Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  Thank God. “Me too,” I say, “You free Saturday night?”

  “You know it,” she says with a wink before rejoining her friends on the track. It was like she was marking her territory.

  Carrie looks embarrassed, but honestly she deserves it. I’m pretty sure she’s married. I give her a friendly wave goodbye and get the hell out of the training room.

  I spend the next hour cleaning up some equipment before heading to the stock room; Alex had asked me to get the room organized today. It’s enormous –rows and rows of merchandize, back up equipment, and unmarked boxes. In one corner there is a pile of beanbag chairs Alex apparently brings out every year for an annual movie night at the gym to celebrate the gyms anniversary. I roll my eyes; women’s gyms are really different from what I’m used to. I get started pulling boxes from one shelf when suddenly I feel my ass getting pinched. I swear if I turn around and it’s Carrie, I’m punching her. I spin around, and I am thankful to see Laurel. She’s finished her run.

  “Hey,” I say with a smile.

  “So what’s going on with you and the soccer mom?” she asks.

  I grin. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous, Laurel?”

  She pierces her lips and rolls her eyes, “Of course not.”

  “Well, so you know, nothing’s going on except for a little one-sided flirting,” I say, “trust me, Carrie is not my type.”

  “Why not?” Laurel asks.

  “Well, she’s married, for one,” I say, “And she’s not you.”

  Laurel laughs. “Oh, that’s cute –you must think that cheesy line is going to work on me.”

  I step forward and bring our lips close together, “I was hoping it would.”

  She leans in the rest of the way and wraps her arms around my neck; her tongue traces the roof of my mouth for a moment, and the forwardness of it takes me by surprise for a moment. She runs her hands from my neck down to my chest and then pushes me back into the rack I had been organizing. I sort of like this version of Laurel; she slips her fingers into the front of my gym shorts and gives them a slight tug as she gently bites my bottom lip. I feel a bit light headed, and I let out a winded exhale as though her touch had pulled all of the air out of my lungs.

  “Are you all right?” she asks, her lips tracing my collar bone while one hand pulls back my shirt collar to reveal a bit more skin for her to work with.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, shaking my head slightly to snap myself back to Earth.

  Laurel grabs me by my shirt and pulls me away from the rack and towards the beanbag chairs in the corner. She pushes me back, and I fall onto one of the larger beanbags. She removes her tennis shoes and sports bra and drops her shorts and underwear before bending down to yank my gym shorts, underwear, and shoes off. I throw my t-shirt off just as she is sitting herself down on top of my erection. I reach out to touch her breasts, but she grabs both my wrists and pins them above my head before leaning down to lock our lips together. My legs tense up as she slides her hips up and down on me; I groan, but she muffles the sound with her mouth and tongue. Slowly, she runs her hands down my arms until she is touching my chest, freeing my hands from her tight grasp.

  A shaky, pleasurable cry erupts from Laurel’s throat; I press my pelvis upward, lifting her up off the beanbag for a moment. “Oh God!” she cries when I do this, and the two of us fall back down. She repeats the cry four more times as I repeat the motion, and she finally lets out this loud scream; my hand goes up and covers her mouth.

  “Easy,” I say, “Alex will kill me if she catches us in here.”

  She is having a serious orgasm, so she ignores me my plea to stay quiet. She falls on top of me, gasping slightly just as I am having my own sexual high and cum into her. We kiss for a few minutes, blatant smiles plastered on both of our faces. Before anyone can catch us, we get dressed, and Laurel returns to her combatants in the gym.

  49

  I guess I am a little sexist. Never in a million years would I have ever expected this sort of crowd at a women’s sporting event –a crowd of both men and women all excitedly gathered around the cage chanting and shouting. This is just as crazy as one of my boxing matches would have been. “So,” I say, turning to Tyler, “have you ever been to one of these MMA things?”

  “No, man, this is new for me,” Tyler retorts.

  Bobby is sitting on the other side of Tyler. “Same here,” he shouts over the crowd.

