Searching for Beautiful

by Jennifer Probst

  Gen shrugged. "Not really. Another engagement. Kennedy was ecstatic about the growing statistics. Helped Kate a bit with her wedding plans. Saw Robert today. You?"

  He searched for something interesting while he ate. "Booked another big convention with the IT geeks. I think golfing helped. Those Wednesday outings with Nate opened up a whole new clientele. He's a smart son of a bitch."

  Gen smiled. "Rocket scientists usually are."

  "Aerospace engineer."

  "Right." She munched on a few fries. "How are Sawyer and Julietta doing? And the baby? How old is she now?"

  "Four months." A pang hit him. He missed his family. Since opening Purity, he hadn't been able to visit as much. He'd made it over for a long weekend for the birth of the baby, but Sawyer said she changed so much every day. He needed to schedule another visit. "They're good. Seem happy. Gabby has her days and nights mixed up so it's a bit tough, but Sawyer is crazed over her. God help the girl if she ever believes she can date."

  Gen laughed. "With your Italian family? It'll be a miracle. You should see Nick with Lily and Maria. Lily came home spouting about having a boyfriend in second grade. The man sat down and explained that hanging out with boys would make her less smart. Alexa found her crying in the morning, saying she was afraid to talk to boys and lose brainpower. Of course, Nick was in the doghouse for a long time with Old Yeller and Simba."

  Wolfe shook his head and laughed with her. This was perfect. Sharing funny stories about their families was one of their favorite things to do. She reached for more ketchup and the tank gaped open, giving him a glimpse of purple lace. She had a matching bra? What about the panties? Could it be a thong? No, she'd always said they were uncomfortable, but now his gaze would be glued to her ass to see if he caught any lines and--

  "Wolfe?"

  "Huh?"

  "I asked if there was any Diet Coke left?"

  "Oh yeah, here." He slid over the soda and got himself back together. "I got us some movies to watch tonight. Figured we both needed a lazy evening."

  "I'm not watching Fast & Furious sequel one million."

  "No, I got stuff you like. Shall We Dance. The Notebook. Steel Daffodils."

  "Magnolias."

  "Right."

  She glared at him suspiciously. Her full lips wrapped around the straw and sucked. The room misted for a few seconds, and Wolfe remembered the exact heat and pressure of those lips around his cock. How sweet and erotic the sight of Gen on her knees was, giving so much pleasure until--

  He jumped from the table, turned on the faucet, and began splashing cold water over his face. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

  "Hot flash."

  "You're not even menopausal yet."

  "Ha-ha. Men get them, too." He shook off the clinging droplets, switched to puppies in shelters as his go-to image, and sat back at the table. He would do this or die.

  "I don't feel like watching weepy chick flicks," she said. "Can we channel surf?"

  "Sure. Or we could play Scrabble."

  "Too brain-dead." She switched from soda to beer, taking a long sip and sighing in pleasure. "I did my first mixer at the Purple Haze. It was fun. Lots of work to make sure things go smoothly, but there's nothing like watching that first meeting. The hope each one has to find love. Gets me every time."

  He shifted in his seat. "Yep."

  "I'm thinking of telling Kate to try again. Find me another date. I think I had the wrong approach with Charles. I was looking to confirm my sexuality, but no man can do that for me. I need to do that for myself." Her blue eyes glittered with memories that matched his. "You helped me see that."

  His skin burned and his heart pounded and his palms sweat. "G-glad you finally realized it. You think you're ready to get back out there?"

  Her gaze hit him like an arrow. "I think I'm ready to try."

  His mouth went dry, so he took a long slug of beer. "Right. Yeah, probably a good idea. To get back out there." The words fell flat and a bitter taste stuck in his mouth. What did he expect? He'd been the one to say they had no relationship other than friendship. It would be good for him to finally let her go and stop trying to protect her. Forget the jealousy and possession. That was only for lovers. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Shit like that.

  He directed the rest of the conversation toward neutral subjects, cleaned everything up, and waited while she showered and changed. Her pj's were almost the same, comfy flannel shorts and a tank top. No bra. Her nipples pushed against the soft fabric, tempting and inviting his lips to suck and lick and bite.

