Turning the Tide (Eastern Shore Swingers, #5)

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Turning the Tide (Eastern Shore Swingers, #5) Page 21

by Phoebe Alexander


  “Yes, Sir,” she managed, her eyes immediately drawn to his cock as it sprang out of his boxer briefs and into her face.

  “Good, let’s get your mouth nice and full too.” He scooped her head up in his hand and guided her lips toward his waiting cock. As much as he loved torturing her, it came at a price: he was torturing himself too.

  He tried to conceal his appreciation for her oral skills as she took him deep into her throat. Despite his efforts, he still released one or two guttural moans, unable to hold them back and stay in dominant mode. “Good girl,” he coaxed her to take him deeper, and she willingly complied. She seemed to be on a mission to drive him to the brink so he would concede and take her.

  He reached down to grab the chain connecting her clamped nipples and tugged it gently, causing her to release the suction on his cock. “Don’t stop sucking me,” he instructed. Then he snaked his hand down her torso to the dildo before he commanded her once again not to come. He moved it in and out of her body at an agonizingly slow pace as she groaned and increased the intensity of her long pulls on his cock.

  She broke away a moment later, panting desperately. “Fuck, please let me come. I can’t hold back any longer!” Her cheeks, neck and chest were flushed with desire, her eyes imploring, begging him for mercy.

  He growled and physically forced her mouth back down on him, driving deep into her throat. He let go of the dildo, and as his hand moved back up her body, he felt how badly her thighs were trembling. She began to quiver all over with need as he fucked her face.

  Finally, he intuited she was near her breaking point, and if he was honest, so was he. He released his hold on her head, pulling back until she let go of his cock. He yanked on the nipple clamp chain again, making her cry out, before he positioned himself between her throbbing thighs. “Would you rather have this dildo in you or my cock?”

  She looked at him, still pleading for mercy. She was nearly beyond speech, she was so desperate for release. “Your cock,” she eked out. It was all she had to say before he withdrew the dildo and tossed it on the bed beside her. Then he fisted his cock and guided the tip to her entrance.

  “You still can’t come until I tell you,” he instructed. He started to wrap his arms around her, wishing he’d released her arms first so she could return his embrace. No, this is about her, he reminded himself...about giving her the strongest orgasm...and he knew that always happened when she was forced to wait. He realized she didn’t answer him, her voice lost somewhere in subspace.

  He pulled back onto his knees and continued to tease her clit with the head of his cock while she writhed below him. This was the most incredible feeling—this sense of power, power she had freely given him. And in return, he would give her nothing but his very best.

  “Please, Sir,” she found her voice, and it broke through his thoughts, a reminder of how desperate his own need for release had become. His balls ached as they rested against the sheets. He wanted nothing more than to impale her, but he was going to force himself to take things slowly. He remembered the butt plug at that moment and moved to pull it out and then back in.

  Her body lifted off the bed involuntarily as if he’d shocked her with electricity. “Oh, god, you can’t do that—I will lose it for sure—”

  He decided to put them both out of their sweet misery as he slid in, inch by luscious inch, feeling her clench around him in the most delicious way. She was soaking wet, and so hot that he felt her heat sear into his own, mingling there like two flames licking each other, each battling to shoot higher and burn hotter than the other.

  She moved her hips, grinding into him, trying to take him deeper until he couldn’t take it any longer and drove into her to the hilt. He lifted her calves up till her feet rested on his shoulders, then he dug his fingers into her thighs for support as he drilled into her steadily. His head thrown back, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last, let alone force her to keep her climax at bay. Her muscles were tightening; he could feel how precariously she was suspended on the edge, hanging by a thread.

  He cried out as he realized how futile resistance was at this point. “Come with me,” he panted out as he increased the pace and depth of his thrusts, faster and deeper than he’d ever gone.

