IcySeduction

by Shara Lanel

  Dean’s phone beeped after Jake had parked in one of the rare parking lots that belonged to the apartment complex and didn’t charge for parking, unheard of in the city. They highly enforced their parking policy with patrolling tow trucks. The complex consisted of three matching buildings, each seven floors high with buzzer security. Jake had also installed a couple of extra locks on his door, though he probably didn’t need to be quite that paranoid. But this was his son he was talking about, and nothing was more precious to him, though he’d never tell Dean something so uncool. Their apartment was on the sixth floor, so he jogged up the stairs when he felt the need to be healthier. Not today though. He still ached, his shoulder especially, from his fabulous experience with Christine. He eyed Dean as the elevator creaked and groaned its way to their floor.

  Dean cupped his hand around his phone as he typed a reply to the texter, putting Jake on guard.

  “Who are you texting?”

  “No one.”

  Jake snagged the phone so he could read the screen.

  “Geez, Dad, how about some privacy!”

  “We talked about this when I got you that phone. Who’s Tishan?”

  “Just this girl at school.”

  They reached their floor, waited for the elevator doors to grind open, then Jake unlocked the four locks on the red door. The hallway was painted in an unpleasant and worn green while the short shag carpet was blue. Once inside, Dean tossed his backpack onto one of the kitchen chairs. He knew he had to do his homework before he could get on PlayStation.

  “I haven’t heard you mention her before. Is she in one of your classes?”

  Dean plopped into a chair and rolled his eyes…again. It was a wonder he didn’t get a strain from that. “She’s new in my art class and got added to my workstation.”

  “And she’s pretty?”

  “Yep.”

  Jake flipped the light switch so Dean could actually see his homework. He traipsed to the living room couch, its upholstery almost rubbed bare from age, and scooped up the handset to their home phone. Dean’s mother was on speed dial. Lynette answered just as her machine was clicking on. “Hello?”

  “This is Jake. I have a favor to ask you.” He listened as his ex’s new man swore at the TV. A crowd cheered in the background, so he was probably watching football.

  “What?” Lynn already sounded snippy.

  “Dean is doing good, by the way.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve called me if it had been otherwise.”

  “God, Lynn, what is up your ass?”

  “What’s the damn favor?”

  “Can you take Dean for a couple of days, maybe from this Friday to next Wednesday?”

  “Where are you going, may I ask?”

  Jake wanted to tell her she may not but that wouldn’t help her agree. “Florida.”

  “Why?”

  “Come on, Lynnette. Do I grill you every time you go out of town?”

  “You don’t know when I go out of town.”

  “No shit.”

  “And we’re going to be out of town this weekend. On Monday I start a week-long training class in Hoboken. Absolutely no time. He might as well stay at your place. Isn’t he old enough to stay alone?”

  “Jesus Christ!” He couldn’t help it. He went off on her with creative words until she hung up. “Dammit to hell!”

  Dean looked over from the table. “Do we need to start that swear word jar again?”

  Jake cracked a smile. “Not if you want me to send you to college.” He strode over and took the chair opposite his son. “I’ll just have to take you with me, right? I was just concerned about you missing school, but anywhere south will be better than here at this time of year, right?”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not going.”

  “So who do you propose to stay with?”

  Dean paused, a scowl on his face, most likely to review his list of friends in his head. “Let me call a couple people.”

  “Look, you can call and if it sounds good, I’ll talk to the parents, but if no one can take you, you’re coming with me. Why the hell wouldn’t you want to miss some school in a warm clime anyway?”

  Dean’s phone beeped again and he did the same hand-cupping thing and immediately set to texting back. Like a light bulb turning on, Jake realized why Dean didn’t want to go. It was this girl. “You can text her from Florida and she’ll be here when you get back.”

