Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  “Fuck it,” I gasp in his mouth. “Fuck it nice and hard.”

  Once again, his ample inches are stretching me out, as my lips crash against his. My arms go around his neck, my hard nipples brushing against his chest. His tongue slides past the seam of my mouth, just before he spreads my ass cheeks. I feel Ray’s throbbing cock along my crack. I stay still and lean back, in eager anticipation of what is about to follow. With his cock-head centering on my ring, my entire body quakes. It eases inside of me, causing my jaw to drop. My lustful cry resounds through the walls of the living room as they push in. I am filled up with each and every inch of their cocks, pleasure coursing through my body. Michael pulls his hands away from me, and reaches up to my breasts. Ray leans in as I feel them both pressing tight into me. I squeeze my eyes shut and toss my head back, losing myself in the delightful moment.

  “It’s so fucking tight,” Ray grunts, planting a kiss on my shoulder. When I open my blurry eyes again, I realize that this can become even better. Dean is standing naked in front of me, his heavy balls less than an inch over the couch. I waste no time. I lean forward, desperate to please him some more. Opening my mouth wide, I suckle him inside, sticky pre-cum spreading across my tongue. All three of them are inside me now, sending me into realms of uncharted pleasure. Michael is thrusting away against my thighs, leaving more than half of his inches in my soaking wet pussy with every withdrawal, and shoving himself all the way in with every push. Ray’s hands are gripping my hips, filling my ass over and over with his entire length. Dean is bucking into my mouth, my tongue swirling across him. Michael’s lips are all over my breasts, kissing and licking my nipples, the delicious warmth making me writhe against him.

  “Are you ready to cum again?” Ray’s rasp in my ear is more than I can handle. The whole room is spinning around me, and I scream like I’ve never screamed before as my orgasm erupts through me like a volcano. My body is quivering, my climax rippling through me as I hold on tight to Michael’s shoulders. With an even deeper groan, Ray drives himself all the way into my ass. I can feel his cock pulsing and jerking within my depths while Michael’s legs are trembling underneath me. Within moments, the thick blasts of their juices are filling me again and again. Dean won’t pull himself out of my mouth. His own juices spurt all over my tongue and down my throat, my lips loosening around his shaft as his abs ripple. One by one, they ease out of me. I turn around and sit heavily down on the couch, shots of adrenaline still roaring through my body.

  “Boys…” Michael gasps out. “Get dressed and meet me out on the balcony. We need to talk.”

  I wait for them to clear the room, breathing in pants. I get up and collect my clothes from the floor. I sprint towards the bathroom down the corridor, well aware of how this night is going to end. After a quick shower, I tiptoe back out into the living room, praying that they are still outside. My wish comes true. None of them has ventured back in. They’re alongside each other, their backs turned to me. I glance at them, knowing that this may well be the last time I ever lay my eyes on them. If only I had the heart to join them outside, hug them and thank them for giving me the best vacation a girl can ever dream of having. But even if I did, the next part would devastate me. I would have to say “goodbye” to them. I’d have to bid farewell to a heart of gold, an easygoing charmer and a macho biker who all turned my world upside down. With tears blurring my vision, I turn around and walk out of the suite, and out of their lives.

  Dean

  “Man, that was fucking intense,” I comment, leaning my elbows on the railing. “I don’t know what the hell came over me.”

  “Neither do I,” Ray admits. “I guess we all thought we’d never see her again, and when we did, we just…” he pauses, “pounced.”

  “Sharing her with you two wasn’t part of my plan,” Michael says, gazing over the sea. “It’s what she wanted, though. I wasn’t going to spoil it for her.”

  “Why?” Ray shrugs his shoulders. “You just said she changed her mind about our arrangement. Couldn’t she tell us to get out of here so she could spend the night with you? She’s still got another three days of vacation. We could go out with her then.”

