Trouble

by Tia Louise

  “First, my lady.” Placing my hands on her thighs, I spread them apart, leaning down to drag my tongue slowly over her clit.

  “Spencer,” she gasps, her fingers shooting into the sides of my hair. “Oh, God…”

  Her hips are quick to follow my tongue, and her fingers curl at my ears, growing more frantic as my tongue moves quicker.

  “Oh, yes…” She hiccups, and I slide my palms along the insides of her thighs.

  Her body spasms, and I can feel when the orgasm starts to rise. I feel her muscles flexing and trembling, I see her ass bucking. Her moans turn to little gasps, and I smile, moving my mouth away just before she climaxes.

  “Oh, no…” She moans a complaint, but her fingers crawl along my sides, pulling me down to her body as I line up my dick and drive all the way into her clenching core.

  For a moment, I can’t move. It feels too good. It’s like finding heaven. My forehead drops against her neck, and I inhale deeply, flowers mixed with sweat and sex. She truly is sinful.

  “You feel so good.”

  Her ass bucks, and she whines, struggling to make me fuck her.

  I don’t make her wait.

  I start to move, knowing I’m so close to the edge, I won’t last long.

  My eyes close, and I’m somewhere I’ve never been. I’m having sex with a woman, and I don’t have her pinned to the wall, stomach first. I’m not pulling her hair, keeping her face turned away from mine so I don’t see her.

  Lifting my shoulders, I look down at her. A line pierces her brow, and her eyes are squinted. She’s grinding hard, pulling my dick as much as I’m pushing. Her hands grip my ass, and her back arches.

  Gorgeous tits rise to meet me, and I pull one into my mouth. I suck on her nipple, teasing the hardened peak with my teeth. She moans, moving faster. I wrap my arms around her back and move to my knees, drawing her onto my lap without ever losing contact.

  Her arms are on my shoulders now, and she smiles down at me as her hair spills around us like fire, like the sparks from that blowtorch, like the chemistry we’ve always shared.

  “Mm… I like this.” She’s riding me now, sliding forward on my cock.

  A dimple is in her cheek, and I lean up to kiss it. The movement sends me deeper into her tight, clenching heat, and I can’t hold back anymore.

  “I’m coming, Sin.” My chin drops and my hands grip her ass.

  I’m moving her now, slamming her harder as the orgasm takes hold of my brain, as sensation rushes through my bloodstream, centering in my pelvis, driving into my cock, pulsing with so much force, I forget where I am.

  “God, yes,” I cough, dropping my head forward as my soul spills into hers.

  This is more than scratching an itch or satisfying a primal urge. I don’t remember anyone but her. It’s only her. Has there ever been anyone else?

  Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and I feel her clenching as she finishes. I hear her fluttered breaths, and I know she’s with me in this place, melting with me.

  Sliding to the side, I dispose of the condom before returning to pull her into my arms. I’m weary to my core from this night.

  Our fingers thread, and I’m not ready to say all the things in my mind. I’m not ready to look at what I’ve done and decide what it means.

  I only want to hold her and sleep.

  * * *

  A shaft of light streams in from the crack in my heavy, gray velvet curtains. I’m lying on my side in my massive bed, and last night comes back in a rush.

  I turn, sliding my hand across the mattress, over cool sheets…

  I’m reaching, searching. My throat tightens until…

  My fingers encounter her soft skin.

  Rolling over, I blink a few times at the woman beside me in this bed. Confusing warmth floods my chest, and a smile lifts my lips.

  She’s fucking adorable. Her hand is tucked under her cheek, and a wavy lock of dark red hair falls over her eye. She’s asleep in my bed. She didn’t sneak out again.

  Her skin is flawlessly white. Lifting my hand, I trace my finger along the top of her shoulder, and it rises slightly at my touch. Her blue eyes blink open, and when they meet mine, she smiles.

  I feel the smile still on my lips, and I push into a sitting position. “How did you sleep?”

  She pushes into a sitting position as well, that fiery hair dropping around her shoulders. A curl loops under her nipple, and my cock is ready to go.

