gun? Cops could be so overrated.

  Chapter 18

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call. I’ll pay you back,” I offered.

  Becker smiled. “I’m glad you called me. I’m not glad you got arrested, but I am glad you called. I don’t like your job. I want you to find a different means of making money.”

  “Yeah, tell that to my dad.” I breathed a long breath. I was going to have to tell him. He’d see my peeping tom and trespassing charge in the paper. If he didn’t, someone else would. At least he’d think it was about the Reverie case and not Becker. I hope.

  “You were just arrested, doing your job. That should mean something to him.”

  “Beck?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I didn’t get arrested because I was working my case. I got arrested because I saw you there with Christina. I left my car to get a better view of where you were sitting,” I admitted.

  He took my hand and I saw the smile through the darkness between us. “That’s because you miss me.”

  “Where’s Christina? I feel bad for ruining your evening.”

  “It wasn’t much of an evening. I haven’t seen her much lately because she’s always so busy with a show or something. She worked the entire night. I think she was happy that you called. She was feeling bad for ignoring me all night. I told her I understood and sent her on her way, in the direction of a disaster going on about something being shipped. She couldn’t stay focused anyway.”

  “What if she would have? I mean what if she wasn’t busy. Would you have had sex with her?”

  “I would have,” he admitted, squeezing my hand.

  “Oh.”

  I don’t know what I expected him to say. I knew he had sex with them. Of course he did, they were his wives. It didn’t keep me from squeezing my eyes to keep from thinking about it.

  I let Becker come in again that night and once again, he took me to faraway places. Every time we had sex, it brought something new and adventurous for me. That night was no different. The first thing he did was bend my body over the ottoman. Laying on my back, bent over the ottoman my body formed a U. Becker once again brought me to a mind-boggling, squirting orgasm. My sex pulsated, throbbed, letting the dancing vibes dance on every nerve ending in my body. Snowball ran from the room when I screamed out in pleasure.

  “Oh yes. Fuck, Cassie. Hmmm. I fucking love it when you do that,” Becker hissed, massaging my juices up and down my slit. That was when the new happened. He lifted my knees, leaving me in a very awkward position. My head was almost touching the floor and I had to keep my hands planted flat on the ground to keep gravity from making me look like more of a fool than I already felt.

  My closed eyes opened when I felt him massage the slippery substance to the opening in my ass. Um. Wait a minute. That part’s off limits. Wasn’t it? Hmm. Maybe not. That felt, oh yeah, hmm, fuck. I felt a finger, slowly being pushed in to my very private part. My instinct was to push back, but he pushed harder. Becker’s finger fucked my ass while his other hand explored everything else. He pinched my nipples, tapped my clitoris with his fingertips, and thrust his finger in and out of my ass. It all felt amazing, but I was still upside down, spread eagle with my knees to my chest. I wasn’t coming. I couldn’t. I had to concentrate on holding myself up. Struggling with which one was most important, I decided I should focus on the concussion I didn’t need. Whoa. Do that again. Shit. This isn’t working.

  “Becker,” I said in a husky, manly voice. I was upside down. It was expected.

  “Hmmm?” he rasped, dipping his finger back into my ass.

  “We have to get out of this position. My arms are going to fall off.”

  “That’s your job, your life, and your pretend relationship with your father.”

  Huh? What the fuck?

  “Excuse me?” Shit. I really couldn’t move in this position. I was stuck. I tried to bring my legs down. They wouldn’t go with the way Becker was leaning over me from the side, holding them down with his arm. If I moved my hands, I was going to fall. No question about that.

  “Your arms. They’re tired. They represent what you’re doing with your life. You’re holding together by a thread and that thread is about to break. This, on the other hand,” he countered, sliding his finger inside me and stopping to let his thumb tease my slippery, wet folds, and then my clit, circling it with needed friction. Fuck. It wasn’t not the time for Philosophy 101.

  “This here,” he continued his thrusting finger, in and out, in and out, faster and faster. Oh lord. “This portrays the life that you could have. It makes you happy, but not everyone would understand. You want this, don’t you, Cass?”