  But he didn't. Friends didn't do that.

  They took their beers to the couch and stretched their legs out on the table, and he gave her the remote. He kept his gaze off her bare legs and pinned to the screen. They settled on House Hunters. He groaned enough to give the impression of surrendering, but damned if that stupid show hadn't hooked him good. He usually couldn't fall asleep until he knew which house the couple picked.

  Gen scoffed at house number two. "Did you see that? The guy doesn't care what his wife wants. The kitchen is a mess, and he's only focused on having a man cave. Selfish jerk."

  "Give me a break. She's all crazed about having a billion people over for parties. Wanna bet how many parties they have? A handful. Not with three kids--they have no time to entertain."

  "Maybe if he helped her more in the kitchen instead of relaxing in the man cave, they'd have more people over."

  "Maybe if she'd give him some alone time without nagging constantly, he'd help enough to throw the parties."

  She scoffed. He snorted.

  Wolfe relaxed. They settled into their usual playful banter, and hope gleamed bright over the horizon. They could do this. Once they retrained their bodies not to respond, he was sure their strong friendship would triumph.

  The couple picked the house with the good kitchen. Gen whooped, while he tried to look cranky and fight a smile.

  The channel clicked.

  The couple flashed over the screen. The girl was in a man's button-down, bare legs, hair messed. The guy held her tight, lifted her up, and suddenly they were in the bed. No. No. Why did this movie look so familiar? He prayed she'd change it, but the remote rested in her lap, her shorts hiked up enough to show off miles of thigh, leading to the center. All roads leading to sweet heaven.

  "Remember this movie?" she asked a bit breathlessly. "I love Timberlake!"

  No. Way.

  Friends with Benefits.

  The plot was a nightmare. Best friends who decide to sleep together without getting involved in a real relationship. His muscles tightened. "Kind of lame, huh?"

  "I liked it." They watched in silence as the couple kissed passionately and began ripping off each other's clothes. The air grew hot, his skin itched, and he wondered if he was going to lose his mind. He slugged down more beer.

  One glance over told him the worst. Gen was aroused. Her nipples were tight and hard, pressed against her tank. Her pulse pounded at the base of her neck. If he looked into her eyes, he was positive her pupils would be dilated. Her lips would be moist. And if he slid a hand under those shorts, under her panties, he'd find her drenched, tight, and throbbing. For him.

  Wolfe gripped the neck of the bottle. Prayed. His erection pushed painfully against his jeans, fighting to escape, and the room tilted as he struggled to fight the raw, bone-deep need to tumble her back and fuck her long and hard and well.

  The sexual tension twisted a notch tighter. His skin broke out in a sweat. Still her gaze stayed glued to the screen, but he caught her thighs squeezing together as if trying to ease an ache. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip.

  The dialogue in the movie slapped him in the face.

  "I miss sex."

  "I miss sex, too."

  "I mean sometimes you just need it."

  "Why does it always have to come with complications?"

  Nuns. Puppies. Babies crying. He dove for any type of images that would allow him a clean breath; a thought that wou
ldn't strangle his dick with painful, wretched heat. Slowly, ever so slowly, her head turned. Those blue eyes caught and held his.

  And it was done.

  They both moved so fast, barely a second passed before she was on his lap, her mouth fused to his, her fingers tugging at his hair. His tongue plunged into her mouth, drinking in the sweetness he missed and craved, and her ass ground against his thighs in a frantic effort to get closer. His hands yanked down her tank, baring her breasts, cupping the heavy weight and rubbing her tight nipples. She groaned deep in her throat and he swallowed the sound, his tongue tangling with hers while she began pulling at the snap of his jeans, tugging the zipper down.

  "Off," she growled like a sexy tigress. "Now."

  "Trying. You feel so good, taste so good." His hands were everywhere, greedy to touch her pale, silky skin, gorging on the scent of peaches and honey as his tongue continued its push and pull from her mouth. "Lift up." She raised herself a few inches and he managed to get her pants off, taking her flimsy underwear with them. He hissed as the scent of her arousal hit his nostrils. "Can't wait. Need you now."

