Never

by Lulu Pratt

  Lily pouts and clasps the bottle of wine to her chest. “I won’t share any more if you don’t show me. All mine for the rest of the evening unless you plug that bad boy in.”

  “I don’t know, Lily. It’s so personal.” My plan didn’t include sharing the video with anyone other than Eric and David.

  “Kate Lilliana Monroe McArthur. This was not a romantic tryst, no matter how amazing it may have been. This was pure revenge fucking and you know it. Stop trying to treat this like some shiny, sparkly junior high love bullshit. You sucked that guy’s dick to make David jealous. Now gimme.”

  “It was such a nice cock, too.” I groan, remembering the exact feel of it in my mouth. I had never before in my life enjoyed fellatio until that moment. “No, you’re right. I’m being ridiculous. David is going to shit himself when he sees it.”

  “When are you going to show it to him?”

  “I’m not sure. I feel like I need to tell Vivian first, given the parties involved. Maybe I’ll save it for after everything finalizes. Not only will I get my freaking money that I deserve out of this shithole excuse of a marriage, but then I’m going to show him a video of me fucking his lawyer. God, I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

  “We should hold a showing at a drive-in. Sell popcorn. It could be great.”

  “Amazing. But no one else is going to see my bare ass, thank you very much. Why do you think I’m going to face him in person instead of emailing him? I can’t risk it being anywhere near the internet.”

  “Fine.” Lily slides next to me on the couch. “At this rate, no matter what happens to you in court, you’ll have his balls either way.”

  “Who’s laughing now, asshole?” I scowl, picturing David’s terrible, stupid face.

  “Us. We are laughing. Now you should show it to me. I need to see what will undoubtedly kill David, because karma is such a beautiful bitch.”

  “No, you can’t — hey!” I grab after Lily, but she’s off running and hooks the drive up to my TV. “Oh, God. This is going to be so bad.”

  “Please, what am I going to do? Leak it?”

  I pause and mull this over. “Maybe I could become the next famed hotel heiress with it. Get my own fashion line or something if it blows up.”

  “There’s the Kate I love. Now let’s see Mr. Lawyer-Man’s huge cock.”

  Lily plays around with the remotes until she’s got the video up on the screen. I immediately cycle from incredible embarrassment to arousal. I’d set up the camera before I met him the park, just in case. Everything from the moment we tumbled in the door was recorded and is now playing back.

  “Goddamn that boy undresses fast.” Lily breathes.

  “He’s superhuman.”

  Watching everything happen again makes me all but forget Lily is next to me until she started squealing and jumping in her seat, hitting me with pillows.

  “Did he just? Oh my God he did!” She smacks my arm. “Did you see what he just did to you?”

  It is so surreal to sit on the couch and watch this incredibly sexy man take total control of my body. From the way he licked my nipples down to his dark head between my legs. I can almost feel his hot mouth back down there.

  “Girl, you look so hot. Forget him. Look at how sexy you are, all wound up while he’s all up on you!” Lily smacks me with the pillow again. “Shit, if this David thing goes south, you should go into porn. I’d watch all your videos. I mean that in the least creepy way possible.”

  “I think I’m flattered?” I force out a laugh, but the air is stolen from my lungs. Watching this is such a bad idea. Every action on tape I can feel across my body: the way his body felt on mine, the firm way he grabbed me, the intensity of his tongue and lips.

  Lily gasps next to me. The angle shows a perfect angle of Eric’s cock. It looks magnificent in the lamplight. It felt just as good, if not better. We fall into total silence as we watch Eric and me have sex on top of very expensive hotel sheets. For a minute, I forget to breathe.

  “I gotta go home.” Lily suddenly says, breaking our trance. “I gotta go, um, you know. Stuff. Listen to me, Kate. Listen to me. If you can have sex with that man again, do it. He is so sexy and you two have this incredible chemistry that is like lightning. I would kill for someone to fuck me like that.”

  “You know that I can’t do that.”

