There’s a shrug followed by, “Oh, nothing,” as she picks up her fork and makes short work of the potato salad on her plate. I watch her and realize I’m the luckiest guy I know. Well, okay, maybe Clint’s got me beat, but not by much. This woman is amazing.
The clock catches my eye. “Damn! I’ve got to finish this and get it cleaned up. I want to watch the news. There was a big bank robbery this afternoon at a bank downtown and I want to see if they’ve caught the guy.” I’m gobbling up my food as fast as I can. The food is gone but before I can pick up my plate, she puts a hand on mine. “What?”
She tosses her head in the direction of the living room. “Go. I’ll clean up.”
“But are you sure you . . .”
“Go!” she demands and points toward the living room. I kiss her forehead and head that way.
They’re still talking about the robbery when she joins me on the sofa. “What happened?”
“Oh, some asshat walked into the Fidelity Bank and held them up at gunpoint. Didn’t hurt anybody, but they’re pretty sure it’s the same guy who robbed another one of their branches last week and a Citizens Savings Bank the week before.”
“At gunpoint?”
“Yeah. I don’t ever want any of my people exposed to that.” It worries me. Seems like our banks are the only local ones this guy hasn’t hit. “I’m calling my boss tomorrow to ask for more security at all our locations until this guy is caught.”
“Good idea.” Now they’re talking about some balloon launch in France, and Sheila drops to her knees in front of me. The care she’s putting into unbuckling my belt and unbuttoning and unzipping my pants is making me want her so much more; it’s like torture, a sweet torture. God, those pouty pink lips and big blue eyes are so fucking gorgeous and unbelievably sexy. Her small, soft hands around my dick harden it until I hurt, and she starts pumping up and down slowly, dragging out every movement. “You’re so hard, baby. Aching?”
I drop my head onto the back of the sofa. “Um-hum. Throbbing.”
“Dark too. Look at that. So big and hard.” She nibbles at the tip, runs her tongue into the slit, nibbles all the way down one side, around and underneath the base, and then up the other side. I know I’m moaning out loud, but I don’t care. It’s too damn good not to.
“Babe, take me in your mouth. Please. I can’t stand it anymore.” I see those luscious lips open wide and then my cock vanishes into her throat. It’s a beautiful sight, my manhood buried in that heat, her tongue trailing up and down its length. “You ever had your face fucked?” She nods. “Tolerate it?” There’s the sensation of her grinning around my shaft, and she nods again. “Then that’s what I’m about to do. I’ll let you work for a little while, but then I’m taking over.” She works it, letting her lips slide down, down, down, until I feel the head of my cock hit the back of her throat and her lips almost seat themselves at its base. Boy oh boy, this woman knows what she’s doing.
My takeover never happens. I just get lost in what she’s doing, how it feels, how she looks, and I know my eyes must be glazed over, but I really don’t care. It’s like magic, watching my dick disappear and reappear like a cuckoo in a clock, her eyes watering and nose running as she takes it down again and again, never stopping more than a few seconds. I realize I’m gripping the piping on the edges of the sofa cushions with my hands, and I start to shake all over. She’s got me, controlling me, owning me with that rosy mouth of hers, and I’m trying so hard to keep from coming, trying to make it last, and I don’t know how long I can. “Sweet lord, baby, you’re tormenting me, know that? It’s torture, girl.”
What she does next surprises me. As she keeps up the steady rhythm, she stands and works while she’s bent over. I’m trying to figure out what she’s doing, and then it’s clear: She’s undressing. That’s a neat trick. She’s got on a blouse that buttons up the front – how convenient. When she’s completely bare, she reaches for the waistband of my pants and I raise my ass up just enough for her to pull them down. In the meantime, I yank my tee shirt over my head and try to throw it on the floor, but she grabs it instead.
