Wicked Intentions

by Linda Verji

  That he could deal with. Not bothering to correct her perception that this was more than just a one-night stand, Nathan smiled. “You’ll like it.”

  He leaned across their seats, eliminating the distance between them and sealed her lips with his. She opened up to him like a rose on a spring morning, her lips teasing his with equal ferocity. Her dainty hand curved over his jaw stroking him as they kissed and heightening his desire.

  Even as he kissed her, Nathan was aware of every bit of her; her soft sighs whenever he played with her bottom lip, her sweet scent and the feel of her naked thigh under his palm. He squeezed her thigh before smoothing his hand higher up. She took a sharp breath at his movement and her lips stilled underneath his. He parted their lips, his eyes meeting hers in question as he eased his hand between her inner thighs, each upward movement pushing the skirt of her dress up.

  Her acquiescence was slow but finally it came. It was just a little part of her legs but it was enough for Nathan. He lowered his lips back to hers as his hand completed its journey; a slow slide over her smooth skin before ending at the clothed junction between her thighs.

  Nathan was already rock-hard but the first touch of her pussy was like taunting a starving man with cake. He could feel her heat even through the silky fabric that met his fingers. Shakira’s fingers tightened on the nape of his neck when he cupped her pussy and her legs parted even further in silent plea for him to do more.

  He did.

  He tucked his middle finger in the valley between her pussy lips and rubbed. The fabric was no match for him and soon her wetness seeped through telling him he was doing something right. Her caught breaths and mewls, as he played with the pearl at the top of her pussy, stroked his ego but he wanted Shakira screaming. He wanted her to beg him to replace his finger with his cock and moaning his name when he finally did.

  Soon.

  Very, very soon.

  She nipped at his bottom lip in reprimand when he moved his hand away from her hot as coal pussy and to the edges of her panties. The sound of tearing fabric filled the almost silent interior of the car.

  It was only once Nathan tore her panties off that Shakira realized that this was really happening. She, Shakira Dalton, was actually on the verge of having a one night stand. Some part of her brain kept whispering that this was not her. She’d spent her whole life being everything Eve was not. A night with a man she barely knew was just the kind of thing Eve would’ve – had - done.

  The louder voice insisted ‘why not’. She didn’t have anyone to be faithful to anymore, epic proportions were not big enough words to express the kind of attraction she felt for Nathan and she needed a good toss in the bedroom. Maybe Eve and London had it right. Care about your pleasure today and worry about the consequences tomorrow.

  She hardly had time to settle on her decision, before Nathan’s finger met her naked pussy. She jerked in her seat at the immediate sensation. Her senses seized, and her lungs locked and her pussy clenched. Nathan swallowed her strangled gasp as he spread her wetness around before tweaking her clit.

  His touch was as deliberate as it was expert. It wove a spell of desire in her that had the fireworks going off. But those fireworks were nothing compared to the storm that built when he pressed one finger into her. Shakira tore her lips from his, tucking her head into his shoulder as she reveled in the sensations of his finger plunging in and out of her.

  Her body was one large nerve attuned only to Nathan and the things he was doing to her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as he fingered her and she dug her own digits into the soft fabric covering his shoulders struggling to hold on but it was all in vain. One more rhythmic in and out plunge of his finger and she fractured in a powerful climax.

  “I need to get you in the house,” his gravelly voice cut into her ragged and shallow breathing.

  Shakira had no idea a man could move that fast. She barely had any time to catch her breath before Nathan was out of the car and striding towards her side of the car. She took his hand willingly as he helped her exit the car. The blast of icy cold air that hit her was almost enough to force common sense back into her – almost. Even if she would have wanted to think clearly – which she didn’t – Nathan’s fast steps up the stairs would’ve prevented it.

  He didn’t even bother switching on the lights. The moment the door closed behind them, he had her pressed up against the hard wood and her thighs grasping his flunks.