  “Your bed is very comfortable.” She props an elbow on the top of the pillows and traces her finger down my chin. “How do you shave in there?”

  I capture her slim hand in mine, holding it to my lips for a kiss. “Very carefully.”

  She scoots closer, cupping my face in her hand and pressing her forehead to my cheek. I wrap my arm around her, turning us so I’m looking down into her face.

  Her eyes hold mine, and I trace a finger along her brow, down her cheek. I’ve handled priceless heirlooms, one-of-a-kind artifacts, last pieces of million-dollar collections…

  “Joselyn…” My voice is gentle, but I don’t know what comes next.

  These are uncharted waters, and I don’t make deals I can’t predict. How do I say what I’ve never said?

  “Spencer…” Her voice lowers, and she’s teasing, mocking my serious tone.

  Our eyes meet, and she blinks impishly. Her full lips press together like she’s suppressing a laugh. I drop my chin, exhaling a groan, and I’m ready to flip her over and spank her creamy, round ass.

  Then bite it.

  But first, I cover her lips with mine. My hand travels higher, cupping her breast. I’m gearing up for another round when a sharp voice rings through the house like a fucking police siren.

  “Mom! Mom! Aunt Sly’s missing!” Ollie’s feet thud loudly up the hall then pause, almost like he remembers. “Mr. Spencer! Mr. Spencer…”

  At the first pounding of his seven-year-old feet on the stairs, we’re out of the bed, scrambling for clothes.

  “Holy shit!” Joselyn’s eyes are wide, and she has those flannel PJ pants on before I’ve even located my Jockeys.

  A door flies open below, and Courtney stops his upward progress. “Ollie, stop! Don’t go up there. Tell me what’s happening!”

  “Aunt Sly hasn’t been in her bed. Get Mr. Spencer. Get Superhero Tom!”

  “Calm down, and let’s see what’s happening.”

  They descend the stairs, and a fully clothed Joselyn skips across the room to plant a kiss on my mouth. “I’ll take care of this.”

  I catch her before she skips away, pulling her to me. Her chin lifts, and light twinkles in her blue eyes. She’s happier than I’ve seen her in a month, and dread pricks my chest.

  Cupping her face with my hand, I slide my thumb over her full bottom lip. She’s so beautiful. Leaning down, I kiss her. I inhale her soft hair, and I hold her forehead to my cheek. Her hands clutch my arms, and I have to let her go.

  I hold a little longer, finding it difficult to take my hands away.

  But I do.

  My lips are warm from her kiss, and I turn to my armoire as she jogs down the stairs.

  Chapter 27

  Joselyn

  “So you fell asleep with Mr. Spencer?” Courtney murmurs, nudging me in the ribs as we stand in front of the coffee machine in the kitchen.

  Ollie is at the table sprinkling walnut pieces on top of the whipped cream he sprayed on top of the pure maple syrup he poured all over the massive chocolate chip pancakes Julien made for him.

  Again.

  “Ollie’s going to have diabetes by the time we leave here.” I nod towards the table, ignoring her elbow and her question.

  “Stop changing the subject. What happened?”

  I glance over my shoulder. Spencer always seems to materialize as soon as I start talking about him. Like the devil. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Taking my cup, I walk slowly to where Ollie’s sitting, glancing up the dark hallway and wondering when he might m
ake an appearance. My heart is hammering, but I have to act normal. No fawning or crowding.

  His eyes were so stormy when he kissed me. We covered a lot of ground last night, and I don’t want him to throw those walls back up.

  “I’d better get going.” Court sighs, joining us at the table. “What are you guys doing today?”

  “I thought we might check out CMT. They’re doing The Wizard of Oz, and it looks so cute.”

  “Cute?” Ollie’s nose wrinkles. “I want to play Roblox.”

  “We’re not sitting in the house all day while you play games after eating your body weight in chocolate chip pancakes and syrup.” Also, I’m hoping I might sneak my hand into Spencer’s during the show.

  “CMT… That’s the marionette theater?” Court drops her keys in her bag, and I nod. “Do you need any money or anything?”

