Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  “Hey,” I say with a smile, “They’re delaying your surgery until tomorrow.” I sit back down, and he completely ignores what I just said. He’s really out of it –even more so than usual.

  “That Sylvia is really fine.” He says, and it is so out of character that I can’t help but to laugh. His eyes are squinted like he’s fighting to stay awake.

  “Thanks, man.” I say, laughing.

  “But that Éclair is really fine too.” He says, “Why the fuck are you able to pull that sort of shit off when I can’t even keep a girl from cheating?”

  I frown, knowing he is referring to his fiancé I had slept with. “Eddie, I’m really sorry.”

  He waves his hand. “She was a skank.” He laughs. “Women love that pretty face of yours. You’re lucky. You have choices. Just don’t make the wrong one.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I mean Sylvia. She’s sweet, but she’s not for you. Éclair loves you.”

  I laugh at the thought. Éclair is a good friend, but I could not even imagine what the words I love you would even sound like coming from her lips. “Geeze, man, what sort of drugs are you on?” I ask.

  “You should date Éclair.” He says, “Fuck it, you should put a ring on that bitch.”

  I laugh again. “Easy there, tiger. I think I’m going to tell the doctor to cool it with your pain meds. You’re slurring your words. You do know that you hate Éclair, right?”

  “No, man, I’m serious.” Eddie waves his broken arm up and points a finger in my face, “I don’t like her, but you and her just make sense. Sylvia is sweet, but that’s all she is.”

  I feel the need to argue. “Hey, don’t say that. Sylvia is smart and fun and athletic. I really like her.”

  “Then why do you keep going back to Éclair?” he asks.

  “And how do you know I’ve been doing that? You’ve been in a damn coma.”

  He shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t. I do now, though.”

  Well damn. I just shake my head. “Go to sleep Eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

  He’s already out cold. I write off his little insight, blaming it on the drugs before going outside to meet Sylvia. She’s standing out front, leaned against her car with this big smile on her face. I go to meet her, and she gives me a rather seductive kiss. I grin, realizing she had wanted to drive me back home for a reason. We climb into her car and head towards my apartment. We talk about Eddie. She had only had a few minutes to talk to him, but she laughs and tells me he seemed like a nice guy. “He is,” I say reassuringly, “And wait until you see how nice he is when he’s not high as shit on pain meds.”

  She laughs. “I bet his stories aren’t as fun.”

  Yeah, I’m not going to live this one down. Damn it, Eddie, why did he have to go tell my dream girl I jacked off to her picture before meeting her?

  Once we reach my apartment complex, we hurry into the private elevator that leads up to my room. We’re already stripping in the elevator, and we chase one another through the apartment and dart into my bedroom. There is a level of excitement in her I have not ever seen before. Like –really! She is wet before I even touch her. I wonder if learning that I had been so turned on by her that I would jack off to a picture of her is doing it for her? Maybe it was exciting to find out? Maybe I should thank Eddie because holy fucking hell!

  She yanks off my underwear and pins me down on my back, her tongue tracing my abs and working its way down until she is cupping her mouth around my cock. I reach up and grab the headboard –hardly able to contain myself. She has got my toes curled and my knees bent. She releases my cock from her mouth and crawls up me; my hands are still squeezing the bars on my headboard because I’ve become so stiff from gripping them so hard during oral. She sits herself down on my dick, sliding her hips up and down in a swift motion as she runs her fingers all over me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on. She pry’s my fingers off the head board and places my palms right on her breasts as she continues bouncing up and down on my erection.

  “So tell me, James,” she says, panting, “What’s it like to have the real thing?”

  I don’t have time to answer her before I’m ejaculating in the midst of an excited cry. I don’t think a woman has ever gotten me to call out in bed like that before. She falls on me in the midst of me cumming, pressing her chest against mine and pressing her lips against my mouth, suffocating my breathing ever so slightly. We lay down beside one another, and I am still shaking from the explosion of unexpected levels of pleasure I had just experienced.