  Dean pushed his chair back suddenly and stomped to his room. “What about your homework?” If he answered, Jake couldn’t hear it over the slamming door. Shit, why did his mother have to be such a bitch? Yeah, these sounded like legitimate excuses, but he knew her. If she was going out of town for one day, she’d say she had no time the whole weekend. He could wait a couple of weeks and try her again, but he thought the response would be the same, though with new excuses. As eager as Jake was to see Christine, a week or more wouldn’t really make a difference. He could probably wait a year. Saron hadn’t given him an exact timeline for this mate thing.

  * * * * *

  Christine sat sideways in her car, door open, and eased off her pumps. Then she stripped off her pantyhose, blocking anyone’s view with creative skirt draping. Ah, her feet sighed. The asphalt was warm but not scorching like in summer. She was so glad the workday was over, but she wasn’t sure what to do this evening. Working Saturdays was the pits, but the overtime paid well, and everyone in the office did it this time of year. She felt too restless to hang out at home. It had been a full week since meeting Jake. He’d friended her on Facebook, but they didn’t chat about anything substantial—just where she lived and worked and how his son was doing in school. She didn’t know why it felt so awkward chatting with him even with the anonymity of the internet.

  She rubbed her foot and ankle, first one then the other. Everything that had happened up north seemed like a dream—a very confusing dream. How could she have done those things with Jake? She blushed just thinking about it. She knew she could never stand to see him again no matter how horny the memory made her. He would know her moment of weakness, her moment of sluttiness. What if he told one of her friends or coworkers? God, she’d die.

  If she could just get rid of this damn restless feeling. She’d dreamed about him last night, but the dream had swished away once consciousness hit her. Good. She didn’t want to remember. When she thought about the bathroom at the airport, she swore she’d been possessed by a demon. That could not have possibly been her. Since that had been a public place, she felt even more embarrassed than when she’d been with Jake in his room. She actually felt queasy whenever she remembered it. How could she for one second imagine doing…whatever…with another woman? She’d scared herself good with her recklessness. She’d had her adventure. Good. She wouldn’t wonder anymore. Now she needed to step away from the edge and return to normal life.

  A shadow fell over her feet, then her skirt. She looked up and saw the silhouette of a man who she immediately recognized as her coworker Kyle. They’d dated on and off for the past year—dinners and make-out sessions—but he’d never tried to push her for more and she knew he dated other women as well. He’d told her once he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so he wasn’t ready to jump into bed with anyone. A nice attitude, a rare attitude, and one that might lead others to question his sexuality, but he had that confidence that said he knew how he wanted to run his life and rumors wouldn’t change that.

  “No rush to get home?” He had a bulky, muscular build that seemed so at odds with his business attire. He’d taken her kayaking one weekend and it had been amazing to watch those well-defined muscles work so hard.

  “Not sure if I want to sit at home with the TV and a book or catch a movie or something.” She shaded her eyes with her hand as she squinted up at him. His blond hair touched his collar. During the summer months, it turned almost white from so much time in the sun. “I’m just restless, I guess.”

  “Woul
d you like me to help you with that?” There was no sexual innuendo in his serious tone.

  “Do you feel like doing something tonight?”

  “Do you ice skate?”

  She smiled. “Sort of. My butt’s very good at sliding on the ice.” He pulled her up to standing and she could finally see his features clearly. Suddenly a shot of desire flashed through her. It was weird, though. She’d never felt this strong pull on any of their previous dates.

  “How about you go home and change and unwind and I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Just what I need.” She leaned forward and hugged him and she suddenly wanted to climb all over him. As she drove home she felt all sensitized again, like in the airport, but she wasn’t fantasizing about Kyle. Her fantasies all centered on Jake. This would be the perfect chance to dispel her desire for Jake. She was going to go to bed with Kyle… He just didn’t know it yet.

  Jeans and a low-cut, thin sweater with a heavier buttoned sweater over that allowed her to be warm at the rink but shed a layer anywhere else. She finished her makeup standing in front of the hall mirror so she could keep an eye out the window. Not one to waste time acting reserved and mysterious, she went out as soon as Kyle drove up in his Audi. She was who she was. He got out and opened her door for her. God, she loved the smell of leather seats.

