“I’ll take that,” I said, taking Garrison’s computer bag from him.
“What the fuck are you wearing,” he whispered.
“Shut up. You have no room to be judging anyone,” I assured him, jerking the bag out of his hand. He didn’t let go of it. Instead, he used it to pull me back to him.
“Seems to me, I do. I’m not the only one taking money for a piece of ass, am I?” he accused, letting go of the bag.
I wasn’t going to stand there and argue with him. I could have told him I wasn’t with Garrison for his money. I had my own money left to me by my father. Well, it was a little contingent on Garrison. But what I had saved from my trust fund was mine to keep. He couldn’t touch that. I just wouldn’t get any more if I divorced him.
I walked away from Sam, knowing he was staring after me. Garrison stayed on his phone until Sam had us too far away from shore to access any cell service.
“Isn’t this nice, Garrison,” I said, trying to have a conversation.
“It’s hot.”
“The breeze isn’t hot. I think it feels rejuvenating. Take your shirt off, soak up some sun,” I suggested, gaining a look that told me I crossed a line.
“I hope that was some sort of cry to be funny.”
I took a deep breath and ignored his judgmental statement. It was pointless anyway. “I’m going to get something to drink. You want something?”
“Not yet, maybe later.” Garrison never batted another eye at me. He was too busy retrieving his laptop and stacks of folders full of oil evidence.
“I don’t even know what to say to you,” Sam said, shaking his head with the same judgmental expression I’d just gotten from my husband.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, glancing up while I poured wine. Sam leaned against the threshold with his hands in his jean pockets.
“Why are you with that? How does something like that even get a girl like you?”
“That? He’s not a that. He’s my husband.”
“Yes, I know. That’s what has me baffled. Why?” he asked, taking a step to me. I looked out the glass door, not wanting Garrison to see him this close to me. I don’t know what I was worried about. Garrison would be drowning in paperwork for the entire outing.
“He’s a goofy-looking nerd. You couldn’t do any better than that?”
“Who are you to judge me? At least my marriage is still going strong.”
“HA!” he laughed. “That’s funny. If it doesn’t work out you can get a job, a standup comedian maybe.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means…you’re full of shit. The only reason you’re with a dweeb like that is for his money. It’s obvious he doesn’t give you what you need. You wouldn’t be paying me to do if he did. What’s the matter? Garrison, the bigtime lawyer, won’t spank his wife?”
“Fuck you, Sam. You don’t know anything about me.”
“You’re right. You are absolutely right. I know nothing about you except for one thing.”
I shouldn’t have done it, but I did. I had to ask. “Yeah, what’s that, wiseass?”
“I know that he doesn’t deserve you. I know that I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, and I can’t get enough of you. Tell me you don’t feel the same thing, Kendra. Tell me this doesn’t do to you what it does me,” Sam yelled in a loud whisper. I started to ask what, but got the answer when his tongue parted my lips.
I kissed him back, knowing goddamn well I felt it, too. I felt the electricity move from his body to mine every time the man touched me. I whimpered, moving my head to the side when he lifted my legs around his waist. His hot hands on my legs and then my hips were electrifying, felt all the way to my toes.
“Kendra? Kendra?” Garrison called. Sam set my feet down and kissed the end of my nose. He turned and left without another word. The two men in my life exchanged a nod as Sam passed him, tilting the bottle of water in his direction. Garrison distantly gave him a once over.
“Ahh, it’s cool in here,” he realized. I knew he was done with the deck when I saw the folders and laptop in his arms. “I’m going to the suite to work. I can’t stand that heat. I’ll take that glass of wine, but could you bring it to me? My hands are full.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right in.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking confused.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You just look a little flushed. You’re not getting sick are you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should come in the suite, out of the heat, too. You can read on you tablet thing while I work.”
“No. I’m fine. Really. I want to go up on the top deck and get some sun.”
“Okay, you’re bringing wine?”
“Yes, I’ll bring a bottle in an ice bucket in case you want more.”
“Good idea. Thank you.”