  “You taste so good,” he whispered in between fiery kisses. Shakira wanted to tell him that he did too but she’d never been much of a bedroom talker. She answered him by cupping his jaws and swooping in for another kiss. He massaged her ass pushing up the skirt of her dress with each stroke until all that was left between them were his jeans.

  He growled throatily when she pressed her naked pussy against his clothed cock. The sound of zipper lowering and latex rustling punctuated their hushed breathing. It was only when Shakira felt the blunt head of his dick pushing against her entrance that she realized what was going on. Her first instinct was to drop her legs but the immediate tingling that soared through her body was enough to keep her in his arms.

  “Shit.” His pushing in was as insistent as his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth. His grip on her thighs was firm as was the rod slowly making its way into her cavern.

  It felt so good.

  He felt so good.

  Her walls gripped and massaged him urging him deeper into her. His entrance almost seemed never-ending and when his pelvis finally touched hers, she let out a whoosh of breath that was abruptly cut off when he slid out then plunged in. Hard.

  “Nathan!” her scream was unintentional as it was strange.

  He chuckled then did it again

  “Oh. Oh. O…” her mouth stayed open as she silently screamed with each hard deep plunge. The world stopped on its axis, the hard wood pressing into her back disappeared and all that remained was the hard man holding her, surrounding her, in her.

  “Fuck,” he groaned as his lips met hers in a punishing kiss to match his deep strokes inside her. The tension in Shakira built up as the ride overwhelmed her. Heat curled up in the pit of her stomach and her pussy contracted around him.

  “Nathan,” she whimpered as the sharp wave of her orgasm hit her. He continued driving in and out of her until he reached his own peak. He came with a groan.

  For a moment they just stood there with him holding her up against the door and still inside her. Shakira tucked her head into his shoulder taking deep breaths tinged with his masculine scent. The angel inside her shook its head while the devil inside her crowed.

  Being bad for one night was worth it, wasn’t it?

  Early dawn caught Shakira creeping around the bedroom picking up her clothes. She didn’t know what the protocol was for waking up after a one-night stand and she sure as hell wasn’t staying to find out. The soft sun rays peeking through the grey drapes were enough light for her to see what she was doing. In the morning light her decision to have one night of torrid sex with a perfect stranger seemed stupid. This was not her style at all. What had she been thinking?

  She bent to pick up her dress that was bunched up at the foot of the bed. Her back cramped with the effort as did her lower body.

  Damn Nathan!

  Her eyes flew to him. He lay sprawled on the bed, arm slung over his eyes and chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. The grey comforter stopped just below his navel hinting at the goodies below. Once hadn’t been enough for him; neither had twice. She wanted to tell him it was enough but then his kisses had her toes curling and soon she was begging for round three.

  Oh God! What did I do? Heat flushed through her body as she remembered all the nasty things they’d gotten up to. How the hell was she going to face him after today? With any luck their next and last meeting would be when he handed her back the keys to her apartment. Maybe she could get London to get her keys to avoid ever seeing Nathan again.

  She mulled over how to b
lackmail London to do it as she searched the room for her bra. It was draped conveniently on the headboard above Nathan. Careful not to make any noise and wake up him up, she crept towards the bed. In the morning light his features were soft and relaxed but that didn’t minimize their impact. If anything it only made her want to bend and place her lips against his to confirm that they tasted just as good this morning as they had last night.

  Resisting the impulse, she reached for her bra – just as Nathan stirred.

  She held in her sharp intake of breath as her gaze flew to him. Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up. He didn’t. He turned on to his side away from her. Shakira let out her breath in a soft whoosh before picking the bra. Afraid that she’d wake him up if she stayed any longer in the room, she gathered up her clothes in her arms then left closing the door softly behind her.

  He hadn’t changed much about her living room. Her grey couches still dominated the small space with the multicolored throw pillows strategically placed around them. The bookshelf that faced the large mirror she’d placed on one wall to make the room seem even larger was still there only a collection of thrillers and classic novels had now replaced her self-help books.