All of that activity has distracted me a bit, but not much, and I’m peaking all over again. She’s shifting somehow, and then I hear that familiar sound of foil ripping. Next thing I know, she’s up, rolls a condom onto my stony shaft, and proceeds to mount me. Once she’s fully seated on my cock, she puts my tee shirt to her face, blows her nose, wipes her face, and then leans in and kisses me. Sultry describes it to the letter when those big, hard nipples brush my chest. I just stay reclined against the back of the sofa while she braces herself, hands on my shoulders, and lifts and falls, those ripe tits bouncing just a little each time she hits bottom. I can’t say a word; I’m too wrapped up in the way her body is undulating. The flush that spreads across her chest, up her neck, onto her cheeks and down to the tops of her tits lights me up like a Christmas tree. Everything about her says sex, and it’s overwhelming.
Without warning, I come. I was trying so hard not to, but when I do, she slams up and down on me a half dozen times and trembles with her own orgasm. Finally falling forward on my chest, she wraps her arms around my waist and I do the same with her. My kiss applied to the top of her head makes her purr. “Girl, you are just full of surprises.”
I hear a little giggle. “I know. I’ve always been like that. My friends call me Captain Random because you never know what I’m going to do next.”
“That’s fun!”
“Not always.” Pressing her hands into my chest, she pushes herself upright, my dick still buried in her. “It can be annoying. Like deciding on the spur of the moment to pick up German food.”
“No, that’s charming.”
“As long as you’re not busy, especially as long as you’re not busy with someone else.”
That takes me by surprise. “Sheila, I told you, there is no one else.”
“I know you said that, but . . .”
“But what?”
She shakes her head. “Look at you. You’re like a Norse god. Every woman in the restaurant the other night was eyeing you, and about seventy-five percent of them were drooling too.” There’s a long pause, and then she asks, “Steffen, are you . . .”
“No. Again, I’m telling you, there’s. No. One. Else. I’ve never made it a habit to date more than one woman at a time. It gets too complicated, and it also gets in the way of growing a relationship. So no, there isn’t and won’t be until such time as you no longer want to see me.”
“That’s not going to happen.” She grins like a jack-o-lantern.
I tip my head toward the hallway. “Good. Now, shall we continue this in the bedroom?” An odd look crosses her face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Girl, that’s the second time you’ve said that to me tonight. Now, what is it?”
She shrugs. “It’s just that I’m exhausted. All I really want to do is sleep. Would that be okay?”
I can’t help it – I throw my head back and laugh. “You just took me on a wild ride and you’re afraid I’ll be mad because you just want to sleep? Go get cleaned up and climb in the bed. I’ll lock up and be there in a few minutes.”
There’s that one hundred megawatt smile. “Okay. I just want to cuddle with you.” She leans in again and kisses me.
That beautiful face. I’ll never grow tired of that beautiful face. Her smile is like sunshine and lights up the room. I take that face in my hands and tenderly kiss her back. “I want to cuddle with you too.” I slap her thigh. “Go! Get ready for bed.” She gives me another peck on the lips, disengages herself from my worn-out cock, and heads down the hall.
I lock the door, pick up my clothes, look around to see if anything else is necessary, and make the trip down the hall to the bedroom. There, I’m greeted with the sight of her angelic face on my pillow, eyes closed and breathing softly. Disturbed as I scoot into the bed, she rolls up against me and curls up, her face to my chest. My arms can’t hold her tight enough, my lips can
’t kiss her sweetly enough. I want this woman to be mine. And for the first time in forever, I feel like I just might have a chance at that.
Clint forks up a mouthful of Caesar salad. “So, how are you guys doing?”
“I think we’re doing pretty good. You were right.”
“How so?”
“I’ve fallen for her.”
He grins from ear to ear. “I knew it!”
“The good news is that she’s fallen for me too.”
“Excellent! My goal is closer than I thought.”
I take a sip of my water. “So, what’s going on with her asshole ex?”
“He’s up for parole. I don’t think he’ll get it. From what we hear, he’s been in a dozen or more fights since he got there.” Clint pushes his empty salad plate away and props his elbows on the table. “He’s just trouble all the way around. Trish says he wasn’t always like this. Sheila thinks he got involved in drugs.”