  “So do you want fine dining or hotdogs at the rink?”

  “Hotdogs sound good to me.”

  She was grateful to have Kyle’s arm when she first got out on the ice since she seemed to have forgotten some skating fundamentals, like how to stop. His substantial arm held her steady. And like learning how to ride a bike, she gradually skated on her own. She’d never be a great skater, but she could at least go fast enough to feel a breeze on her face and glide her feet in time to the music. Kyle was charming as usual but Christine was uncommonly turned-on. She realized it wasn’t because of Kyle specifically. When he’d left the rink and she tripped over a ridge in the ice and nearly fell face first, male arms caught her. A rich laugh sent her nerves zinging, and though she’d never seen this man in her life, she wanted to drag him to the bleachers to make out. Holy shit, she hadn’t turned into a slut overnight, had she? More than ever, she knew she wanted to bed Kyle, not only because of a great date but because she felt like a pressure cooker needing someone to trigger the release valve. Another night with a vibrator wasn’t going to quell this.

  “Come up for a nightcap?” she asked once he driven up to the front of her building. Her voice was husky and she leaned toward him, giving him a view of her cleavage.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah I’m sure, and I’m not expecting any strings, so don’t worry about your relationship status.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “All right then.”

  Once in her apartment, she said, “My bar is limited and my wine selection cheap. What would you like?”

  “Whisky?”

  She held up a bottle. “Got that here. Do you want it with Coke or something?”

  “No, straight up will do. What do you think of shots?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Since Christine disliked whiskey, she filled a shot glass with tequila and went to sit next to Kyle on the couch.

  She really liked the wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled. “Bottoms up.” One swallow and his glass was empty. Christine followed suit. Mmm, warmth and mellowness.

  “One more round?”

  She nodded and filled their glasses again. They drank and sat their glasses on the top of her squat, heavy coffee table. He cupped her chin with his warm hand and kissed her.

  * * * * *

  Jake’s eyes snapped open. He was in bed before eleven because he had to drive an early shift tomorrow, but he’d been having a very hard time sleeping. He kept dreaming about Christine, hot dreams blending his recent memories with fantasy. Good dreams to have, but his bedroom was starting to feel uncomfortably warm even with the blanket kicked off.

  But something outside the dream had startled him. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. Was it a sound? The normal noise of the city filtered through the walls, car alarms, honking horns and arguments. Because he was Dean’s father, he had no problem picking up the sound of Dean’s deep sleep. What about a smell? Smoke? He smelled Chinese food from the restaurant across the street and exhaust from the ever-awake cars below. He thought one of the apartments on his floor had a smoker because he smelled burning cigarette and sulfur from the once-lit match, but no out-of-the-ordinary smoke or burning smell.

  His eyes had been closed, so it obviously wasn’t something he’d seen. He relaxed his head on the pillow. What the hell was it? Probably part of his dream, which he couldn’t remember now. He tried to relax back into sleep and that was when he felt her, not like a skin-to-skin touch, but rather an awareness.

  He sat straight up. “Fuck!” Christine was kissing another man. Several states away, but he knew it was true because he could hear their lips mashing together and smell whiskey and some strange guy’s cologne. “God!”

  He closed his eyes and focused on that awareness, Christine’s consciousness or something like that. “You’re mine, only mine.” His voice was fierce, but he was talking to his empty bedroom. He had no idea if Christine could sense him at this point.

  He launched himself out of bed and stomped to the kitchen for a beer, distracted while he twisted open the bottle and examined the interior of the fridge for something to snack on. He settled for some chips in the cabinet. Food, beer, TV on, he stretched out on the couch and tried to concentrate on the late shows, switching between two channels. He took a long swig of beer and another feeling crashed through him. His balls tightened and his dick stiffened because Christine was aroused and being touched in places that were only for Jake.