  Some part of her was happy that he liked her style enough to keep it but mostly she just felt sad. If he’d changed up some things this wouldn’t feel so much like home and like Eve had ripped up a part of her. Pushing her melancholic feelings aside, Shakira dressed quickly, tamed her hair into a ponytail then called a cab. While she waited, she wrote a note to Nathan promising to get him the rest of his money by the next day and placed the one thousand five hundred dollars her mother had left her on the coffee table.

  It took the cabbie barely fifteen minutes to get her to London’s building.

  “Who is it?” Amani’s voice called out when she pressed the buzzer.

  Oh damn! Who needed this drama in the morning?

  “It’s Shakira. Is London up yet?”

  Amani’s answer was curt. “She’s not in.”

  “Could you buzz me up so I can wait for her?”

  “No.” And the bitch left it at that. No matter how much Shakira pressed on the buzzer after that she didn’t answer. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough that she was doing the walk of shame in last night’s dress and no panties, now she had to wait outside.

  Shakira stood against the wall, looking longingly at Jeanine and wishing she’d carried the keys to the car last night – at least she could’ve waited in it. Luckily one of London’s neighbors came out of the building a few minutes later. With a quick thanks, Shakira darted into the building.

  It was almost as if Amani and Farah had just been waiting for her. As soon as she knocked on the door, it swung open and they shoved the duffel bag containing her clothes and her car keys in her face.

  Shakira heard Farah’s triumphant “Bye” before the door slammed in her face.

  This was one of those times she wished she had some hands on her. She was ready to knock down the door and fight the two girls. Only the recognition that she couldn’t even win a fight with her own hair made her stomp away in a huff.

  “Where are you?” London asked almost four hours later.

  “At a motel,” Shakira said into the phone as she looked around her current accommodation. The single room could have fit into her kitchen and still left some space even with the adjunct bathroom.

  The walls were papered in a flowery pink and green wallpaper that looked like it’d just stepped off the boat from 1743. The only furnishing was a the bed Shakira currently sat on that was covered in a comforter in a gunk shade of green to match the atrocious wallpaper, a rickety chair and a small TV that was currently playing reruns of the Golden Girls. Though it was by no means the Ritz, it was clean and pocket friendly.

  “Why’d you do that?” London protested. “I told you you could stay with me.”

  Shakira thought of telling her how Amani and Farah had kicked her out but she didn’t want to bring more trouble into their already fragile roommate relationship so instead she said, “Babe, you know how I like my own space.” Then to quickly change the subject, she asked, “So how did your night go with Enzo?”

  “Oh, you know. We talked, played a little music, watched the stars…”

  “Watched the stars?” Shakira guffawed. “I bet he wanted to do a lot more.”

  “I told you we’re just friends,” London dismissed. “How did your night with Mr. Nathan Hollis go?”

  “It went well,” Shakira hedged.

  “Oh. No. I want all the details. Get nasty with me.”

  “Girl, Charlie has nothing on this man.” Shakira settled on the bed with the phone on her ear and a smile on her face as she recounted her night.

  In the morning, she woke up to dry taps. The bucket of water they brought her was as tepid as last week’s tea. By the time Shakira exited the miniscule bathroom she was ready to pay Nathan so she could get out of this place. Her first stop was the bank where they proceeded to ruin her Monday morning.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Dalton your account has been frozen,” the branch manager pronounced.

  CHAPTER 7

  “What do you mean the FBI froze my account?” Shakira exclaimed. Her voice carried beyond Wayne’s office drawing askance looks from two lawyers who were passing by.

  Wayne walked to the door and shut it before turning back to Shakira. His look was apologetic as he explained, “According to the bank, they received a notice to freeze your accounts immediately after your arrest.”