  "Yes, yes," she chanted, her legs parting wide. He helped her get the jeans over his hips and kicked to the ground. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, and he almost wept with gratitude that he'd gone commando today. She scratched at his shoulders, bit his neck, and wiggled madly to get closer. Her skin burned under his hands, and lust glazed his sight as he tried to drink her in, enjoy her open sexuality, the way she challenged and fought him at every step for more.

  He gripped her thighs, lifted, and got ready to plunge.

  Shit.

  "Condom," he croaked. She stroked him roughly from base to tip and a shudder wracked his body. "Where?"

  Her curls spilled around her face and she blinked from a daze. "Don't have any. Got mad at you so I threw them all out."

  "You didn't."

  "I did. You have any?"

  A strangled laugh escaped. "Threw them away so I wouldn't be tempted." She kissed his mouth over and over, and his chest broke open, oozing out a rough mess of emotion. So loving and sweet and whole. "Sweetheart, gotta slow down. Gonna lose it."

  "Don't need the condom. I'm on the pill for my period. I'm clean."

  He kissed her long and hard. "I just got tested, so I'm good. Are you sure?"

  She squeezed his cock hard. "Does it look like I'm sure?"

  "Yes. Hold on tight. You're going on a ride."

  This time he didn't pause as he lifted her high and pulled her down hard and fast onto his cock.

  She cried out, closing her eyes, gritting her teeth. He panted for breath, the extraordinary feeling of being buried so deeply within her tight heat so good he wanted to weep. She pulsed and milked him with tiny grips, urging him for more. Leveraging his back against the cushions, he began to lift her up and down, each time slamming a bit harder, sliding an inch deeper. The barbell hit her clit with each slow drag, and he twisted his hips to hit her special spot that made her body clench and shiver all over. Oh yeah. So fucking good.

  Her voice broke. "Gonna come. Oh, God, can't wait."

  "Not yet. I'm not done with you."

  She arched for more, ready to get to climax, but he slowed the pace and the angle, refusing her. She groaned, bent over, and bit his shoulder. Hard.

  "That's right, baby. Give me all you got."

  "Bastard." She dug her nails into his chest, rubbing her nipples against him, and clenched her thighs tight in an effort to get him to move faster. He punished her by pinching her nipples, then grabbing her ass to control her better.

  She surrendered, whimpering, shuddering, and suddenly he was done with play.

  Wolfe surged one last time.

  She came hard, crying out his name as her body convulsed. He kept the intense pace until the last of her pleasure was wrung from her body. Rubbed her clit side to side with fast motions, spilling her into another hard orgasm. Then let go.

  He came inside her, loving the feel of her on his bare skin, loving the feeling of being completely connected and part of her sweet little body without any barriers between them. She collapsed onto his lap, her arms tight around his shoulders, his dick buried deep in her cunt.

  Wolfe closed his eyes and held her like the precious gift she was. Knowing he couldn't fight it any longer. Not knowing what the answer was.

  She opened one eye. "Still friends?"

  He laughed, kissing her shoulder. "Definitely. Friends with benefits?"

  "Yes. I don't want to fight it. How about this? We take it day by day. If we want to have sex, we do. No questions asked."

  "I don't want us to date or sleep with anyone else."

  She smiled and kissed him gently. "That's a requirement. Let's see how it goes. When you move out, maybe that will be a signal for us to go back to being platonic. But why deny ourselves this?"

  His fingers caressed her buttocks, catching her shiver. "You're right. Because this is extraordinary."

  "We don't have to end up like a stupid movie. We can play this on our terms."

  "You're right. Our friendship is strong enough to handle great, mind-blowing sex. It will be good for us."

  "Definitely. Now take me to bed," she demanded.

  He lifted her up and stalked into the bedroom. Amazing how clear everything suddenly seemed. Maybe seeing that movie was a sign. A good sign. They'd handle it together. In the meantime, they wouldn't have to fight their attraction. Taking it day by day was sheer genius.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  He ignored the warning voice and concentrated on the woman in his arms.

  VINCENT SOLDANO STEPPED INTO the makeshift bedroom, pushed away the cheap Harry Potter poster he'd gotten when he was young, and put the rest of the money into the hole in the wall. He felt like the prisoner from the Shawshank movie, hiding his escape route behind some lame-assed wall hanging. But it worked. None of the men or his mom had found it since he'd needed to move his stash.