  She screamed out then, all her energy blasting through her from her core to her mouth. It was so powerful, she quickly swept him under the waves of her roaring tide, burying him beneath her passion and forcing him to relinquish his seed deep inside her.

  After untying her and pulling her close to his chest, he fell asleep listening to her heart beat...wondering if it was any closer to surrender.

  SEVENTEEN

  In marriage, as in war, it is permitted to take every advantage of the enemy. – Oscar Wilde

  They’d set up a makeshift conference table in the bar area. Around the table were Luke, Connie, both Calvin Sr. and Jr., and Luke’s lawyer, Theodore Newsome, who went by “Ted.”

  Luke yawned. He wasn’t used to sleeping with another person in the bed next to him; he’d fallen out of practice through the years. Connie was a restless sleeper, and she’d ended up in all manner of positions before he’d firmly spooned her, pulling her body close to his and wrapping his arms around her so tightly she could barely move. It was like she needed secure boundaries just to fall asleep.

  That said, he was also partially to blame because he’d woken up every hour or so in disbelief that it was actually happening, that he was actually sleeping with this beautiful woman. As strange a turn as his life had taken the past few weeks, the good seemed to outweigh the bad, which was saying a lot because the bad seemed pretty damn horrible.

  Which his lawyer was just about to magnify. He loaded a flash drive into his laptop and turned it toward Luke. “This is the camera footage that Dr. Thompson’s attorney sent me,” he said, the only preamble to the grainy video image that suddenly appeared on the screen.

  It didn’t have any sound, but it was clearly two figures making out. Luke had to look closely and squint to verify it was, in fact him. There was no doubt, you could see the tuft of his hair, his unmistakable hairline and the outline of his jaw. What wasn’t clearly visible was the woman’s features. It was like the camera was angled right at his face. It was obvious there was another person there, someone much shorter, but her identity was not apparent.

  It dawned on him immediately, and when he flashed his gaze toward Connie, she seemed to realize it at the exact same moment. It was them. In the men’s restroom at work.

  “That’s not Jasmine!” Connie blurted out, her eyes wide. “And why are there cameras in the men’s restroom?”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t know! I didn’t put them there. But, yeah, that is not her.”

  “But the woman in question, a Jasmine Alvarez, has signed a sworn affidavit that she appears in the video,” Ted stated.

  “I could sign a sworn affidavit too,” Connie offered. “Seriously, this is stupid. There is no evidence of him having an affair with Jasmine.”

  “But he is with you...is that my understanding?” Ted questioned, looking from Connie to Luke. “Either way, it’s still cause for dismissal from the partnership. The agreement you and Jim signed is pretty airtight.”

  “Considering he’s sleeping with my wife, I feel like the agreement ought to be null and void,” Luke retorted with a heavy sigh.

  “Do you have evidence of that?” Ted asked, leaning forward with his hand tapping the table rhythmically. He was clearly getting sucked into all the drama.

  “We sure do,” Calvin Sr. answered, pulling some photographs out of a manila file folder. He passed the four photographs around. It was much clearer evidence implicating both parties than the video from the bathroom.

  “My equipment is a lot better than his,” Calvin Jr. said with a wink. He meant better cameras, but Connie almost lost her battle not to laugh. Luke firmly gripped her knee under the table, distracting her just in time before the laughter burst out.

  “I’m goi
ng to talk to his lawyer again,” Ted said. “Can we make copies of these?”

  “You can keep those,” Calvin answered. “Those are copies.”

  “Dr. Thompson is married, yes? With children?” Ted verified.

  Luke nodded. “Two are still at home, I think.”

  “He has as much to lose in this as you do,” Calvin agreed, following the lawyer’s train of thought.

  “Well, he might personally and socially, but he didn’t violate the contract,” Ted pointed out. “He may be trying to use this thing with Jasmine as blackmail in case you do want to go public with his affair with your wife. I mean, Berlin and Ocean City are both small towns. You having an affair with a single nurse who just moved here—”

  “We actually met outside of work,” Luke interjected, “before we knew we’d be working together.”

