“Will I?”
“Yes.”
“And why's that?” She flashed her pearly white teeth.
“Because it's an order.” I slid a greedy hand over the front of her body. “Perhaps I should give you another reason.”
She chuckled. “It'd better be good.”
I tucked my hips between her thighs and with one swift movement, I was inside her. She smiled up at me from the pillows. “Like that, do you?” I ran a hand over the sheets and took possession of her wrists.
“No comment.” Her childish grin spread wider.
“Don't want to say how much you want me? Then show me.”
“Is that an order?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I answered huskily.
With that I began slowly thrusting. I wanted it to be agonizing. I wanted her to beg for her orgasm. Nothing else would satisfy me. I had to hear her scream as fucked her. I wasn't sure I could come without hearing that scream anymore.
Her fists clenched as our bodies moved together. Steadily, her smile faded and her cheeks flushed.
Our gazes locked. “That's right. Feels good, doesn't it? Show me how much you love my cock.”
As my pace quickened, she brought her legs around my hips. Her cool, smooth heels rested in the small of my back.
Her gasps and cries grew louder until they turned animal in nature. Neither of us could breathe. We clung to each other. My free hand clutched her left tit. I dug my fingernails into the soft curve of them. I used it to hold her steady as I filled her repeatedly.
“I'm going to use you like this all weekend,” I threatened in between grunts.
“Yes … please … ” She heaved quick, deep breaths. “Please, use me.”
“You want to come, don't you, my little whore?”
“Y—yes, please allow me to come, sir.”
I slowed to a stop. “I don't think I believe you really want it.”
She licked her lips, and in her intoxication, dropped her head to the side. “Please,” she murmured. “Please let me. I promise I'll go. You can use my body all weekend.”
“Just like this?” I teased, sliding in an inch.
An almost undetectable sigh escaped her throat. “Any way you want, Master.”
“Oh, my little minx.” I leaned over and bit her earlobe, making her suck in a breath. “I'm going to fuck you raw.”
With that, I lost myself in the mechanical motion of lovemaking. There was no way I could hold back anymore. The room could be on fire, but as long as I could feel the silken grasp of her pussy, I'd keep fucking her.
I could have been going for hours for all I knew. The time got away, and yet each stroke was like it could have been my first.
“Come,” I growled in her ear. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
“Don't stop,” she begged. “Almost … there.”
Though I could have just as easily denied her orgasm and enjoyed my own, like I had for countless other women—including my wife—I didn't. I realized it wouldn't have been as good.
I waited on the precipice for her, incessant in my pursuit to finish her off.
“So good,” she whimpered. “... Fuck.”
As that word escaped her mouth, we both came. My toes curled and I threw my head back as I emptied into her. At the same time she gripped and pulsed wildly. My eyes stung as I rode the waves. I was sure I was going to pass out.
My muscles hadn't received the memo from my brain that the orgasm was over, because the sensation kept rolling through me.
After a few minutes, it ebbed and diffused into a pleasant all-over tingle.
My eyes opened one at a time. Dizzy and trembling, I looked down at her. A drop of sweat fell from my shoulder and onto her cheek. She was glowing and flushed.
I let go of her wrists and shakily propped myself up. The drop rolled down her cheek and into the pillow.
At that moment, something possessed me—the source of which I didn't know—to reach out and cup her face. I ran my thumb over her cheek, and before I knew it, I was kissing her with unchecked, reckless passion.
Her response was lukewarm, and a few seconds later, she broke away.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“You kissed me.” She said it like it was a complaint.
“I've kissed you lots of times.” I sat back in confusion.
“Not like that.” She yanked the top sheet up around her body as if I'd just struck her in anger.
“Like what?”
“Just go.”
“Chastity … ”
“Jack!” she shouted. “Go! Now!”
I was baffled at her expression. She almost looked afraid!
“Fine. You don't have to yell.” Completely unaware of what I'd done, I got up and began pulling on my clothes. The smell of sex still clung to the air as I turned my back on her and buttoned my shirt.