  “Let’s ask her,” Michael suggests, pointing towards the glass. I stroll back into the suite and scan the living room. I catch the scent of foam bath, but there’s no sign of her. Her clothes are no longer on the floor. I rush into the bedrooms, hoping this is some kind of a joke. It isn’t… Stacy Dexter, the only woman I’ve ever connected with is gone. Anger and disappointment pour through me. I feel my heart breaking into a million pieces. It’s like an invisible man has shoved his hand into my chest and squeezed my heart with everything he’s got until it’s nothing but wrinkled skin.

  Staying silent, I return to the living room. Michael is biting his lower lip, staring at the door. Ray is puffing air out of his cheeks, his hands on his waist. I don’t have to tell them anything. They already know. I let off a cry of rage, kicking a stool across the room. Despair is running through my system, sending me down to a hell I’ve never been before. Remembering the confusion I saw on Stacy’s face when I told her that I’d never been in love, I just fold my arms on the counter and put my head on them. Now, I realize what it’s like to have lost what’s important to me. I can understand what a shattered heart really is. It’s beating in my chest, cold and alone, seeking the warmth of the one woman that’s ever moved it.

  31

  Stacy

  The three days that follow are nothing short of a living hell. I spend my time in my hotel room in Falasarna, unwilling to go anywhere or do anything. I can’t even work up the courage to head for the beach, because I know what my first thought will be: Ray’s beautiful face, making the suggestion that changed my life forever. Up until then, my three men were the best fun I had ever had. After I started seeing them for what they really are, they knocked down my defenses and captured my heart. My friends are doing everything in their power to comfort me. Emily keeps putting the idea of dating a random guy on the table, maintaining that focusing somewhere else will ease my pain. Karlie won’t stop pointing out the differences between Miami and Crete, saying that the place we chose for our vacation isn’t as pretty as our birthplace. No matter what they do though, I just can’t climb out of the abyss into which I’ve fallen. On the day of our departure, I wave “goodbye” to the island that’s given me thrills, powerful emotions, and memories that will last me a lifetime. My heart may be bleeding, agony may be gripping my soul, but those negative emotions can’t deter me from cherishing those magic moments.

  Ten days in Miami are enough to prove to my friends how wrong Emily was on the night of our kidnapping.

  “It’s obvious that staying here doesn’t do you any good.”

  Well, being surrounded by familiar faces, friends, and family isn’t much help, either. Everybody wants to learn the details about the three weeks we spent in Greece. And whenever they mention the name of that country, they send me on a trip down memory lane. I dismiss them with phrases like: “It was amazing. Sunshine, friendly locals and golden beaches are an incredible combination,” but I keep the rest to myself. I can’t mention anything about Michael, Ray, and Dean. I’m not afraid that my loved ones might think less of me; they know who I am. It’s just that telling them about some of the things they did for me will tear me apart. I don’t care whether they believe me or not. That’s not the point anyway. Narrating a single story is all it will take for me to break down in tears. How can I not cry, when I recall a man trying as hard as Michael did to offer me a night that was just out of this world? How can I hold back the tears, remembering the way Dean took care of me after I had collapsed in their suite?

  My friends won’t leave me in peace. I’m starting to regret the fact that I’ve given Emily a key to my apartment. Although I appreciate the fact that they’re trying to be supportive, having them over almost every night doesn’t leave me personal space or any time to myself. Of course neither Emily nor Karlie make the mista
ke of bringing up anything from our vacation. They are too smart for that. Despite that however, just hanging out with them reminds me of endless hours of basking in the sun, warm waters, delicious food and – unsurprisingly – my delicious men. We used to stay up at night, discussing my dates with them. More often than not, narrating my encounters with Michael, Ray, and Dean led to something that cracked me up. They were both in dire need of a cold shower, especially Emily.

  As usual, I find them – her and Karlie – in my kitchen, preparing dinner. Lasagna is on the menu on this humid, Thursday night.