Oh dear lord…
I stewed over the things Sam said to me for over an hour, staring out to the sea rather than the book I was reading. I was really intrigued as to where it was going. The sexual chemistry between these two was hot as hell. I was definitely going to check out this new author. I typed her name, Leddy Harper, in a notepad on my tablet, wanting to search for more of her work later, hoping she had other books.
I closed out the book after reading the same paragraph three times. I would have to find out if Dane had sex with Eden later. This was nonsense. It had to stop. That’s all there was to it. I pulled my shawl back over my shoulders and went to Garrison.
“You need anything? Are you hungry yet?”
“No, but can you tell that guy we need to head back? I need a fax machine,” Garrison asked, not even looking up from his laptop. What the hell was the point in coming out here?
“Sure, I’ll go tell him now.”
I smiled and shook my head at Sam. He was steering with his feet, partially whistling and partially singing something about a bottle of rum. I sat beside him and he stopped.
“Take that thing off. You look ridiculous,” he said, sliding my shawl off my shoulders.
“Garrison needs to go back. He needs a fax machine.”
I thought the ninety-foot yacht was going to capsize when Sam sat up straight, jerked the helm wheel, and spun us around. I was sure he just dumped all Garrison’s work on the floor.
“You idiot. You trying to sink us?” I yelled.
“No. I would save you, not him.”
“Sam. You have to stop this. We had an agreement. What do you think is going to happen between us? If you can’t do your job and do what I ask you to do then don’t do it, but stop with the feelings crap. I don’t do feelings.”
“You don’t do feelings because they scare the hell out of you. You want me to treat you like a sewer rat, dominate you, and tell you what you’re going to do in bed? I can do that. Let’s do that, Kendra,” he sang. I didn’t like his tone. I knew he was being an ass about it.
I shook my head and growled from my throat. He was impossible.
“How about we do it now. You wearing panties under here?” he asked, sliding his hand up my leg, right to my pussy.
I jumped, surprised at his outburst.
“This what you want, baby?” he asked, moving my panties to the side.
I wanted to get pissed and yell at him, protest, and tell him to stop. I couldn’t. I did want it. I wanted him to treat me just like he was. I glared at him with narrowed eyes and lifted both my feet to the control deck, spread my knees and answered him without words.
Sam snorted and shook his own head in knowing disbelief. “Does this make it all better for you, Kendra, I mean, Sewer Rat? Is that what your pussy wants?”
I tried not to moan, when he shoved two fingers deep inside my pussy. Grasping the armrests, I did. Yes. That was exactly what I wanted.
“Answer me. You wouldn’t want me to have to spank you, would you? Garrison might hear you.”
Jesus. Why did he have to go and say that? “Do it,” I o
rdered.
“Do what?” he asked, taken aback. I didn’t care. I was in control here, and I was paying him. He was playing by the rules. My rules. I stood and raised the hem of my dress over my ass. Placing my hands flat on the glass door, I knew I would see Garrison before he saw me.
“Punish me, Sam.” I coaxed again, shocking him the way he had me. Or so I thought anyway.
Sam didn’t falter the way I thought he would. He jerked my panties to my knees and cracked my bare ass. Call me sick, but the sting shot right around to my throbbing, wet pussy.
“You want to be spanked? Is that how you like it, Mouse?” he asked, delivering blow after gratifying blow to my ass cheeks. All he had to do was touch me and I would have come. He didn’t do that. I counted every last slap to my bare ass, feeling the sting, and knowing his handprints were there in red. I was so fucking turned on I couldn’t stand it.
Sam grabbed the back of my hair after nine tantalizing, magnificent smacks and whispered in my ear. “Is that what you want, Mouse? You like that, do you? Get on your knees and suck my cock,” he ordered, pulling my hair and ordering me to drop to my knees. “Take it out, Mouse. I’m going to fuck your mouth now.”