  “Move your ass!” I hear Marty screaming as he makes his way through the rows of seats towards us, his hands full of popcorn and drinks. He tosses me and Bobby our sodas and hands Tyler a beer before passing out the popcorn. “That line was fucking ridiculous.” He sits a bucket of beer down as he sits next to Bobby.

  “Really, guys?” Bobby grumbles when Marty puts the bucket right in front of him.

  “Look, if Jonathan is going to drag us to a chick’s sporting thing, I’m drinking,” Marty says smugly.

  Tyler laughs, “This might actually be fun, Marty.”

  “I’m sure it will be if I am drinking,” he says.

  I shake my head. Laurel had invited me to this match; supposedly it’s supposed to be a good one. I told her I’d bring some friends, so here we are. “Laurel’s up first tonight, right?” Marty asks.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “I can’t believe you’re banging the chick that almost got you fired,” Marty laughs.

  “Please,” Tyler says, “You don’t know the half of it. She’s also the one who tossed him out on the street the night he got busted for trying to hire a hooker.”

  “What the fuck, man?” Bobby laughs.

  “Shut up, Tyler,” I say just as Laurel is coming out into the cage.

  Her opponent is huge, and it makes me cringe. “There’s no way that bitch is in Laurel’s weight group,” Marty snarls.

  “Laurel’s at the bottom of her weight group,” I say.

  “That other chick looks like she could eat your girlfriend, man,” Bobby says.

  The first round starts, and immediately I feel myself cringe. Boxing is brutal, but this shit is crazy. The woman gets Laurel up against the net and goes to town on her stomach; one punch is so harsh it causes Laurel to fall forward, and I see Marty, Tyler, and Bobby all jump in their seats. “Shit, man,” Tyler says under his breath.

  Laurel throws the woman off of her and lunges like a damn bobcat. They wind up on the ground for a minute, and I catch myself standing up in order to keep a close eye on the match. The first round ends, and Laurel is covered in blood, and I don’t know if it’s hers or Big Foots. Round two starts, and Laurel has Big Foot on her toes; she’s kicking her ass, and I catch myself cheering along with the guys.

  Then the bitch punches Laurel in the back of the head –hard –sending her down to the ground. The whole crowd starts booing, and the ref makes her back up. Laurel gets back on her feet and shakes it off before continuing. “That was illegal, right?” Tyler asks, and I nod.

  Third round; since it’s not a title match, this is the last. Thank God. I don’t know if I can watch this much longer. They wind up on the ground, but Laurel is on top. The guys and I cheer, along with a large portion of the crowd. Big Foot wraps herself around Laurel, and then I watch as Laurel stands with the woman hanging off of her. Laurel slams her down, and the woman lets go.

  “Shit!” Bobby shrieks.

  The woman jumps up, and the two continue swinging and punching like lunatics. Finally, Laurel gets a serious uppercut in, and she knocks the bitch out cold. The crowd loses their minds, and I sink down in my seat with my eyes wide. Laurel is covered in blood from her face down to her stomach. Is this how Brandi would always feel during my matches?

  Once the match is over and Laurel is declared victorious, Laurel disappears to the locker room. I wait outside the locker room; the guys are still in their seats watching the other matches. I wait for what feels like an eternity before she comes trotting out, cleaned up and wearing a fresh uniform that wasn’t drenched in sweat. She�
��s got a bandage taped to her chin, and her face is already bruising up. I cringe. She smiles at me through a slightly swollen lip. “What did you think?” she asks.

  I blush. I don’t know what to say. I hated it! I hated watching it; it made me sick to my stomach. “Are you okay?” I ask.

  She laughs at me. “I’m fine,” she says, “I’d be better if that cunt didn’t sock me in the back of the head, though.” She rubs the back of her head for a second; she has this happy smile on her face –clearly having just enjoyed herself, and she has no idea how torn up I am about it. She looks at me for a moment. “Jonathan, are you okay?”

  I shake it off. “Sorry, I guess the whole thing just surprised me is all. I was worried about you.”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet?” she says and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m fine, Jonathan. I do this sort of thing all the time. You of all people should get that.”