  More beer. Dammit, was there some way to stop her? Call her in the middle of the night? Was she even home? And say what, “I’m your mate for life, so get your ass away from that jerk”? That would go over well and make him sound like a nut case.

  He closed his eyes and rode the wave of her desire, his dick hard and pressing against the front of his briefs. Maybe he should jerk off and ignore the rest, but he couldn’t ignore his woman being kissed and touched by someone else. He was jealous as hell. Couldn’t she feel the same pull as he did? No, she was human. Had she forgotten what they’d shared in such a short amount of time? With a low growl, he squeezed the beer bottle until it shattered. Great, he was about to drip blood onto the couch adding to the spill of beer. But then he felt the worst kick in the gut. He doubled over and tried to squeeze out the knowledge.

  He was on top of her. This interloper was about to fuck his woman.

  * * * * *

  While making out on the couch, Christine had had this weird sensation of eyes opening, watching her. It wasn’t a vision—she had no idea whose eyes, but it brought her out of her haze of arousal for a moment. For just a moment, she became fully aware of Kyle’s kisses, just a bit too wet, his tongue not quite doing it for her. She felt as if she was going through the motions, but she was determined to sleep with Kyle. She needed to prove to herself that she still enjoyed vanilla sex and that the who didn’t have to be Jake. When Kyle had suggested they try out her bed, she’d led him to her bedroom. He watched her strip and followed suit, pulling a condom from his pocket.

  “Always prepared,” he whispered with a smirk, lowering himself next to her on the bed. His kisses and touches felt great physically but her mind kept getting distracted by that feeling of being observed. Kyle perched over her, his dick solid, not overly long but nice and thick. She ran her palms up and down his chest and stomach as he settled his legs between hers. Christine reminded herself that she was enjoying everything Kyle was doing to her, sucking her breasts, swirling his fingers in her dampness, which was proof that she was fully into it…

  Except she wasn’t.

  Kyle’s cock was close to her entrance. Any second that thick shaft would fill her up. And she wanted something to f
ill her up. She’d been so horny ever since she’d left Jake. She bucked her hips, wanting playtime to be over, just wanting so badly to fuck.

  Then she threw up…a lot.

  “Holy shit!” Kyle jumped away from her. “What happened?”

  Christine couldn’t talk because she felt more bile crawling up her throat. She dashed to the bathroom and barely hit the toilet before the next wave. After a couple of minutes, she was left with only dry heaves. She leaned her cheek against the cool porcelain, but there was an all-over crappiness in her mouth and nostrils and throat. She’d had the flu a year ago but luckily no one had been around to witness her many dashes to the bathroom.

  “Christine, are you all right?” Kyle didn’t approach the bathroom, but she gave him props for not running screaming from her apartment.

  “I’m sorry,” she croaked.

  “Man, maybe it was that hotdog at the rink. Not exactly quality cuisine. Gross, but not at all your fault.” She heard both humor and concern in his voice. She tossed a clean towel from where she sat into the bedroom in case he needed it. She knew she was too lightheaded to stand and she knew this had nothing to do with the hotdog, because at the same time her stomach started to churn and heave, Kyle’s eyes turned into Jake’s and he looked pissed. Maybe her body was just telling her she didn’t feel right doing this with Kyle, but Jake’s eyes had been crystal clear and piercing and she had the certainty that he knew what she was about to do. But how could he?

  Feeling safe to stand, she flushed the toilet, washed her face and brushed her teeth, but she needed a shower desperately. She peeked out of the bathroom to find Kyle fully dressed sitting on her bed. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No big deal.”

  “Can we do a rain check…or maybe not?” She frowned. She knew she couldn’t attempt this with Kyle again. “I had such a good time tonight, though. Thank you.”

  He stood and crossed the room in two strides so he could peck her cheek—very brave of him in Christine’s opinion. “Call me if you need anything, like a drive to the emergency room.”