I couldn’t take it out fast enough. I gladly dropped to my knees and released his massive rod. He was just as into the whole dominating thing as I was. His handprints plastered across my ass turned him on, and his dick proved it. I gagged instantly when he grabbed my head and shoved his dick to the back of my throat. Jesus. I was so fucking hot. My heart was pounding out of my chest while I let Sam fuck my mouth anyway he wanted.
“You ever taste Garrison’s come? Do you let him shoot his load in your mouth? Huh, Mouse? Do you?”
I shook my head, no, feeling his words go straight to my throbbing pussy. I needed to come. I needed to come so fucking bad. I always wanted to try it, but I didn’t have a willing partner to try it with. Sam moaned, petting my face and head like an animal while he grunted, thrusting in and out of my mouth. That drove me crazy, too. I moved my left hand between my legs, feeling how wet I was for two seconds.
“Uh-uh. Not yet, Mouse. I’ll tell you when you can come.”
Shit. Dammit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
Three more gags and two more moans, that’s when Sam pulled out of my mouth and squeezed my cheeks. I had to blink away the image of Adriana always doing that to me. “You ready?” Sam rasped, jerking off above me. Holy fuck. That was the hottest thing I ever saw. I nodded, looking up to his eyes. “Show me your tongue, Mouse,” he whispered right before another moan and the first bout of warm come hit my tongue. I swallowed and Sam squeezed my jaws, wanting to ejaculate the rest of his come in my mouth. Shuddering above me, he jerked until every last drop was expelled from his balls.
“Good girl, Mouse,” he whispered from above me, sliding wet come around my lips with the head of his cock. I was going to explode if I didn’t come soon. I swear the man had ESP or something. Sam put himself away sat in his seat.
Standing, I looked at him with a what the fuck look just in time for Garrison to open the door. I couldn’t speak. I was totally speechless.
“You okay?” Garrison asked, seeing my expression.
“Yeah,” I said, brushing past him. I didn’t wait around to see what he said to Sam. I imagine he gave him hell for the sudden turn, but didn’t care enough to wait around and see.
I stormed to the master suite bathroom. This was not the deal. I wasn’t paying him to drop a load in my mouth and not even take care of me. Bullshit. Asshole. My temper calmed a little when I raised my dress and dropped my panties. Sam’s handprints covered my bare ass and I loved it. It was the sickest, most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. I touched my ass, observing the heat from his hands through the mirror. I was too turned on to be pissed. Propping my foot all the way up to the sink, I rubbed my pussy, playing with it like it was a new toy. Spreading myself with my fingers, I flicked my swollen nub, back and forth with my finger while I watched in the mirror. I suddenly wanted to prolong it, wanted this sensation to last forever and ever. Pinching it like a mini penis, I jerked it off just like Sam had his cock.
“Kendra? You okay? Are you sick?”
Goddammit!
“No, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute,” I called in a breathy tone, keeping rhythm with my miniature hand job.
“You sure? You need me to get anything for you?”
“I’m sure, Garrison. Just let me take a shit in private.” That did it. He left without another word. I turned back to my pussy and spanked it with three fingers. Slap. Slap. Slap. Aahh. Yes. Those same three fingers rubbed frantically, bringing home the show. Continuing to rub my wet slit from my asshole to my clit, I calmed my breathing, relishing in my pleasure. My own pleasure, no thanks to my employee… Dick head.
After fixing my hair, splashing cool water on my face, and straightening my clothes, I walked out to Garrison, who was sitting on the bed. Great.
“Did you get sick?”
“A little,” I lied, sure he heard the moan I couldn’t keep in. “I feel better.”
“Good, I forgot to tell you Larry and Regan are here for the weekend. We’re going to meet them at a place in LA for dinner and cocktails.”
Crap. I should have feigned the sickness. “Okay, I’m going to get some air. You coming?”
“In a minute, I want to look at something first.”
I walked out and left him to his repetitious work. “I fucking hate your guts!” I mouthed, knocking on the window where ass-wipe Sam was. I was planning on walking past him right to the bow, but what he mouthed made me storm into him. The man was fucking crazy.
“I. Love. You.”
“Are you serious? What the hell, Sam?”