  61

  I feel like a love-sick puppy dog. Sylvia is sitting back with pillows stuffed behind her head looking at me like she thinks I’m an idiot while I curl up around her kissing her neck –my arms wrapped around her waist as I slowly sink further down until I can rest my head on her breasts. After sex for me has previously consisted of one of three options: go to sleep, go fix a snack, or sneak out before the woman wakes up. Right now I just want to hold her and kiss her and tell her how beautiful and amazing she is. It was, bar far, the most amazing sex I’ve ever had. I hear my phone go off, but I can’t bring myself to detach from Sylvia’s side.

  She laughs and pushes my face away. “Answer your phone, James, I’m not going anywhere.”

  I laugh –at myself mostly. I’ve never been so infatuated with someone before. I locate my phone on the floor where my pants had dropped, and I answer it on the third ring as I am crawling back into bed with Sylvia. “Hello?”

  “Mr. James Mont?” the voice on the other line is eerily soft spoken, but I don’t pick up on it right away.

  “Yeah.” I say as I reach out and stroke Sylvia’s inner thigh. She giggles and tells me to knock it off while I’m on the phone.

  “Mr. Mont, this is Dr. Lauders from the hospital.” He says, and I suddenly pick up on the uncomfortable tone. I remove my hand from Sylvia’s thigh and sit upright. I feel this pain in my chest that I can’t quite explain. Dr. Lauders has pretty much been Eddie’s primary physician ever since the assault, so I have gotten to know the man fairly well.

  “Yes, um, hello?” my voice is scratchy.

  “Mr. Mont,” the doctor’s voice becomes steadier. “I’m very sorry to be the one to inform you, but your brother-”

  My voice cracks. I read it in his tone before the words even come out of his mouth. “What happened?” I snap, trying to hold myself together.

  “He had a seizure,” the doctor says, “The seizure caused your brother to go into cardiac arrest.”

  “What happened?” I say again –forcing the unwilling man to say the words I am already suspecting while at the same time praying that those words will not come out of his mouth. Praying that I am just assuming the worst.

  “I’m so sorry.” He says, “But your brother is dead.”

  62

  It’s an uncomfortably nice day outside. I would almost prefer rain. At least rain would be more fitting with what I am feeling right now. It’s warm, and the sun is peeking out through the clouds against a bright blue sky. It’s almost sickening. It’s like the weather is just taunting me –proving to me that the world is just going to keep turning and that everything is just going to keep moving on –that there will still be sunny days after today. Today we’re putting my brother, Eddie, in the ground. The funeral home is busy with people. I had to hire security to keep the damn press away.

  Sylvia has been by my side all day. I keep noticing that she is checking her phone, so I know she has somewhere she is supposed to be. Her boss sounds like an asshole with the way she is always being called away even in moments like these. Normally I would say something like, “go on and go. It’s not a big deal. I understand,” but today I just need her. I need someone to stand by me.

  Right now we are standing out in front of the funeral home. I needed some air. I had not realized how well loved Eddie had been by the local community. People are everywhere; the line to see Eddie and to see me to express condol
ences is out the door. As I’m standing on the stairs along the side of the building, the set of stairs where an enormous line is not at, I gaze out across the parking lot. There is a nice, gated fence around the property, and I can see news cameras trying to snap pictures of the unexpected crowd. They spot me, and soon they’re all pointed in my direction. My stomach churns, and I hold my hand up to keep them from snapping pictures of my red, puffy eyes. I grab sunglasses out of my pocket and throw them on. That’s the last thing I feel like dealing with –seeing pictures of my splotchy face all over the local news for the next week.

  Sylvia hooks her arm with mine, “Come on,” she says and leads me back inside through a back door. I can vaguely hear her snapping off at one of my security guys to go and disperse the jackasses at the fence and to find out if any of them had managed to get a picture of me. “I’ll pay you fifty bucks to smash a camera,” I hear her hiss.

  “James!” I hear a familiar voice call out as we are entering into the back of the building.