  He was getting the hell out.

  He had money. The knife. Clothes. Backpack. A few personal items. Food and water. He'd grown larger over the last year, and held more of a presence. He was less of a scrawny kid, on the verge of being a man, and he figured it gave him a better shot in the world. No foster care or crap for him. Just him, his wits, and his survival.

  The shouts grew louder and he cursed under his breath. Wished he'd left yesterday, but he wanted one more day to make sure his escape was well planned. Better to have his mother completely drugged up and wasted so she didn't think to look for him awhile. The more distractions the better, and last night had been way too quiet. But now it seemed a full-fledged party was going on. After the sex and the drugs, he'd be able to stroll out the door without a glance back.

  It was finally done.

  He spent the next hour distracting himself, listening to the night grow more rowdy. The knock on the door surprised him. He tensed.

  "Yeah?"

  "Hey, kid, come on out here. Your mom needs you."

  He rarely listened, but something about this being the last time seeing his mom made him a bit soft. His knife was in his pocket, but this time he'd gotten much more adept at using it. He was pretty deadly, practicing constantly and giving himself drills in order to protect himself. Next time, he'd be ready.

  He stepped out with a scowl. "What?"

  His mother leaned against the wall, eyes bloodshot, mouth half open with ecstasy. Seeing things that weren't there or didn't exist. He hoped they were good things rather than bad. "Hey, baby!" A thin trickle of saliva ran from her lips and dripped on her torn tank. One bare breast hung out and he deftly avoided looking at her body, concentrating on her face. The paraphernalia was laid out carefully. Weed. Crack. Empty bottles of whiskey and vodka. Beer cans. Someone was screwing in the back room, but the asshole who had knocked had a funny look in his eyes. Like he was excited about something.

  "Your mom is toasted," the squat, muscular pimp announced. "She's not gonna be
much help for me tonight. So we need you."

  His gut twisted. Adrenaline began to pump through his veins, a reaction to the dangerous aura in the air. The dealer called himself Scott. Been around awhile, taking care of his mother when she was strung out, pushing her to work harder being a whore. Vincent didn't get the same creepy kind of vibe he got from the last few, and Scott seemed to leave him alone. Didn't seem like he was into males.

  And that's where Vincent realized he'd made his major mistake.

  "Yeah, well, can't help you out." He acted casual, sneering, the knife comfortable in his pocket. He headed toward the door, but the dealer blocked him. A tiny smirk came across his lips.

  "I think you can," he drawled. Vincent tensed. Knew he had a good shot at taking him. "See, your mom ran out of money. Ran out of favors. So tonight, she called in her last chip."

  His mother smiled so sickly and sweetly he thought he'd vomit. "Sorry, baby. Gotta help me. Gotta help."

  He clenched his fists and fought for breath. He might have to run without his stash. Fuck. "If you think I'm some kinda whore like her, you're wrong. You touch me and I'll kill you."

  Scott grinned. "Ever try it? Maybe it's not so bad. Tell you what, do it this one time for me and we'll call it even. I won't bother you or your mother again."

  He took a step back but refused to glance at the door. Too close. He'd have to run. His hand slid behind his back, slipped out the knife, and clenched it in his hand. He couldn't miss. There was too much at stake. "Didn't know you were a homo, pimp," he sneered, trying to distract him. "Whatsa matter? Your dick not big enough for a woman?"

  Scott kept grinning and began walking toward him. "We can do this hard or real easy. I've given you time. Space. Let you steal money from me when you thought I wasn't looking. But now it's time to pay up."

  Vincent swallowed past the nausea and fear overtaking him, lifted the knife, and with a perfect arc threw it in the air.

  The blade hit its target, piercing the man's upper chest.

  Vincent didn't wait to see the damage. He turned and raced for the only exit, knowing if he didn't get there he wouldn't have another chance.

  Scott's howl reached his ears. Scrambling feet. The knob turned, slid, twisted. Clean air rushed over him. One sneaker hit the ground, found purchase, and he began to run.