by Hazel Parker
Splitter, perhaps anticipating that this would work, stood before me buck naked. There was absolutely nothing left to the imagination—not that my imagination, before last night, could have envisioned something this fucking handsome to look at.
“Oh, my,” I said, having never experienced anything like this either. “This is… unexpected.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “As you can see.”
He glanced down nonchalantly.
“Turns out I have a physical need to take care of before we get to some of the legal stuff. And in any case, truth be told, I am not worried about the legal needs. I have you by my side; what more could I want?”
He started to come closer, and I felt my hands rising to meet his body.
“Everything is going to work out just fine,” he said. “As long as I’m with you.”
Nothing could have sounded as romantic as that. If he was trying to get me to give in to temptation if he was trying to get me to put the legal work behind in favor of some wild, good sex…
Mission accomplished.
Mission all too well accomplished.
I went up to him and kissed him, my hands reaching down to stroke his cock. I pressed him back, back, and back until I had him pressed against the bed. He collapsed into it, and I smiled, taking my shirt off.
“This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” I said. “Except, wait, the roles are reversed! It’s time for me to give you a little bit of what you gave me yesterday.”
“Oh, yes please.”
“Careful what you wish for,” I said with an arched eyebrow. “What you gave me yesterday all but knocked me out. I’m not sure you would be able to handle it.”
“Try me.”
Oh, don’t challenge me like that, Splitter. You get what you asked for.
Admittedly, because Jacob wasn’t one who wanted to receive oral sex a lot, it wasn’t the kind of thing that I felt enormously confident in, especially after what Splitter had done to me. But I knew that intensity, a little bit of speed, and a lot of moistness went a long way to making a man feel good. Besides, what man had ever complained about bad head that had enthusiasm behind it?
Oh, and no teeth.
I flipped my hair to the side, kissed his member, and then swallowed it, taking more and more of it until I had gone as deep as I could go.
Once I had it all the way in, I started to work my magic. I put both hands around him, twisting and rubbing his shaft as if trying to milk him dry. Splitter squirmed and moaned loudly, almost as loudly as he had in the night before coming. I pulled up, keeping a firm hand on him, and nodded.
“Coming already?” I said.
“No, no,” he said, practically begging me to believe otherwise. “It just feels so good!”
“I told you, didn’t I,” I said. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Splitter tilted his head back. I giggled a bit and went back to work.
If Splitter was to approach the point where he was about to come, I was going to stop and get on him. I was not about to make this a one-way street—heavens, no. This was going to be a mutually beneficial experience, even if he didn’t go down on me.
As it turned out, whether because men came more easily or I had just worked Splitter that well, I felt his dick stiffen so much that it told me he was on the verge of finishing. I came up for air, stepped off the bed, and took my pants off.
“Condom, now,” I demanded.
Splitter reached into the nearby desk drawer, pulled one out, and had it on before I had even gotten back on the bed. I imagined that now, I was the one who looked like a hungry animal; I was the one who didn’t just want Splitter but needed him. He was going to be my prey for the evening, and he just had to hope that I would have some level of mercy on him.
When I mounted him, such thoughts of mercy went out the window, especially since this was the first pleasure I had gotten aside from some mild clit rubbing as I pushed him back to the bed. I’m sure he enjoyed it, but I decided to be a little selfish. I tilted my upper body back, put my hands on his knees, and went to work as I inserted his cock.
I wanted to just collapse on his legs if the move wouldn’t have been so painful for both of us. My strength was fading under the pleasurable weight of the sex, like trying to hold up a soft bed that would massage me if I just let go. I closed my eyes, rhythmically bounced on him, and let the pleasure wash over me.
“Oh, fuck, Splitter.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d sworn until several seconds later, a delayed reaction from the enormous amount of hormones rushing through my body. And by that point, I was past caring if I had sworn. I’d make up for it at confession on Sunday. Which might take three hours at this rate.
Although I had complete control of Splitter at this point, I wanted to take control by giving it up. I wanted to do my favorite position, something that we hadn’t done yet but were in perfect position to do so.
I dismounted him, crawled forward, and grabbed a pillow, sticking my butt in the air.
“Do me from behind, Splitter,” I begged. “Do me.”
“How can I say no to something like that?” he said with a wicked grin.
I looked forward to the bed frame, closing my eyes as I anticipated his insertion. This was the best part of all—the moment right before when I knew it was going to feel good, but I couldn’t say when, exactly, it—
Oh my God.
Oh, yes, yes, yes!
Oh, I was so glad I could not have anticipated that because this was unfairly good.
I think it felt so good I almost began crying in pleasure. I gripped the bed sheets, howling as Splitter’s hips slammed into my ass as he drove himself deeper into me. I looked back, saw a real, true man staring at me, and nearly melted into the bed in pleasure.
Sure enough, it didn’t take but more than half a minute to have me climaxing. I tensed as I felt the orgasm building within me, threatening to break free and rush over my body at any second. Making it even better was that I could feel Splitter start to swell back up as well—he was panting as he had the night before, as he had just minutes before when I was going down on him.