  Kate, Eddie’s half-sister, has snuck away from the growing crowd. Her eyes are just as red as mine. I sensed something in her voice that snaps me out of my daze so that I can ask, “Is something wrong?” Of course something is wrong. What I mean is something more than our brother suddenly dying wrong.

  She wipes her tears with some tissue, a line of her children following close behind her in their black attire that makes some of the younger ones look like creepy porcelain dolls. “Bobby’s locked himself in the bathroom,” she says, “I’m so sorry to ask you this, but do you think you can try to coax him out?”

  It’s not like I have much of a choice. I’m not going to tell the woman no. Sylvia stays behind to chat with Kate while I head back to the bathrooms to locate Bobby. There are three pissed off looking men in suits wanting to get to the bathroom. I tell them to leave so that I can talk to Bobby privately. They grumble and head back to the main room. The bathrooms are on this private hall towards the back of the building. I knock on the door. “Go away,” Bobby says in this low voice.

  “Bobby, it’s James,” I say, but he does not respond to me. He’s quiet. “Listen, kid,” I say, “today’s going to be over soon enough. I know it’s rough. It’s rough on me too, but you can’t just hideout in the bathroom the whole time. You’re freaking your mom out.” He is still quiet. I wait before I speak again. “I know you loved Eddie. I do too. And it’s hard to think that he’s gone, but-”

  The door opens slowly. He stands halfway behind the door, and I can tell that he has been washing his face in the sink –trying to hide the fact that he had gotten choked up. I get it. He’s embarrassed that he can’t hack it; he is just a punk kid. I take off my sunglasses, showing off my red eyes, and I hand them to him. “Here, use these,” I say.

  He takes the sunglasses, and once he has them on he’s willing to step out. He does not say anything; he just puts his hands in his pockets and walks with me back to his mom. Sylvia has this look on her face that is giving off a wave of anxiety. She has to leave. I know she does, but I just can’t bring myself to grant her that permission. I hear her phone vibrate again. She gives me this look, hoping that I will say something. No, I think to myself, if you have to go, you’re going to have to say it. I know she feels crazy guilty and needs me to tell her it’s okay, but I just can’t. “James,” she says finally before we head back to the viewing room, “I have to go.”

  I’m angry and hurt, but it sounds like her boss is not giving her much of a choice. I can’t wait to meet this guy she works for –I’ll punch the asshole in his jaw. I tell her it’s okay and that I understand, but we both know I’m lying through my teeth to her. She kisses my cheek and leaves. I go with Kate back to the viewing room to stand by the casket along with some of Eddie’s other half-siblings. I had told Kate to let her siblings know that they were welcome to come stand with me at the funeral, and I am weirded out by the number of people who had shown up. Max is here, the brother with the crazy stutter. So is Tommy and his crazy egg scrambling psychopath wife. It’s kind of weird seeing Tommy in a suit. There is also handful of complete strangers claiming to be Eddie’s half-siblings and their children that I have not bothered introducing myself to. I do my best to not look at the casket as I stand by Kate and her kids. “I spoke to Nick on the phone this morning,” she says, referring to the youngest of Eddie’s other half-siblings. “He is devastated that he couldn’t be here, but I told him to stay in rehab.”

  “Good,” I say, “He needs to.” I have not really thought much about Nick. I guess I had just been betting on Eddie getting better. Eddie was supposed to become Nick’s legal guardian; I had offered to take him in once he got out of rehab until Eddie could get back up on his feet, but that may become a more permanent arrangement now. I would do it in a heartbeat though –for Eddie.

  I glance over at the casket –at this hallow shell that had once been my big brother, Eddie. It makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t handle it, and there are hundreds of more people in line waiting to see Eddie before we head to the cemetery. A part of me is almost angry at Sylvia for leaving me, but I know I shouldn’t be. It’s not her fault her boss is threatening to fire her. “James!” I hear my name, and I look up to see Éclair. She has a few tears in her eyes, and suddenly she is standing right in front of me wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’m so sorry, James. I’m so sorry,” she says. She touches my face and then kisses my cheek. She starts to head back down the line to go and wait before this large group of people has to commute to the cemetery, but I grab her wrist.