  “Girls, this is starting to get old,” I complain, kicking the door shut behind me. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like hanging out with you, but I need some ‘me’ time, too.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Emily snaps her fingers and thumb together repeatedly, casting me an ironic glance. “I need a boyfriend too, but you don’t hear me complaining, do you? By the way, have you seen a mirror lately?”

  “Every morning,” my response is sharp. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you must have lost ten pounds since we got back,” she announces, her voice coming out almost monotonous, her arms crossed over her chest. “We’re really worried about you.”

  “Indeed,” Karlie adds, putting the lid on the pan. “You’ve obviously thinned down. Still, don’t worry,” she goes on, turning to face me. “A few meals like this one, and your curves will be back in no time.”

  “Who cares?” I sigh, dropping my gaze down to the floor. “They’re too far away to enjoy them.”

  “Well, we do,” Emily announces, clenching her jaw. “It’s not just about looks; it’s about health as well. And this isn’t healthy, honey. Let them go.”

  “I’m not having this conversation,” I state, spinning around in the other direction. “I’m going to take a shower. Find something else to talk about before I get back.”

  At last, somebody mentioned them. Not by name, but they did nonetheless. Still, I’m not sure if I want to discuss my issue. I’ve had a long, hard day at work, and I’m desperate to release that tension. But, as I stroll down the corridor, the deep-brown color of my floor is beginning to darken. My eyes are getting heavier, and I can feel my heart racing in my chest. All of a sudden, every ounce of strength is drained from my muscles. The world around me fades to black as I tumble down, banging my forehead against the hardwood floor.

  “Stacy!” Emily screams, running towards me. Karlie tosses a towel across the table and follows right behind her. “Red, grab her shoulder,” she urges, dropping to her knees beside me. “Three, two, one. Lift,” Flexing their arm muscles, they flip me over at the end of the countdown.

  I feel a series of light slaps on my cheek. “Wake up. Come on, baby. Wake up. Damn it, this is worse than I thought.”

  “What…” I whisper, my eyelids blinking open. “What happened?”

  “You freaking passed out!” Emily squeaks, her eyes wide with fear. “When was the last time you ate?” She asks, gently pulling me upright.

  “Lunch,” I mutter, cupping my forehead to ease my pain. “That’s not it. Guys…” I pull in a deep breath. “There’s something you need to know.”

  “What is it?” Emily wonders, tension quickening her voice.

  “I’m two weeks late,” The words that come out of my mouth hit Emily like a battering ram. Raising her hands, she grips her temples and squeezes her eyes shut as she tips her head back. My short sentence even takes a toll on the more composed Karlie. Her face relaxes in total disbelief, her hollow gaze staying on my face. “Can someone please say something?” I utter, my voice breaking more and more by the second.

  “It can’t be,” a breathless whisper flees Emily’s lips. “It just can’t be.”

  “You have to tell them,” Karlie advises, taking a short step towards me. “They have to know about this.”

  “Tell them what?” I swallow hard, thrusting my arms out to the side. “One of you is the father of my baby? That will break them apart.”

  “Karlie’s right,” Emily comments on an exhale. “You didn’t get yourself pregnant. And don’t give me that crap about what the news will do to their friendship. This is beyond their friendship, and you know it.”

  “I do,” I admit with a nod. “Okay. I’ll go find them.”

  “Good,” Emily smiles in appraisal. “Now, let’s go put some food in your stomach,” She and Karlie may be correct on the matter, but the truth is that their bond is not my only concern. Whatever effect it might have on their relationship, it’s the future that terrifies me. I have no idea if the father of my child wishes to be involved. Even if he does, living more than a thousand miles away from his kid will be very difficult for him. I’ve also met quite a few single mothers over the years, and their lives haven’t been easy. In essence, they have no personal life. All they do is keep trying to raise their babies, and this is exactly what frightens me the most.

  32

  Michael

  “Do it right, or start typing your resume!”