She was quiet as she lit up another cigarette. “I didn't mean to yell,” she said quietly. “I was just done.”
“Then just say you're fucking done,” I snapped. “If you don't want me kissing you, then fucking tell me beforehand!” I belted. “I shouldn't be surprised a little tenderness would upset you,” I said with a sneer.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She was cool as a cucumber, but I couldn't be.
“Just what I said.” I jammed my feet into my shoes. “You're a heartless whore who likes to use people like me!”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” she mocked. “How dare you throw those words in my face, Jack Duncan … you of all people?”
She was right. Of course she was, but I wasn't about to let her know it.
I threw my coat over my arm. “In the future, I expect you to tell me if you don't want something. You fucking tell me. Is that understood?” I glared at her over my shoulder. “Unless this little exhibition means you don't want to see me anymore.” When she didn't answer, I went to the door. “Fine. Have it your way.”
I stormed out and slammed the door. Everyone else had already gone home. I checked my phone for the time. It was almost two in the morning.
“What a waste of my time,” I grumbled. “All this time … ”
All this time, what? What the fuck was that kiss? What did that even mean? Why was it so infuriating when she backed away? Why did I want to kiss her like that? Where the hell did it come from?
I checked the lounge for Emily and Drake but didn't see them.
The bartender was slipping on his coat and turning off the bar signs.
I marched up to the counter. “Where is she?”
The bartender pursed his lips.
Fucking asshole.
“Who?” he asked.
“My wife. The woman I came here with.”
He painted on a plastic smile. “Unfortunately, I don't think I got a good look at her.”
“She was with Drake.”
“Ah, then you'll want to ask Drake where she is. He's in the dressing room.” The bartender nodded to me. “Goodnight.”
Without replying to him, I stomped over to the dressing room and banged my fist on the door.
(Drake)
I was startled awake by a banging on the door.
Emily stirred in my arms.
Bang—bang—bang!
“Just a minute!” I answered. Leaning over, I gently rubbed Emily's shoulder.
“Hm?” she moaned.
“Your husband's here. I think he wants to go home,” I said. My heart hurt to send her away. She was sleeping so peacefully and we were both so comfortable. “Get up, honey.”
“Husband?” she asked, her soft fingertips raked my chest lightly.
“Yeah. He's here.”
Suddenly, Jack burst through the door! “Oh this is nice!”
Emily's eyes flew open. She sat up like a private who'd slept in and was about the face the wrath of her drill sergeant.
Jack stormed over, took her by the forearm and yanked her out of bed. “Get up. We're leaving.”
I co
uld tell he was furious over something, though I had no idea what.
“Hey! Get off her!” I said, slapping his hand away. “Get out! She'll be with you in a minute. Let her get dressed.”
“Fucking him …. That's what you've been doing.” He virtually spit his ire on her cheek with those broken sentences.
“You told me to,” she cried. “I don't understand why you're mad.” Her eyes glistened.
Now my patience was being tried. “Calm the hell down! Whatever you're angry about has nothing to do with Emily. Don't take it out on her,” I said, struggling to keep my control.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want with her. She's mine, Drake. Got that? Mine. And there's not a goddamn fucking thing you can do about it!”
Emily scampered out of bed, but Jack caught her wrists and yanked her back against him, so I could see the terror and confusion on her face.
At this point, he was seething, yet he found a way to grin maniacally. “Say goodbye to her, cause if I can help it, you'll never get to touch your little fucktoy ever again.”
“She's not a fucktoy!” I shouted, getting up out of the bed. “She's a person!”
“She's a thing—an object—just like every other woman in this world! All she's good for is taking cock. Tell me, did she do a good job tonight? Huh? Did you have fun filling her with come?”
Emily broke away and a loud slap echoed through the room.
A giant, nasty hand-print was left behind on Jack's cheek. She'd hit him so hard, his head turned.
She recoiled her hand and stumbled back. She covered her mouth in abject horror and disbelief at what she'd just done. “I—I'm sorry.”