  “Stay with me,” I say, and she does. She holds onto my arm. She also rides with me to the cemetery. Éclair continues to stand by my side as we put Eddie into the ground. She also stands with me as the crowd slowly departs. The next thing I know, Éclair and I are the only ones still standing around Eddie’s grave, the bright and cheery sky slowly turning into bright oranges and yellows and pinks to indicate the late evening.

  63

  It’s an uncomfortably nice day outside. I would almost prefer rain. At least rain would be more fitting with what I am feeling right now. It’s warm, and the sun is peeking out through the clouds against a bright blue sky. It’s almost sickening. It’s like the weather is just taunting me –proving to me that the world is just going to keep turning and that everything is just going to keep moving on –that there will still be sunny days after today. Today we’re putting my brother, Eddie, in the ground. The funeral home is busy with people. I had to hire security to keep the damn press away.

  Sylvia has been by my side all day. I keep noticing that she is checking her phone, so I know she has somewhere she is supposed to be. Her boss sounds like an asshole with the way she is always being called away even in moments like these. Normally I would say something like, “go on and go. It’s not a big deal. I understand,” but today I just need her. I need someone to stand by me.

  Right now we are standing out in front of the funeral home. I needed some air. I had not realized how well loved Eddie had been by the local community. People are everywhere; the line to see Eddie and to see me to express condolences is out the door. As I’m standing on the stairs along the side of the building, the set of stairs where an enormous line is not at, I gaze out across the parking lot. There is a nice, gated fence around the property, and I can see news cameras trying to snap pictures of the unexpected crowd. They spot me, and soon they’re all pointed in my direction. My stomach churns, and I hold my hand up to keep them from snapping pictures of my red, puffy eyes. I grab sunglasses out of my pocket and throw them on. That’s the last thing I feel like dealing with –seeing pictures of my splotchy face all over the local news for the next week.

  Sylvia hooks her arm with mine, “Come on,” she says and leads me back inside through a back door. I can vaguely hear her snapping off at one of my security guys to go and disperse the jackasses at the fence and to find out if any of them had managed to get a picture of me. “I’ll pay you fifty bucks to smash a came
ra,” I hear her hiss.

  “James!” I hear a familiar voice call out as we are entering into the back of the building.

  Kate, Eddie’s half-sister, has snuck away from the growing crowd. Her eyes are just as red as mine. I sensed something in her voice that snaps me out of my daze so that I can ask, “Is something wrong?” Of course something is wrong. What I mean is something more than our brother suddenly dying wrong.

  She wipes her tears with some tissue, a line of her children following close behind her in their black attire that makes some of the younger ones look like creepy porcelain dolls. “Bobby’s locked himself in the bathroom,” she says, “I’m so sorry to ask you this, but do you think you can try to coax him out?”

  It’s not like I have much of a choice. I’m not going to tell the woman no. Sylvia stays behind to chat with Kate while I head back to the bathrooms to locate Bobby. There are three pissed off looking men in suits wanting to get to the bathroom. I tell them to leave so that I can talk to Bobby privately. They grumble and head back to the main room. The bathrooms are on this private hall towards the back of the building. I knock on the door. “Go away,” Bobby says in this low voice.

  “Bobby, it’s James,” I say, but he does not respond to me. He’s quiet. “Listen, kid,” I say, “today’s going to be over soon enough. I know it’s rough. It’s rough on me too, but you can’t just hideout in the bathroom the whole time. You’re freaking your mom out.” He is still quiet. I wait before I speak again. “I know you loved Eddie. I do too. And it’s hard to think that he’s gone, but-”

  The door opens slowly. He stands halfway behind the door, and I can tell that he has been washing his face in the sink –trying to hide the fact that he had gotten choked up. I get it. He’s embarrassed that he can’t hack it; he is just a punk kid. I take off my sunglasses, showing off my red eyes, and I hand them to him. “Here, use these,” I say.