  “I think I’ve got it.”

  “Superhero” Tom enters as we’re talking. He pauses at the coffee machine, but when he sees Courtney packing, he comes to where we’re talking. “Are you leaving for work?”

  “Yeah, but you really don’t have to follow me. I shouldn’t have any problems getting from my car into the building.”

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  My eyebrows rise, and I know this guy doesn’t deviate from any rules. I guess Spencer would have his balls if he did.

  “Ollie and I are planning to hit the CMT this morning, but maybe Spencer can go with us again? If he doesn’t have to work, of course.”

  Tom frowns down at me. “Mr. Carrollton just left for the airport. Stay here until I get back, and I’ll accompany you.”

  My heart drops with my jaw. “He… left for the airport?”

  “He’ll be in Boston until Sunday morning. I was just getting my instructions for while he’s gone.”

  Courtney’s dark eyes flash to mine. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “He must not have wanted to disturb us.” Although, I was dressed and running downstairs before him.

  Heat climbs the back of my neck, and I swallow the knot in my throat. Courtney is watching me, so I force a smile. I blink my eyes, doing my very best to seem unaffected, rather than confused and hurt he left town for two days without a word after last night.

  God, I’ve got to find us a new place to live.

  I step over and give her a quick hug. “Have a great day. I’m hitting the shower. When Tom gets back, we’ll head to the park.”

  Skipping out of the room, I dash a stubborn tear off my cheek with the heel of my hand. I am not crying over him. I push into the bathroom and switch on the hot water, stripping out of my clothes and throwing them in a ball on the other side of the room.

  Grabbing the shampoo, I step into the steaming heat. I want his seductive scent of sandalwood and leather off me. I want it out of my hair.

  I’m rebuilding my own resolve.

  We’ll see who begs next time.

  * * *

  “I liked it when the lion jumped out, and all the other puppets started shaking,” Ollie snorts, skipping along beside me and swinging my hand. “And the hot air balloon looked real. I think it was a real balloon!”

  “Maybe…” I’m not telling him otherwise. “I liked Glinda.”

  “And the flying monkeys!”

  I’m glad he’s having another happy day. It’s been years since I visited the CMT, back when it was in the Vista, closer to Spencer’s home. The new, larger space in the park means the productions are more elaborate.

  We’re walking through the park, along the red-brick canal path. Tom is never out of sight, but he gives us space. I almost want to call him to catch up and join us, but I don’t. I let him do his job.

  “Can we get a hot dog for lunch?” Ollie takes off running towards the vendor as I slide my phone out of my pocket to check for any missed calls or texts.

  The face is blank, and my heart sinks a little more.

  “Not doing this.” I promised myself I wouldn’t think about him again.

  Shoving the device into my pocket, I hurry to catch up with my little friend waiting at the hot dog vendor.

  One giant pretzel and a coney dog later, we’re in the backseat of Tom’s black town car headed back to our safe house. Staring out the window, I notice signs listing apartments for lease, and I wonder how long we’re supposed to be in this holding pattern at Spencer’s house.

  Ollie has fallen asleep on the arm rest, and I slide forward to where the glass divider is lowered.

  “Hey, Tom?” He lifts his chin to meet my eyes. “Did they give you an end date for this job?”

  His brow furrows. “We’re taking it on a week-by-week basis.”

  “A week!” My voice goes high, and I shake my head.

  He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’m staying past Sunday.

  “Is something wrong, Miss Winthrop?”

  “You can call me Joselyn… or Sly. That’s what everybody else calls me.” Shaking my head, I scoot back in the seat. “I have to talk to Courtney. We need to find our own place.”

  He doesn’t answer. We’re at the house, and I pick at a loose thread on my jeans, thinking about how Spencer swooped in and took charge, installing us here like helpless children.

  I was shaken and scared, and I let him.

  I’m more angry than scared now.

  After dinner, when I present it to Courtney, she does not cooperate. “He’s helping us stay safe until we can find a better apartment.” She says it like it’s the most normal thing.