  “Right, I mean that’s a little more forgivable than fucking your partner’s wife.” Ted glanced around the table. “Pardon my French.”

  “We’re in a swinger club,” Calvin Jr. said. “Don’t worry about the language.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Do we have any more information about Jim’s Mob ties?” Luke directed his question to Calvin, Sr.

  “We’re still looking for the exact link, but a couple of those guys have done time on drug-related charges—selling and distributing—and one had an aggravated assault. They definitely aren’t Boy Scouts. But we are looking into possible connections, especially with drug trafficking—or even human trafficking.”

  Luke’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. It was nearly impossible for him to imagine that his wife and partner could be messed up in anything so disgusting and evil. He’d known them both for decades and would have never fathomed they’d be pulled over to the dark side. Then he flashed back to that last conversation he had with Barbara, when she’d stormed out of the house with her things. He knew something in her had snapped, had changed. It wasn’t the same narcissistic, mildly emotional abusive woman he’d lived with for twenty-five years. There was something much more sinister lurking underneath, and they were beginning to uncover what it was. He hoped.

  Nothing had been decided for certain at the meeting. Ted was going to talk to Jim’s lawyer, and Calvin Sr. was going to continue hunting for the missing link between Jim and the Mob. It was Friday, and Calvin didn’t expect much would happen over the weekend. Plus the crowd would be descending upon The Factory that evening. He knew he and Connie only had a few hours of peace together before the crew came in to set up for that night’s party, which had a black and white theme.

  Leah had given them access to the staff bathroom so they could have some privacy during the raucous weekend. She apologized about not being able to spare an empty room during the club’s member hours.

  “It’s fine,” Luke had assured her, “we’ll just party like we’re twenty-one and retire to the dungeon when everyone leaves.”

  “You can party for me, too,” Leah had said, wiping sweat off her brow. “Infant twins and a toddler are like a late-night party every night. If I’m lucky, I might actually get to bed before you guys do.”

  “I hope you do,” Connie said. “Hey, I don’t know what your plans are this weekend, but if you want to rest during the day, bring those babies in here, and I’ll give you a break. I miss my grandbabies something fierce!”

  “Oh, be careful what you ask for, lady!” Leah laughed as she headed toward the back door.

  Connie slipped into a stunning white dress that clung to her curves and did her makeup how her sister taught her, while Luke dressed in simple black trousers and a white button-down shirt. “Are you sure I don’t need a tie?” he asked, still looking in the mirror. His facial scruff had grown out a little, and with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, a bit of silvery chest hair peeked out.

  “No, you look hot as hell just like that.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Here, let’s roll up your sleeves. Relax a bit, Luke. Look more casual. You’re not Dr. Cannon here, you know.”

  “I know.” He rolled his eyes then snapped them to hers, taking in the way her baby blues sparkled in the light coming off the vanity. “Look at you, though!” He spun her around before pulling her into his embrace. “You look good enough to eat!”

  “Oh, please!” She waved him off dismissively.

  “Are you ready to head downstairs?” He had some plans for the night, and they mostly hinged on getting Connie a bit inebriated.

  “Sure.” She linked arms with him. “Let’s go.”

  Connie was on her third drink, and she and Casey were having a sisterly argument about who had it tougher at home when they were growing up. Casey insisted Connie had it easier because she was the baby and got everything she wanted, while Connie insisted that their parents gave up on her sister by the time she was a teenager—conceding that Casey was a wild child who could not be tamed—which only made them keep much tighter reins on Connie when she was the same age.

  “That’s crap!” Casey argued. She could clearly hold her liquor better than her little sister. “Don’t you remember when I got grounded my junior year? I even had to miss the prom! There’s no way Mom and Dad would have let you miss a prom. Mom loved getting you all dolled up so much more than me.”