“Splitter, come with me,” I said, tossing my hair around. “Please, fucking come with me!”
“Oh, my, God, Amber,” he growled, every word taking an enormous amount of effort to get out. “Amber, Amber, Amber… ohhh…. Ohhh….”
I closed my eyes as I felt myself reach the peak. The moment before. That spot when it would… all… come…
Out!
My moans were drowned out by the loud grunt that emitted from Splitter’s throat, sounding somewhere between a dog’s howl and a guttural roar. I buried my head into the pillow as I struggled to contain myself at the pleasure. This was… this was…
Speechless.
Words failed.
Just…
Sheer, unreal, unbelievable bliss.
Oh, my, God.
Oh, God!
Oh, God… yes.
I eventually couldn’t take more, begging for Splitter to stop moving. He finally did a couple of seconds later, giving me tension and pleasure so great, I was shivering. He leaned to the side, collapsed, and pulled me to him for cuddling.
“Wow,” I said. “Never does get bad, does it?”
He smiled, turned his head, and kissed my forehead.
“With you, it never does.”
I smiled and closed my eyes. We could do the work in a little bit.
But for now, I just wanted to enjoy the feeling of being wanted again, of being sexually desired, of being truly intimate with someone I cared about.
Chapter 15: Splitter
It took us about twenty minutes before we finally got out of bed, but once we did, the first thing I did was check my phone.
I saw the message I needed to.
“We got a picture of the names,” Trace had wrote. “Good work. Krispy and BK are moving out now.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I deleted the message—not be
cause I wanted to hide the evidence, but because I had felt extremely guilty about what had just happened. I had manipulated Amber, a woman I actually liked—I daresay more than liked at this rate—into having sex not for the pleasure of it, but so that one of the club members could sneak in, take a photo of her open laptop with the names on it, and then share it with the club.
Trace had gotten exactly what he needed so that the club could back me up with my trial. It had the names of the DMs, people that we could take out, and the names of the citizens that we could intimidate and extort into behaving as we wanted to at the trial—or not showing up at all.
And all it had taken, it seemed, was betraying the trust of Amber.
And the worst part was, I couldn’t tell her right now. Not after sex.
But it was going to get found out eventually. And when that happened…
Was life really worth living if all I was going to do was betray those whom I felt close and intimate with? The question seemed insane at first—of course life was worth it. But if all I did was live to be with those I cared about… and then I betrayed their trust…
What the fuck. Why had I stooped this low for my self-preservation? Why had I let fear of this trial hit me so much that I would take a religious woman who had just had a divorce to bed so that I could use sex to distract her while we stole her information?
I hadn’t even fucking asked her if she would give me the names! I could have easily avoided that problem by just asking her. But it was for her own good right now. I will come clean. I was scared of her telling me no and then compounding the issue further. This way she isn’t in the know that I know the names and if she had refused to give me the list it would cause a whole slew of internal problems because the Saints would take them regardless. I acted like a fucking coward and a fucking asshole, and I deserved what was to come but for now this was just easier and safer.
I’m not sure what was worse, that, or the fact that because BK and Krispy were about to go on some club runs, I had to prove where I was. I had to go out in public.
And that only meant more time for me to be with myself.
But by now, I’d been such a coward, and I wasn’t about to change it. And… I didn’t want to go to jail. Plain and simple.
I guess I could think one thing and say one thing all I wanted, but my actions said it loud and clear—I valued freedom over the feelings of Amber.
What a fucking asshole I am.
“Hey,” I said, turning to her as she walked out with her hair disheveled and her clothes still being put on with difficulty. “I don’t know about you, but that made me pretty damn hungry. You mind if I go and get some food?”
“Be quick though, will ya?” she said with a smile. “This place just isn’t the same without you here. I like the other Saints, but… an empty clubhouse to me is just a reminder of you once being here but not being now.”
“Jesus, you make it sound like I’m dead.”
She adopted a stern look, staring daggers at me.
“What? I didn’t swear—oh, right. Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” she said, leaning in to kiss me. “I just like giving you grief. It’s kind of fun watching you squirm with my rules.”
“Oh, so are you saying they aren’t rules now?”
She kissed me tight, and the feelings of guilt and shame continued to rise.
“Oh, no, if you want me around for the long haul, they’re still rules.”
The long haul… she’s really thinking about that, huh?
I guess… I guess if I weren’t such a dick, sneaking behind her back like this, I would be too.
“But I can forgive you every once and a while.”
“Oh, every once and a while,” I teased.
“If you want daily forgiveness, you have to see a priest,” she said, and then her eyes lit up. “Oh! You should come to church with me—no, that’s probably not a good idea. You would risk getting caught with me, and the paparazzi would have a field day with that. Dang it.”
“Well, we can’t hide from the world forever.”