  “Fine. Once your divorce is finalized, hunt that boy down and fuck him twice. Three times on Sunday.” Lily quickly gathers her things and gives me a peck on the cheek. “That was marvelous, thank you. It’ll hold me over ton… I mean, it was fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She practically runs out of my apartment and leaves me alone with the video still rolling. We’ve both just hit our second orgasms and he’s working his way back down between my legs. I get chills just thinking about it.

  “I want to know how you taste once I’ve marked you,” he told me.

  He says it again on the tape. I look around my apartment and find my glass of wine. I drain it, slip off my sundress, and sprawl out on the couch. I mean, what the hell, right? All I can think about is having Eric again, and that’s impossible. So I will take him any way I can have him, even if it’s just in my head.

  My fingers mimic his tongue against my clit. His groans fill my ears and I can see that he was stroking himself while licking me. It’s incredibly sexy. When I cry out in bliss in the video, real me climaxes at the same time.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ERIC

  “Tequila, boys.” Becky slides the tray into the middle of the table. She doesn’t look at me, but instead shoots a wink to Geoff. “Let me know when you need refills.”

  “Et tu, Brutus?” I slap him on the back after he shoots his tequila and am mildly disappointed he doesn’t spew it everywhere. “Decided to move in on my bar wench, did you?”

  “She’s not yours, Eric.” Geoff pulls himself up a bit, like he’s a real man instead of the slouch who regularly gets run over in court and in the bar. And the gym. “I’ve just been nice to her. People like it when you are nice to them, Eric.”

  Paxton and I are both astounded for a full minute. We gape like fish in a dirty bowl, trying to process how the guy nobody fucking likes scooped up a hot bar waitress. Geoff looks smug as hell and, frankly, I can’t blame him.

  “I knew something was up when we were boxing. I knew it. You lipped off to Paxton and that shit would never happen. Should have known it was because someone was stroking your balls.” I throw a light fist into his shoulder. “Geoff has become a man!”

  “I never said I slept with her.” Geoff burns a little red and has that whole annoyed schoolboy look going for him. “I just said I was nice to her.”

  “Just admit you fucked her.” Paxton says. “Admit it. It’s okay to sleep with people, Geoff. You’re allowed to get your dick wet.”

  “You guys really are assholes, you know that?” Geoff rolls his eyes. “I’ll go get another round.”

  “Say hi to your girlfriend for us! Tell her we miss her!” Paxton calls after him. “Well, I’ll be damned. Geoff took your girl.”

  “Becky isn’t my girl.” I say dismissively and attend to the vibrating phone in my pocket. A series of texts from David flood in, livid about his recent billing. I shoot back a quick reminder that if he kept his goddamn dick in his pants and listened to me, we wouldn’t have this problem. “I fucking hate this guy, Pax. Hate.”

  “We all take on dipshits we don’t like, because those dipshits have money. You don’t have to like him—”

  “I just have to like his wallet. Yeah, yeah.” I rub my face, frustrated. “I don’t understand what Kate ever saw in this guy. He’s an ugly fuck who can’t keep it in his pants. He’s whiny and compulsive. I knew he piggybacked off Kate’s contacts in LA to make it into the scene, but I swear to fuck this man has no talent.”

  “I liked his last movie.” Paxton shrugs. “So he’s a typical piece of Hollywood trash. You know they crawl out of the woodwork here. How is
he different from your other clients?”

  “He thinks he owns the planet.”

  “So do all those other fuckers.”

  “All those other fuckers don’t marry good humans.” I down my beer and turn my phone upside down so I can’t see the bullshit David’s still texting. “Kate’s record is impeccable, man. She’s always been the loyal, loving wife. Stands by his side, gets him into places that would rather give him the boot. Half of what he’s done has her name on it.”

  “We’ll touch on that other shit in a minute. I thought you said this case was a slam dunk?” Paxton leans across the table. “If her name is on everything…”

  “I know.” I throw myself back against the chair and stare at the nasty bar ceiling like it’s a fortune teller. Maybe if I stare long enough, it’ll tell me the secrets to the universe. “That’s because everyone has a past, man. Everyone. This town fuels itself on lies and deceit. But Kate is a genuinely good person. There’s no affairs, no sketchy shit. Thought I had her nailed on some topless photos from a few years ago with a dude, but it turned out to be a very gay friend, some make-up artist. They were on a shoot together and hit the local spots. Which means I have nothing.”