“What?” he asked, raising his hands.
“I love you? Really?”
“I didn’t say that. I said olive juice.”
“Oh my god. You’re a big fucking kid and I really do hate you,” I said, leaving with his lungs full of laughter. UGH.
I refused Sam’s hand when we finally made it back to shore. He smirked. Fucker. Garrison didn’t even notice my pissed off attitude. He was too busy talking on the phone, reading emails, listening to voicemails, and flipping through papers. He didn’t even hear me when I said I was going to take a bath.
I lit my candles and filled my tub with the same sandalwood and vanilla scent, trying to calm my fury. The nerve of that man. Who the hell did he think he was? Both of them. One of them sat downstairs, talking to whom the fuck knows, someone more important than me, and the other one was just a plain dick. I should have chosen Olivia.
Men sucked. All men sucked. All men could kiss my ass. I didn’t need men. I didn’t need any of this shit.
Dinner with the Tillman’s was a nightmare. Regan didn’t shut up about their three-year-old little girl. I looked at hundreds of photos of a kid that wasn’t even cute. Her eyes were too close together and beady looking. She looked like a bug, and I didn’t care about how she could sing her ABCs, or how smart she was. Of course, Regan had to ask right in front of Garrison about our own baby.
“Oh, yeah, you were seeing that fertility specialist. Was that this week, or next?” Garrison asked, not even remembering. It was today asshole. The lie about the doctor was today…
“Yes, I went yesterday. Same thing. He said keep doing what we’re doing,” I lied, fighting with everything in me not to roll my eyes.
Not only did I have to endure dinner with the snobs, I had to have cocktails after. And if that wasn’t enough, Garrison made me dance. Something was seriously wrong with me. Normally I would have loved to be that close to his crotch, conspicuously rubbing my breasts on him and trying to cop a feel of his smaller than Sam’s dick. Now, it just annoyed the hell out of me.
“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t been yourself since I got here. You’re very irritable. Is it time for your monthly?”
Oh my god. I was going to stab the man. I wanted to spin out of his formal
dance arms and scream to the top of my lungs… No. You fucking idiot. I don’t have those. I haven’t had those since I was twelve. All those tampons I buy and wrap in toilet paper are a hoax. You’re too smart and stupid to know that about me. You’re too fucking busy, chasing your next dollar to know anything about me.
“Maybe, I’m sorry. I guess I’m not feeling the best today. Can we go?”
“Well, we can’t be the ones to say that. You know Larry gives me a lot of work.”
“Yeah, sure, Garrison. Can we at least sit down?”
“As soon as this song is over.”
Finally, at eleven o’clock, the Tillman’s said goodbye. I was even more peeved than I was before. Adding too many glasses of wine that I didn’t pick, or even like to the mix only made things worse.
I was never so glad in my life to be in my bed. I breathed a deep sigh, wishing Garrison wasn’t coming to bed with me. I hated the nightgown that twisted around me when I slept. I hated the panties that were too constricting for my pussy to breathe the way it wanted.
I closed my eyes, thinking nothing about getting off for the first time in I didn’t know how long. I ignored Garrison crawling in beside me, and hoped he stayed all the way on the other side. It was a king-size bed, he had plenty of room to read his stupid law books way over there.
My eyes opened when I felt his body move to the top of mine, resting between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I asked, raising up.
“What are you doing?” he countered with a puzzled look. “Why do you still have your underwear on? It’s Friday.”
They’re panties, idiot. Yup. I could see a murder charge in my near future. I would have no one to represent me because he would be dead. I would live out my days behind bars, probably being manhandled by biker chicks. Hmmm. That alternative sounded better than this one.
Garrison shifted his weight to my side and nodded. “Take them off. I have a willy.”
Yes. Yes, you do Garrison. You have a schoolboy willy. You have no clue what a hard-on even is. I wanted to say so much. I wanted to be the bitch that I was feeling, but for whatever reason, I didn’t. I raised my hips and slid out of my panties. Garrison smiled and moved back between my legs.
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