  “I know,” I say and put my arms around her waist.

  We stay and watch the other matches; the guy’s head out on their own, and I go with Laurel back to her apartment once the night is over. I watch her in her kitchen as she puts on bandages. When she’s done she comes and sits by me on the couch. “You’re not going to be weird now, are you?” she asks. “Should I have not invited you?”

  “Maybe not,” I say with a slight laugh. “Honestly, Laurel, I like you. I do. And so that really freaked me out tonight. It’s selfish, I know, but I really don’t want you to do that again. But I’d never ask you not to, you know? In fact, you can expect me at your matches again because I know you love it just like I love boxing, but hell, I guess I just never felt it from this perspective before.”

  She laughs and kisses my head. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming with me or going back to Tyler’s?”

  I smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. I got to take care of something real quick.”

  She nods and heads back to the bedroom. I take out my phone, and I call Brandi. As expected, I get her voicemail. “Hey, Brandi,” I say softly, “I get that you don’t want to talk to me still, but I just had something I wanted to tell you. Something happened tonight, and I just want to say I understand now. I understand why you didn’t want me to box, and I’m sorry. I’m not saying I’m sorry that I didn’t stop boxing when you wanted me to because that’s not it. I’m just sorry that I never… I guess that I never acted like I cared that you were worried about me. I get it now. You love me, or at least, you did then, and I worried you. I just always expected you to just smile and cheer me on and pretend it didn’t bother you, and that was wrong. I understand now, Brandi, and I’m so sorry.” I hang up the phone, and I go back to Laurel’s bedroom.

  I spend the night curled up next to Laurel, kissing her bruises and telling her how amazing she is. I don’t know if I ever felt this way with Brandi. Maybe I did once, but I was such a different person then.

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  50

  I wake up in a groggy haze; Laurel is passed out beside me, her pretty face covered in purple bruises after her match. My phone is ringing, and when I got to answer it I see Brandi’s name. I freeze. I leap out of bed, darting out of the bedroom before answering the phone. I’m down to my underwear, but I didn’t have time to get dressed before running out into her living room. “Hello?” I answer the phone softly; I certainly don’t want to wake up Laurel while I’m talking to my ex-wife on the phone.

  “Hey,” I hear Brandi’s voice speaking in the same soft tone that I am.

  “Brandi,” I say, and I’m sure she can hear the desperation in my tone. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “I told you to stop calling me…” she says, “But, thank you for that message…”

  “Oh,” I say, feeling somewhat embarrassed, “You got that, did you?”

  “You weren’t drunk when you left it, were you?” she asks.

  “No, Brandi!” I say quickly, “Of course not. I’m getting sober, I swear.”

  “Okay, geeze, calm down,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you that I got your message. It was… sweet.”

  I smile, “I’m glad you think that. Look, I know you said you’re seeing someone else, and I get that. I’m okay with that, I guess. I just wish you’d talk to me. I’d like to see you, if that’s-”

  “Um… not now. I’m really busy right now,” she says, sounding flushed. She is probably round as a pumpkin right now, and it’s obvious she doesn’t want me finding out about the baby.

  “Later, maybe?” I ask.

  There is a long pause. “Maybe,” she says, “But I really am seeing someone else, Jonathan. I don’t want to… I don’t want to make you think… I don’t know. I’m not interested in you anymore, Jonathan. I’m not, and I’m sorry.”

  “Okay,” I say, “that’s fine. I just hate the way we left things. I want you to see that I’m better. That I’m different. I’m not the same person anymore. I have a job. I’m in AA, and I haven’t had a thing to drink since we last spoke. I’m doing better, Brandi. I want you to know that. And I spoke with a manager the other day. It’s nothing official, but maybe I can get back into boxing. I don’t know. We’ll see, I guess. I just... I just don’t want you thinking that I’m some joke. Because I do care what you think, Brandi.”

  She is quiet again. Distantly, in the background, I hear a man’s voice, “-who are you talking to, baby-” and it is like someone just jabbed me right in my stomach.

  “Jonathan,” she says to me, “I have to go.”