“That’ll do it for sure.” I’ve finished my salad too and I’m really hungry for that chicken piccata. “We’re going to the club tonight. You guys?”
“Nah. Can’t. McKenna’s got some school program we’re going to.” He sits and fiddles with his fork for a second or two and then tears down my whole world with one question. “Have you told Sheila about you know who?”
I’m really confused at first. “Who are you talking about?”
“You know, She Who Shall Not Be Named.”
And it hits me. Oh, god, no. I don’t want to talk about her, think about her, hear her name, consider the fact that she’s on the same planet with me. “No. I have not. I don’t want to either.”
“Does that mean you finally got the divorce finalized?”
A sense of dread like a tidal wave sweeps over me. “No. They’ve never found her.”
“Don’t you think you should tell Sheila?”
“Why? That has nothing to do with my life now.” I’m starting to feel panicky. I feel that way any time this subject comes up. It’s like I’m being choked by an unseen hand, my chest tightening, breathing shallow, stomach churning.
Clint lowers his head and looks up at me from under his brows. “Steffen, technically you’re still married.”
That pisses me off. “No, I’m not.”
He gives me The Look. “Okay, if you decided you wanted to get married tomorrow . . .”
“Which I won’t,” I’m quick to counter.
“Okay, but if you did, could you? Legally, I mean?” He gives me The Other Look.
A big sigh escapes my lips. “No. Legally, I couldn’t.”
“Then you should tell Sheila. Didn’t she ask you if you’d ever been married?”
“No.”
“Have you discussed past relationships?”
“No. She didn’t want to because of her ex, and I don’t want to either. I think she’s afraid of knowing about all the subs I’ve worked with too.”
Now he’s getting kind of pissed, I can tell. “I told you how she’s wired. She won’t tolerate lying of any kind, and you’ve as good as lied to her. Why didn’t you just tell her?”
“Because,” I offer and shrug, “because, honestly, I just forgot. Until now. So thanks for reminding me,” I add with a snarl.
Now it’s his turn to sigh and drop back into his chair. “I’ve tried to forget too. That was a mess. I don’t ever want to relive that.”
“Me neither.”
I decide right then that I’m saying nothing to Sheila. But I have a phone call to make.
Damn Clint for making me think about this stuff. After I’ve dealt with the heightened security at the bank, I make the call to Michael Riley. He’s not in, but when he calls me back, he knows exactly what I want.
“Mr. Cothran?”
“Yes! Any luck?”
“No, sir. The investigators haven’t been able to find her.” He hesitates, then asks me, “Is there a particular reason you’re trying to find her? You know, besides the obvious?”
“Yes, actually, there is. If I get to a point that I have to find her to move forward and can’t, is there anything I can do?”
“Oh, yes. You can just petition the court and have it taken care of. It won’t be that easy, and it’ll probably take several months for them to confirm that she can’t be found but, after that, it’ll go on through. No judge in the land would leave you dangling like that if he knows you’ve exhausted all channels.” Relief washes over me just hearing that. “Would you like for me to start that process now?”
I think for a minute. “How long are we talking here?”
“It could be a few weeks, and it could be a few months. No way of knowing. But I can’t imagine it could take a year.”
“Yeah. Do it. Let me know what I need to do, if I need to appear, whatever. But set it in motion.”
“Will do, sir.”
“Thanks, Mr. Riley. I appreciate it. Let me know.”
“I’ll keep you informed, sir.”
There – done. Maybe in a few months that horrible part of my life will be over, thank god. And Sheila will never have to know, at least until our relationship is pretty well settled.
Chapter Six
“Let’s see.” Various articles of not-quite-clothing are spread out on the bed for me to look over. “What are you thinking? In the way of putting it together, I mean.”
Sheila’s fingers skim over the lace. “Well, I thought I’d wear the bra, the thong, the garter belt and hose, and the tutu.”
A chuckle makes its way out before I can stop it. “You know I love the tutu.”