I’m pretty sure I hadn’t considered the implication of those words until I said them. Something about saying the words out loud brought everything to the forefront; almost like the subconscious demanded that I vomit the words out before I had the chance to think about them.
“You know, if this works out, which I suppose is a conversation for a different day… we would need to be in public eventually,” I said. “We can figure out logistics, of course. I’d be looked at like a sore thumb next to you that’s for sure.”
“Maybe, yeah, but not as bad as you think,” she said. “Look, in any case, we have to focus on the case. Focus.”
Focus. Because if you don’t, you’ll remember how you’ve betrayed her trust without her even realizing it right now.
“Are you actually hungry?” she said. “I don’t get hungry easily. But, then again, I’m not a… how big are you? Two hundred?”
“Try two-fifty,” I said with pride, flexing my guns to show her just how big I was. “But yeah, I do need to eat frequently.”
I just didn’t mention that most of my food didn’t come from fast food and that this would be truly unusual. In fact, it would be completely out of character.
But that was the least of the things that I was hiding.
“Well, hurry up then,” she said, giving me one last kiss. “It’ll give me a chance to go over a few of the files so we can prepare some cross-examination practice.”
“You got it,” I said, grabbing her hand and letting go at only the last possible second before walking out the door.
And as soon as I got out that door, I muttered, “Fuck!” to myself as loud as I could. I just got to my bike, revved the engine, and drove to the nearest fast food place I could find that was open.
When I got my In-n-Out, I didn’t even bother to complete the meal. I had a few bites of it, but I was just so stressed and so disappointed in myself that I didn’t have much of an appetite. The only thing I was completely certain of was that I paid with a credit card so that my alibi would show I was at In-n-Out. Otherwise, I don’t think I could’ve been bothered to act in any fashion that supported the endeavor.
When I pulled up to the clubhouse, I checked my phone. I had a single text from Trace.
“Hey, we’re headed home now.”
Means they finished the job.
Maybe they killed some witnesses. Maybe they intimidated some.
What have I done?
I walked back into the clubhouse to a smiling and oblivious Amber. She had no idea what was going on, nor was I about to give her reason to.
At this point, our relationship, truthfully, if I could even call it that, was just a ticking time bomb.
Chapter 16: Amber
When Splitter first walked in after getting food, I had wanted to surprise him by telling him I’d spend the night at his clubhouse with him. I wanted to have one more round with him, wake him in the morning for a third round, and then move on with my day. It would have the advantage of releasing all our sexual energy and having a good time.
But when he got back, he seemed just so distracted and so distant that I couldn’t help but feel my libido drain bit by bit. On the heels of what was the best sex of my life—easily—I did not want to ruin it by confronting him about it. Perhaps it was a little bit of the avoidance that Splitter confessed to having.
In any case, though, because I never mentioned the idea of spending the night, I did not feel especially bad about leaving him. I did want more, but if Splitter was going to be as distant as he was, I did not want to press him into doing anything.
It was very confusing for me to try and make sense of it. Had he regretted the sex? Was there something about the trial that was starting to get to him? He did pretty well during the cross-examination in maintaining a calm demeanor—admittedly, I had not tried that hard to break him and make him emotional, but it wasn’t like I was pitching him softball questio
ns. He had taken my feedback about answering only the question and nothing more very well, and he had listened to my particular critiques.
And when I did leave, he gave a strong kiss and a big bear hug goodbye, leaving me to believe that it wasn’t anything to do with me. But what I intellectually believed and what I emotionally believed were two very different things. I knew logically that what I had done wouldn’t push Splitter away.
But emotionally…
It was moments like these that made me think that I needed not to be taking on cases, nor did I need to be dating so hot off of my divorce. Moments like these made me fear that I had made a grave mistake giving into the relationship with Splitter.
Just go home. You did your job tonight. You helped Splitter in preparation for the trial. You did what you need to do.
The words weren’t especially reassuring to me, but it was the best I could muster. As I drifted off to sleep that night, I found myself deciding that I had to ask him in the morning what had happened. I’d need to do it sooner rather than later, but I just couldn’t let things like that go unanswered.
If we were going to be something more than just a casual fling, conversations like that could not just be avoided until the last possible second. They had to be tackled head-on, on the spot, and without hesitation.
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t need long to start thinking about Splitter. My mind raced to what it had before I went to sleep—why had he been so distant? Why had he been so removed from me? What had been said that had prevented him from opening up?
He was violating my first rule, I knew. He was already violating my second one with some frequency, but I had let the rules slide more once we were becoming intimate. That might have been fine now, but it was going to be a problem the longer I let the rules slide. I really did strongly believe in not swearing, and while I would never expect Splitter to stop swearing altogether, I had to be stronger about getting him to not do it around me.
I decided that when I talked to him later that morning—as in, when he woke up—it would be something else I would mention. I didn’t want to think of it as a “big talk,” and I didn’t want him to get that impression, but better to have a kind of big talk now than have a much bigger talk in a couple of weeks.