  “Why? Why would they want to take my money?” she asked, her mind reeling in confusion. She knew enough criminal law to know that an arrest was not enough to get your money frozen unless you were in for some financial crime. “And isn’t the bank supposed to notify me?”

  “They did notify you,” Wayne said as he settled back behind his desk. Except for his head of copper curls and the freckles that marred the pale skin underneath his eyes and nose, he was the picture of the suave successful lawyer. He’d color coordinated an expensive navy suit, with a striped purple, white and blue shirt along with a purple tie to match it. A silver Rolex and platinum cufflinks gleamed at his wrist subtly hinting at his net-worth.

  Like him, his office was the picture of elegant opulence. The large space boasted a beige carpeted floor, plywood walls, a floor to ceiling window with a stunning view of Manhattan’s skyline and a glass sliding door that opened out to the rest of Green, Green & Becket. The furniture was all black leather, sleek steel and polished dark wood.

  Everything about Wayne and his firm screamed money. He added, “The bank sent you a letter to your house notifying you of the freezing.”

  “Why would they send a letter to my house? I wasn’t even-” Shakira stopped speaking because her temper was on the verge of spilling over. It wasn’t Wayne’s fault that the FBI, her bank and her mother who’d sold the house where her mail had been sent were all assholes. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she stared at the ceiling and counted to twenty.

  Wayne interrupted her at fourteen. “You don’t need to worry about it. With you released without charges it should be easy to get your assets unfrozen in a week or less.”

  Releasing her nose, she focused on him. There was a hopeful note in her voice as she asked, “You think so?”

  “I do.” He nodded as a large smile spread across his face and creased the edges of his eyes drawing even more attention to the freckles there. “You’re with Green, Green & Becket and we always take care of our clients.”

  She sagged in her seat in relief. The bank had only left her with the state’s mandatory one thousand seven hundred dollars but that would be enough to carry her until the end of the week or even longer. The thought of money cut her relief short.

  “Wayne, I don’t have much money to pay you.” Picking up her bag, she searched for her wallet as within it as she said, “I mean I could give you a two hundred dollar ret-”

  Wayne stopped her. “You don’t need to worry about it, Shakir
a. This one’s on me.”

  She looked up at him in shock. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She’d known a lot of kindness from people in her lifetime but it rarely came from people who lived in gilded cages as Wayne did. Eve’s own step-brother, a real estate mogul, had pretended he didn’t even know Shakira when she’d gone to his office to plead for aid with her university costs.

  Wayne was the last person she’d expected to help her. He and Charlie had been university buddies and somewhat friendly. When he’d approached her offering his services Pro Bono after her first lawyer had ditched her, she’d been baffled – grateful but nonetheless baffled.

  His spirited defense at the trial despite his disbelief in her innocence had convinced her that he only meant well. His kindness was as unexpected as it was appreciated.

  “I don’t know what to say, Wayne,” Shakira said. “I don’t know how I can thank you.”

  “Just a hug would be good enough.” He laughed. She wasn’t sure if he was kidding or serious but a hug was the least she could do. She stood and crossed over to his side of the desk. He hopped to his feet and drew her into his arms.

  Wayne was taller than she was and her head only touched his chin. His cologne imbued her senses as she pressed her body closer to his lean tall length. He was a handsome man with a good physique – her body should’ve been lighting up in all sorts of celebration. But it felt almost like hugging London; comforting, innocent and definitely no sparks. Maybe the night with Nathan had soothed her hormones.

  He held her for a bit longer than appropriate before releasing her. When she looked up at him, his mouth was cocked at an odd angle and his eyes were heavy lidded. She knew that look. Obviously Wayne’s hormones didn’t agree with her assessment of the hug.

  His next words only confirmed it. “…and maybe dinner tonight?”

  “Um…um…um.” She frantically tried to ferret for a good excuse why she couldn’t go to dinner with him but Shakira had always been hopeless in situations that required quick thinking. “Um…sure.”