  “Ahhh, yes, Becker, yes,” I moaned forgetting the scientific fact that gravity existed at all. I could feel the building in the pit of my stomach. Oh, dear lord.

  Goddamnit.

  My arms hurt. Becker brought me back to reality, leaving me mentally reaching for the orgasm that was right there. It was right there. I felt it. No. Come back. Come back.

  “But you’re too afraid of what other people will think of you, so you live in this world created for you rather than the one you create for yourself. Do I make you happy, Cassie?”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  I was relieved When Becker pulled me to him, engulfing my naked body with his. He was right. He was absolutely right. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t want to live my life for my dad anymore. And why was I so worried about Matt? He was nobody. He couldn’t tell me what to do. My mind was suddenly quieted with Becker’s lips.

  “You’re really, really good.” That was the first thing out of my mouth once we were both relaxed and dropped to the hardwood floor. The cool floor felt welcoming on my sweaty body.

  “You’re really, really good,” he countered in a laugh, sliding his eluding penis in and out of me. I loved it when he did that after sex. The swelling deflated in his larger than normal penis, and the slipperiness from his recent bout of come in my pussy soothed the foreign violation it wasn’t used to.

  “I didn’t mean the sex,” I said, turning to my back. He slipped out and right back in. Ahhh. “I mean the reverse sociology crap you just pulled out of your ass. That was brilliant.”

  “Let’s go to my house.”

  And the rain ruins the parade. I didn’t want to go to his house with the girls. I wanted to stay right there. In my own house, where I had him to myself.

  “Why?”

  “I want to play put-put golf in the dark.”

  Chapter 19

  Christina was sitting at the massive table, pages and pages of designs strung about.

  “I’m so sorry, Christina. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t being much company anyway. I’m sorry, Becker.” She smiled at him. “I just have this deadline, and all,” she explained with a wave of her hand to the obvious in front of her.

  “You’re fine.” He smiled back. “We’re going to go play put-put, come with us.”

  “I still can’t believe you built that thing,” Christina teased. She took his hand and he took mine. Great. A threesome.

  No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t hate any of them. Christina was great, she was a girl’s dream best friend. Funny, smart, pretty, and very good at miniature golf. She kicked our asses, telling us funny stories about her and the gi
rls while she did. I knew she was bragging up their life, wanting me to join, and to be honest, I was thinking about it. Not so much thinking, thinking about it. I could never do it, not for real, but the thought of it was a little exciting, I guess.

  “Okay, that’s it. Fun’s over. I kicked your ass twice now. I have work to do,” Christina said, kissing Becker right smack on the lips. Bitch. “You’re staying, right?” she asked, looking at me.

  What? Huh?

  “Oh, no. I’m probably going to head out,” I stuttered.

  “And do what? Go home alone? At least let me show you your room,” Christina said, pulling my arm and looping hers into mine.

  Becker took my other hand and we all walked across the dark, damp grass. I followed, but I wasn’t staying. I felt like it was a ploy, they were ganging up on me.

  “You have your own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about sharing. We helped design this part of the house that was built on for us. That was the one thing we all demanded. Our own bathroom,” Christina explained.

  “But Becker only ever wanted three wives. Why would there be room for me?” I asked, not understanding.

  “It’s our guest room. We wanted the extra for friends, but we don’t really bring anyone here. They don’t really understand how we live.”

  “There you have it. I don’t understand it, either. I better just go home,” I said, trying to talk myself out of it more so than her or Becker.

  “I think you do. I think you’re just afraid of change,”

  Becker opened the sliding doors and smiled encouragingly when I stepped in. “I’m going to grab a shower. I’ll see you girls in a little while.”

  “Where’s Britney and Alana?” I asked, wondering where the other two were.

  “Alana’s here. We’ll walk out and see her. She’s in that little cottage thing you saw out back. Becker built it for her to paint. She spends hours and hours out there. Britney’s here, too. She’s catering a wedding tomorrow. She’ll be up all night. Maybe we’ll go help her out.”