  “No wonder you’re sleeping for shit.” Paxton lets out a low whistle. “So the plan has been bully the fuck out of them in mediation.”

  “Exactly. Vivian isn’t standing for that, either, but if I can get Kate to buckle, maybe. Also, we’re calling into the legitimacy of her involvement in everything. I mean, we’ll be okay. I always win. It’s just stressful as fuck.”

  “I guess you sleeping with his wife isn’t providing its usual healing powers, eh?”

  “It’s just sex.” I wave him off and ignore the strange feelings in my gut. “I was hoping to break her a little with my dick.”

  “And?”

  “She’s proving to be formidable.”

  “Right. So back to all that bullshit you were spewing.” Paxton snaps his fingers at me. He knows I hate it. “Kate is not the purest human on the planet. Kate is a normal person who’d inherited an exceptional amount of money. Exceptional amounts of money mean secrets you can exploit.”

  “I know.”

  “Then fucking do it, man.” Paxton spreads his arms wide and shoot me a look that’s usually reserved for Geoff. “Quit prancing around and knock her out. You know, legally. But if you really like her—”

  “I don’t.” I jump in, again ignoring my gut. Apparently, I have a terrible case of Kate-shaped indigestion. “You know I don’t do feelings.”

  “Right.” Paxton pounds his glass on the table. “We are fucking cavemen. Brazen men looking to spread our seed and steal fat-fucker money. But you’ve got a problem, bro, and it needs to be addressed. Get her the fuck out of your head so you can land the killing blow without getting your balls in a knot.”

  “You’re right.” I know he is. Why Kate has gotten to me is questionable, but there’s probably something to do with my lack of sleep or excessive drinking or overhaul loathing of David McArthur. “She’s nothing to me. I just hate him.”

  “Prove it.”

  “What?”

  “Prove she’s not a problem. Prove to me, Ms Charity in Nicaragua—”

  “Honduras.”

  Paxton stares at me. “Jesus, this is worse than I thought.”

  “My job is to know my enemy, Pax. Don’t be a dick.” I smart off, but secretly file away all the other information about her charity work I might accidentally volunteer while drinking. She really is a hell of a woman. “I’ll prove it. See those girls over at the bar?”

  I point to a trio of very busty women, laughing over beers. Smart suits, bright red lips, briefcases. The dream, really, because they aren’t interested in long-term shit, either. They work too hard to lose their lives to men. Pax nods his approval.

  I order them a round of drinks and invite them over to our table. Geoff looks annoyed, finally back from wherever he disappeared to while allegedly getting drinks. The blonde shoots me a flirty wink when they walk over to meet Pax. I smile back, but my chest doesn’t feel right. For some reason I feel… ill. Like I need to go home.

  Like I shouldn’t be talking to these women.

  At that moment, my phone rings. It’s David, again. I grab my jacket from the table, holding up a finger like I’m coming back, and slip out the front door. For once in his life, that asshole proved useful.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  KATE

  There are precious few things in my life that I haven’t been able to settle while in the tub. Big tubs, big bubbles, hot water and a glass of wine, maybe something stronger, have the capability to make everything seem less toxic, more manageable. Tonight, I’ve got bubbles up to my eyeballs.

  “Maybe I just need to become a nun.” I say to my bright white bathroom tiles and take another sip of whiskey. “The opposite sex is clearly a disease.”

  Outside of my sanctuary, someone bangs on my front door. It’s a commanding knock, not a timid one, and it immediately sets my teeth on edge. The last time I heard that knock, it was the night before mediation and…

  I shudder. Not a place I’m willing to return. Instead, I sink deeper in the bubbles and pretend no one is there.

  They knock again, louder. And again.

  It is destroying my Zen vibes in the bathroom and that’s enough to make me angry.