“You’re just saying that. Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, I’m not! I really do love it. Put it all on. Shoes?” She picks up a pair of low cut stiletto-heeled boots. “I love those. Really. Do it. Put it all on and let me see.”
“Leave then.”
I laugh. “I’ve seen you naked and fucking me in the living room and now you’re shy?”
“No! I want you to be surprised when you see the whole thing.” Off comes her top while she’s talking.
“Okay, okay! I’ll go. Let me know when I can come in.”
“I will.” I give her a little peck of a kiss as I walk out of the room and up the hallway. Before I can even sit down on her sofa with the paper, she calls out, “You can come back.”
“Good, because I . . . holy shit.” The sight that greets me takes my breath away. Those long legs look longer, those full tits look fuller, and that high, firm ass is breathtaking. “Wow! I don’t think I should let you wear that to the club.” She frowns, and I laugh. “I’ll wind up getting my ass kicked by a dozen guys who want you to themselves.”
“They’ll just be disappointed. See, I’m going there with this guy who’s amazing and sexy and smart and funny and . . .” She marches right up to me and kisses me, and I almost melt.
I break the kiss and grin. “Don’t forget lucky. Very lucky.”
“Oh, yeah! Lucky.” She starts stripping everything off. “How late are we staying? And what are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure all of that out when we get there.”
The club is packed, busier than I’ve seen it in a good while. After disappearing into the locker room, Sheila comes back out toward the bar where I’m sitting, and I hear Dave mutter under his breath, “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, I had the same reaction when she tried it on for me earlier.”
“That’s one fine-looking woman. You’re a lucky man.” I love the way he’s looking at her, like he could eat her up.
“Yes, I am. And yes, she is. She’s beautiful in every way. Hey, baby!” She wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Hi, Dave!”
“Hey, sweetie! Don’t you look like a vision!”
“Thanks! So, babe, what’s up?”
I level my gaze with hers. “From this point on, you’ll address me as Sir. Walk right over there and get that big pillow. And walk slowly so I can watch your delicious ass.”
“Ye
s, Sir.” She grins as she walks away.
“Clint told me what you talked about.”
I turn to Dave. “Not you too? I don’t want to talk about that.”
Dave shakes his head slowly. “Steffen, you need to tell her.”
I give my head a shake. “It’ll be taken care of before she needs to know. And then she’ll never need to know.”
“She’ll always need to know if the man she’s involved with is already married.” About that time, Sheila comes back, pillow in hand.
I point to the floor. “Drop it and kneel.”
“Yes, Sir.” She does exactly that, and fairly gracefully too.
I chat with Dave for about ten more minutes, and she rests her head against my thigh as I stroke that long hair, copper-penny bright and glowing. Randomly and out of nowhere, I suddenly wonder if any kids she might have would have hair that color, and then I realize that she’s at an age where if she’s going to have a kid, it has to be soon. Has she ever thought about that? Would she even want that? I’d only thought about it once before, and that was a long time ago. What the hell am I doing thinking about this? I’d better get my shit together. Nobody’s having a baby anytime soon. I must’ve had an odd look on my face because Dave asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just had something on my mind. Guess we’d better get to it if we’re going to scene. Sub, rise for me.” I take her hand to steady her and she comes up, proving to me that she’s been practicing by the ease she displays. We stroll across the room, take in the scenes going on, and find a seat on a sofa. “So, what do you have in mind tonight?”
The wheels are turning, based on the look on her face. Finally, she says, “Um, I like restraint.” But her lip trembles just a little when she asks, “And what about flogging?”
“You’ve never been flogged. Sure that’s what you want?” She nods. “On the St. Andrew’s?” She nods again. “No top, just your garter belt, hose, and heels. Just move your thong to the side.” I know how hard it is to get a thong off when you’re wearing a garter belt. It requires undressing and redressing. No need for that. Then something shifts, but I don’t know what. “What’s wrong? Sheila, talk to me.” Her eyes have gotten red and it appears she’s about to cry.
Unforgettable You (Me, You, and Us Book 2) Page 9