  “That’s because you always wanted to wear such slutty dresses!” Connie slurred. She turned to where Luke and Joshua were sitting, wildly entertained by the whole spectacle playing out before them. “Seriously, her senior prom dress had a slit up to here!” She pointed to a spot just below her lady parts.

  They launched into some other comparison just as Luke signaled the bartender for another drink—one of those frothy pink numbers Connie loved. He gave a thumbs up when the bartender poured in a little extra liquor.

  A few minutes later, he told them he was going to the restroom, then he grabbed Cap and headed for the storage room behind the bar that led to the back door. “You’re sure you don’t mind me taking your truck,” he verified.

  Cap flashed him a grin. “Well, I still think you’re batshit crazy, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”

  Luke nodded, adrenaline starting to pump into his body, bolstering him for what he planned to do. “I’m tired of all her games. It’s time to go on the offensive.”

  Those were his last words before Cap slapped him on the back and shoved the keys into his hand. Luke gripped the keyring as he ventured down the back stairs and out the door into the warm June night.

  The calendar had just flipped over to June first. May had been bombshell after bombshell exploding all around him. He was bound and determined to take the bull by the horns this month.

  He drove to the address Calvin Sr. had given him via text. Calvin Jr. had texted to verify Barbara was at the Thompson’s beach house, and he was waiting down the street in case anything went south. Luke couldn’t possibly think of what might go awry, especially since he was fairly certain Jim hadn’t returned from New York yet. But it was nice to know he had backup.

  What’s she going to do, shoot me? he questioned as he pulled up alongside the house and turned off the ignition in Cap’s truck. He stepped down from the cab and onto the sidewalk, then made his way up the concrete path to the front door, which had a beautiful beveled glass inlay. He had already decided if she wouldn’t open the door, he was going to bust his way in. Connie would be livid if she noticed him missing, so he needed to wrap this up quickly. Best case scenario: Connie would pass out sooner or later with Casey there to take care of her, and she’d be none of the wiser that he’d even left.

  Luke rang the doorbell first, trying to do things the civilized way, like his parents had taught him. That’s really the issue, he realized when no one came to the door. I’ve spent my whole life being “the nice guy,” letting people walk all over me—especially the bitch beyond that door—and I’m fucking sick of being that guy.

  Fists pummeling the door, he yelled, “You better come open this door, Barbara, or I’m going to bust all the glass, an
d I bet your boyfriend wouldn’t like that much!”

  It was the first time in years he had stood up to her. He depressed the doorbell about five more times before pounding again for good measure. He didn’t relish the idea of getting his hands all cut up. He figured he was going to need them for surgery again someday—though he had no clue if it would be at Atlantic General or somewhere else far away.

  “I wonder if Costa Rica needs a good ENT,” he mumbled under his breath. He wished he had a crowbar, something to break the glass. Figuring Cap, the notorious outdoorsman and boat captain, probably had something that would fit the bill, he stormed back to the truck. Sure enough, in the bed was an ax. That’ll do, he decided.

  Seconds later, he was chopping into the door frame, and the glass suddenly shattered at his feet. He heard a scream inside the house as he kicked the door open, kept the ax in his right hand, and stepped inside, carefully avoiding the glistening shards.

  “Where are you?” he shouted through the still air. “I just want to talk. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Suddenly a figure appeared in the hallway. It was Barbara, wrapped in a pink robe with some sort of mud mask on her face. There were eyeholes through which she glared. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She was taking a bath, he surmised. Oops.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he threw the question back in her face. “This is Jim’s house.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware.” She stomped toward him, and as he got closer, he noticed the mud on her face had cracked and settled into her fine lines and wrinkles and her eyes and mouth. She looked straight out of a horror movie. He was scared of confronting her, but even he hadn’t imagined a scene this comically frightening.

  “What do you want?” she snapped again in her old voice. He was used to being on the receiving end of that condescending tone. It didn’t begin to faze him.

 

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