  “This LA apartment may look comfortable, but the walls are thin and I need whoever the hell is outside to go away.” I call, stepping out of the tub and wrapping my dripping body in a towel. I carefully skirt through the water puddles so I don’t slip and fall. “It’s the middle of the freaking night and I—”

  My voice dies. The peephole doesn’t show David. It shows Eric Stevens. Looking disheveled, sexy and almost manic. I don’t remove the chain, but I turn the top lock and crack open the door.

  “What do you want?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” I have no idea what he wants and my entire body is on edge from it. He is painfully sexy in this light, with him so clearly flustered. It’s a powerful, manic energy. But we also haven’t spoken since we had sex in Lily’s hotel and, you know, that’s awkward. “Talk.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. It’s not menacing. It’s panty-dropping. If I were wearing them.

  “Kate, open the door.”

  I stare him back down, but my resolve edges away. Our business is not for my neighbors’ ears, and my thin apartment walls are still better than the hallway. Me being in a towel, however, is not exactly ideal. I slide the chain off the hook and hide behind the door.

  “I was just in the bath, so first I need to—”

  I don’t even know what I was going to finish saying, because as soon as Eric crosses the threshold of my apartment, he kicks the door shut and envelopes me with his entire body. My words die in his mouth, between his lips and his tongue. His hands take my hair and my waist and he claims me like something out of a black and white movie: with total absolution.

  Just like that, I’m lost in the feel and smell of him. He tastes like beer, but I taste like whiskey. His body warmth cascades down me and thaws every piece frigid from getting out of the bath. Eric is more aggressive than ever with his kisses. He bites, pulls and sucks like he’s desperate.

  I can feel myself slipping. It’s so easy to give in to him, to his power. He commands the entire room with his presence, but this was so unexpected that I have no choice but to obey anyway.

  He moves to my neck, biting and sucking while making my towel disappear. No longer cold, I’m burning hot and need him to stop the swell within me. I need Eric to touch me in all the most intimate places so I can get relief, relief, relief.

  “Eric.” I finally find my voice and fight against the growing need within me. “What are you doing?”

  “Tell me to stop if I need to stop.” He mutters against me. I’m thrust and lifted against the wall so he can take my breast in his mouth. He sucks hard and I gasp from
the pain and heat of him.

  “I—” The words die in my throat, because I can’t speak. I’m naked, pressed against a wall, with my nipple between the teeth of the man I couldn’t stop thinking about. Nothing within me, nothing, could tell him to stop.

  He looks up at me with intense, heavy dark eyes. I have nothing to say but yes, please, now.

  Eric carries me across the living room, his tongue massaging my nipple as he walks. My body illuminates under his touch. All I want is more. No talking, no thinking, just primal urges satiated in the candlelight of my apartment.

  We bump into the couch arm and he sets me down, fingers digging into my skin as I move against him and the thickness in his pants. Eric spins me around and spreads my legs with one hand while the other cups my breasts. He draws circles across my inner thighs, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy at his touch.

  He’s so close to what I need and yet so far. The perfect metaphor of whatever fucked-up relationship it is we have.

  The firm head of his cock presses against my opening and I cry out in desperation. I don’t wait for him to tease or for him to find me. Reaching back, I guide him into me and engulf his cock with my wetness.

  “You are a fever in my veins.” he grunts as he thrusts into me.

  Our first time together, we had sex for hours. After every orgasm, we kissed and licked and touched until he was ready to slip himself back inside me. Four hours passed, easily. Not once in that time did he fuck me the way he is now.

  The intensity radiating out of him spills into the way he loves me with his cock. Because there is no other word for it in this moment. It’s not a sweet love, it’s not a cherishing love, it’s dominating.

  I’m a fever in his veins. The words send chills through my body and make everything heightened. I wasn’t supposed to hear it, I know I wasn’t. Eric Stevens doesn’t show weakness around me. Tenderness, certainly. But not weaknesses.

  I reach behind and give his balls a squeeze. He stops mid-thrust and groans, his head to my back. His breath is heavy because as much as he acts in control, he’s desperate. And that is incredibly liberating. Sexy.