  “But for how long? We can’t stay here forever, Court.” I’m walking around the room, feeling hurt and mad and angry. “He’s not even related to us. He’s not your boyfriend or mine…”

  Her lips press into a frown. “You’re upset about him leaving. I get it. But you haven’t started working yet, and we can’t go back to the old place. This is the longest I’ve gone without hearing from Ozzy, and I confess, I’m scared. I know he’s problematic, but I like Spencer. I like the extra security.”

  For the first time, I see the tension in her eyes, and I feel bad for pressing the matter.

  “Maybe we could stay at a hotel for a few days. I think some of those places rent rooms by the month.”

  “None we could afford.” Ollie’s splashing and making noises from the jacuzzi tub, and she stands. “I’d better check on him before he makes a big mess. I have a few appointments in the morning, but we can hop online and see what’s out there if it makes you feel better. For now, I think we should stay put.”

  “I’ll start looking in the morning. Maybe it’ll help us narrow down our choices.”

  She smiles, hugging my shoulders. “I’m glad to look.”

  Tightness is in my stomach, and I head to my shared room with Ollie. Who says I can’t start the search right now? Pulling out my otherwise useless phone, I open the app and start swiping.

  * * *

  My phone buzzing with a text startles me awake. I fell asleep last night searching for apartments, and I discovered Courtney was right. I need to get working.

  Lifting my phone, I hold my breath… Is it him?

  It’s not Spencer. My chest sinks, but it quickly rises when I see it’s my first appointment at Palmetto.

  They send me a cool little client dossier. Mrs. Wolfe is a geriatric patient recovering from a hip replacement. Her upper body and shoulders are tense from the physical therapy…

  So nice not to have to collect all this information myself. I can plan my course of treatment and be ready when I see her Monday.

  Momentary disappointment forgotten… sort of…

  I choose to focus on the positive angle of preparing for a new client. Mrs. Wolfe sounds like a nice old lady and not a maniac who’ll chase me into a women’s restroom then down twenty-two flights of stairs. The memory gives me a shiver.

  Hopping out of bed, I quickly put on leggings and a sweatshirt. Stopping at the mirror, I sweep my hair into a ponytail. The bruise on my cheek is a faint yellow now, and t
he cut is healed. Courtney stopped bandaging it shortly after we came here.

  Perhaps that’s why he could leave without a second thought. With the visible reminder of what happened gone, he forgot why he was so concerned in the first place.

  “Nope,” I say out loud to my reflection. “Still not going there.”

  “Going where?” Ollie’s voice is a whine from across the room. “Aunt Sly, my stomach hurts.”

  I go quickly to put my hand on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Do you feel nauseated? Crampy?”

  He rolls to his side with his little brow tight. “I want my mom.”

  “Your mom had to work this morning, babe.” Dropping to my knees, I try to smooth his bangs off his face, but he turns his face to the pillow. “She’ll be back after lunch. Want me to see if I can find you something?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Chewing my lip, I want to say it’s because he ate all the junk food in the world yesterday, starting with breakfast, but I don’t. If he really is sick, I’ll be eating those words later and feeling like an asshole.

  “Just stay in bed, and I’ll try to find something to help. Do you like ginger tea?” He makes a groaning sound, and I guess he’d be an extra special seven-year-old if he did. “I know, let me find some Sprite.”

  I manage to track down a sleeve of saltines and a warm Coke. Scooching in the bed beside him, I put the nature show he likes on the big television in our room.

  His head is in my lap and my phone is beside me as we watch hour after hour of wildebeests running across the African prairie or neon schools of fish swirling in the ocean or his favorite tree frogs hiding in green leaves or climbing limbs.

  I’m getting bored when I hear his little-boy snore and realize he’s asleep. Sliding my hand under his torso, I ease out of the bed and quietly into the hall. Checking my phone, it’s almost one. Courtney should be here soon.

  The house is dark and empty, and I guess Tom went to escort her from work.

  Walking through the elegant home, I stop at a built-in bookshelf. A round switch is beside it, and I twist it to turn on the recessed lights. A soft yellow glow illuminates a collection of antique trinkets.