  I’ve lost count of all the times I’ve repeated this phrase over the past six weeks. That’s how long it’s been since our return from Greece. Still, to me, it feels like a whole year. Every single day has somehow gotten longer, more tedious, boring, and filled with all sorts of arguments at work. By the time I go home, I’m exhausted, cranky, and unwilling to speak much, if any. I’d be lying if I said “I don’t know the feeling,” because I do. This resembles a lot the period when I lost Pauline. Emptiness, hopelessness, and a gut-wrenching pain dominated my life back then. It was Stacy that made me believe in love again. It was her kind heart, her wild spirit and that knockout body that gave me that special feeling once more. Now that she’s gone, I’ve just abandoned all hope of finding someone new. I spend my nights alone, with my guitar in my arms, always strumming first the song I was playing when she and I met on that beach: Holiday. Within minutes, I plunge into the recent past. Memories take hold of me, throwing me back into the sweet world that she and I had created.

  Things with Ray aren’t much different. Mr. Laid Back has stopped living up to his name. Unlike before, it doesn’t take more than an innuendo or a hint of a bad comment to set him off. Its origin doesn’t really matter. Whether it is from me, Dean or a client of his, Ray is never far from snapping. And, although it doesn’t affect our relationship with him, it does affect his business. He’s built a great reputation over the years. To most of his clients, he’s a tremendous professional who would go out of his way to satisfy them. Yet, his attitude of late threatens to destroy the name he has built for himself. There’s no telling where that will lead, but one thing is certain: unless he finds his former self, Ray will soon be facing unemployment.

  On the other hand, Dean has come up with a unique way to cope with heartache. He takes out his frustration on the punching bag in his bedroom. Whenever he feels sorrow closing in, he locks himself in there and tortures that thing. At night, I hear his fists thumping against it and the old, familiar swivel doesn’t let up for at least an hour. He doesn’t even let the bag rebound. Instead, he continues to pound away, until his knuckles hurt or so I believe. Still, regardless of that, the once creative, promising chef is starting to become a thing of the past. Carlo, his boss has called me five times to complain about the kid’s absentmindedness. Dean has been burning chicken, pork, and messing up recipes he’s been working on for years. These are rookie mistakes, and yet, he doesn’t seem able to avoid them. Happily for him, his professional future isn’t at stake for now, because his contribution to making “Carlo’s” one of the best Italian restaurants in Manhattan has been invaluable. However, should he continue to screw up, he will leave no choice to his boss but to lay him off.

  The situation between me, Ray and Dean has been rather weird. None of us is in a talkative mood, and when we do have a chat, it’s not like what it used to be. Back in the day, there was a lot of teasing, some nasty comments about any girls we might have been dating at the time and
a light atmosphere in general. These days, we stick to minor stuff like what we’re having for lunch, dinner and any groceries we need. What’s even stranger is the fact that none of us – including me – dares to bring up Stacy. I don’t mention her out of respect for what they have been through with her. Perhaps they do it for the same reason. Maybe they’re afraid that talking about her will lead to an argument. I don’t know for sure, but those two appear to have locked away her memory and thrown away the key, as though she’s something sacred that has to be preserved.

  Fridays are special to me, because they signal the end of the business week. I don’t have to tolerate faulty servers, worn-out cables and power outages for two days, and this Friday is no exception. I love kicking back with a beer without having to worry about next day’s workload. I’m making a grocery list with the supplies we need for the weekend, whereas Ray has just come back from a business appointment and Ray is searching for a new pair of boots online. Suddenly, our doorbell interrupts me, which is rather odd, considering the fact that no one rang our apartment buzzer.

  “Ray, you didn’t leave the entry door open, did you?” I ask, strolling towards the door.

  “No, man,” he claims, peeling off his denim jacket. I grab the handle and swing the door open. Once I see who it is, I feel shockwaves shooting down my spine. Five feet, seven inches, blonde hair and sky-blue eyes that can leave a man wondering if they’re real or not: it’s Stacy, with a brown purse around her shoulder and a look of stone-cold seriousness.