  “Okay,” I say, “Think about what I said. I really would like to see you, Brandi.”

  “Goodbye, Jonathan,” she says, but she doesn’t sound angry. Just sad.

  I hang up the phone and run my fingers through my hair. From the corner of my eye, I see Laurel standing in the doorway of her bedroom, staring at me. Shit. She’s wearing my t-shirt, and she looks so beautiful even with that bruised face of hers. “Was that your ex-wife?” she asks, and I can tell instantly that she’s annoyed with me.

  I sit upright. I’m not going to lie to her. “Yeah,” I say, “she called me.”

  She looks really pissed, but she doesn’t say it. “Am I getting in the middle of anything I shouldn’t be, Jonathan?” she asks.

  I scoot over and pat the seat on the couch next to me. She rolls her eyes and comes and plops down beside me. “Brandi hates me,” I say, “and to be honest with you, it hurts still. I cared about her, and I still do, but there’s nothing there that can be saved. Not anymore. She’s with someone else, and so am I.”

  She gives me this sad smile. “So what, I’m like, your girlfriend now?”

  I laugh, “That sounds pretty damn good to me.” My laugh fades. “I guess there’s something I should tell you, and I hope it doesn’t scare you off because I actually like you.” She crosses her arms, and she looks a little nervous as I take on this more serious tone. “Brandi doesn’t know that I know, but she’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father, and she’s keeping it a secret from me. I understand, Laurel, if that’s just too much baggage-”

  “That fucking bitch!” she shrieks before I have a chance to finish my carefully rehearsed words; I figured I would have to tell Laurel about this eventually. Laurel sits upright. “She can’t do that to you! That’s your kid too. Why do women think that they can do shit like that?”

  “I thought you’d be mad at me,” I say, “not Brandi.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s just stupid of you to think that. Who the hell does she think she is?” Laurel hisses. “Oh, this is just total bullshit,” she stands up and starts pacing. “You’re going to be a father –you should have every right to that kid as she does. Have you talked to a lawyer yet? Shit, that’s right, you’re talking to Bobby. Does he do custody cases? Do you think he could help? I bet with you being in AA that could help some, and you’ve had a steady job for a while too-”

  “Laurel, chill,” I say, “I’m working on it. Honestly, I’m hoping it can be more civil
than a long-winded custody battle. Right now I’m just working on showing Brandi that I’m not a drunken asshole… anymore.” Then a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me.” I pull out my phone and show her the ultrasound picture, and she smiles as she sits back down beside me.

  “Look at that baby’s little fists!” she laughs, “Like a little boxer!”

  I smile. “Yeah,” I say, “I just wish I could be a part of everything. Right now, I’m just trying to get her to tell me.”

  “Listen, Jonathan,” Laurel says and takes my face into her hands, “I’m so sorry about all of this. She’s not being fair to you. And a baby? That’s not baggage. I’m happy for you, and I want you to know that-” My phone starts ringing again. Laurel frowns, “If that’s Brandi, I’m slapping the shit out of you.”

  I check my phone. “I don’t know this number.”

  “Answer it,” she says with the wave of her hand.

  I do, and I wish that I didn’t. “Mr. Trial, this is Officer Carpenter. We spoke a few months ago?”

  My mind goes back to the night of Gabe’s murder, and I shiver. Officer Carpenter had been one of the officers who had pulled me out of the car; he was part of the murder investigation. “Yes, sir,” I say, “I remember.”

  “We already spoke with Gabriel’s parents, and they felt you should be kept informed on the case,” he begins.

  I sit upright, and I can see Laurel staring at me with a concerned expression. “Is there an update?” I ask.

  “We found the guy’s car,” he said, “the guy abandoned the car and took it’s plates… he also scratched off the vin number, so it’s not much of a lead at all, but it’s a start.”

  My voice shakes, “Is that all?”

  “As of right now, yes sir. Do you wish to continue to be updated?” he asks.

  “Yes, yes, please,” I say, “and if there’s anything I can do, please, let me know.”

  “Will do, Mr. Trial,” he says before hanging up the phone.