Jack swirled the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He pressed a hand to the handprint. “Emily. Get your clothes on. We're going home.” His anger simmered under the surface.
“J—Jack, I—”
“If you're not ready in five minutes, I'm leaving without you.” He turned and left the room.
I shut the door after him and locked it. Immediately, I went back to her, setting my hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“What's wrong with him?”
“Not enough,” I growled.
“Why is he so … angry?”
“I have no idea. Something must have happened with Chastity.” I was sure I'd hear about it later.
The sound of a door closing echoed through the lounge.
“Whatever it was, it must have been serious. I've never seen him that mad. Ever.”
I spun her slowly and saw she'd started crying, but it was a silent, sobless weeping. It was obvious she'd felt the brunt of his anger, yet it hadn't fully sunken in yet.
“Nothing gives him the right to treat you that way. You have every right to press charges.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked at the collection of droplets on her wrist as if they were alien objects. “Is it strange that I don't want to?”
“Uh. Yeah!” I shook my head. “Why are you protecting him?”
“I don't think he meant to hurt me. If he had, I think he would have hit me back. Don't you?”
My mouth fell open. “No! I think what he did was enough! I'm calling the police.” I let go of her and went for my pants.
“No! Drake, please don't.” Her hand landed softly on my arm. “I think his feelings are hurt.”
I eyed her quizzically. “I'm sorry. Did you say feelings? That guy doesn't have feelings.”
“He does.” She nodded. “Please. Let me handle this. I know him.”
“The only reason I'm not making sure that guy gets thrown in prison tonight is because I trust your word.”
“Emily!” Jack's voice echoed through the lounge.
“I'd better go,” she said sadly, grabbing her dress from the floor and throwing it on.
“Not yet.” I picked up her purse and dug out her cellphone. “You're not leaving here without my number.” I punched it into her contacts as she finished dressing. “There.”
She smiled as I handed her the phone. “I'm not sure I'll use it.”
“Use it. Please, use it,” I begged. “If he lays a single fingertip on you that you don't want, you call me right away. Got it?” She giggled, but I didn't have the heart to join in her mirth. “I'm serious, Emily. Please, promise me.”
She reached up and softly stroked my cheekbone. “You're so sweet.”
I turned my head and kissed the inside of her hand. “Don't change the subject.”
“I promise.”
“And text me when you get home, so I know you're safe.”
She chuckled. “Okay.”
“One minute!” Jack's voice called out.
She heaved a sigh. “I have to go.” Quickly, she went to the door.
“I want to see you again.”
She turned and smiled, her cheeks flushed. “I think we will. Soon.”
With that, she was gone.
And all I could do was worry.
I dropped onto the bed we'd disarranged with our lovemaking. Silently, I prayed nothing would happen to her at the hands of that asshole. If I trusted her less, I wouldn't have let her go home with him. I'd have … What would I have done?
“You look like a kid who's had all his candy taken away.” Chastity leaned against the doorpost.
“What did you do to that man?”
“Nothing. He was just being a big baby,” she said flippantly. “You ready to go?”
“He came in here raging like the damn devil. You did something.”
She sulked. “Help me understand this: he was pissed off, so somehow it's my fault?”
I looked at her with incredulity. “What happened?”
“It's not a big deal.”
“Chastity, he was nigh on hysterical.”
“Was he?” She grinned.
“It's not fucking funny!”
“Hey! Okay! No need to get snappy!” she exclaimed defensively.
“Tell me.”
“He kissed me.”
“So?” I prodded. “Hasn't he ever kissed you before?”
“Not like that.” She sighed. “This was different. He … ”
“Spit it out,” I demanded.
“He kissed me like you used to.”
I sat back against the wall. “I see.” I licked my chapped lips. “Did you break up with him?”
“Sort of.”
“No wonder he was pissed.”
“He doesn't have any right to be pissed. He doesn't own me. We don't owe each other anything.”
“I wouldn't expect you to understand what he's going through. Unfortunately, I do.” I crossed the room to get my pants.
“I can't understand. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. You know that.” She fished her pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and began lighting one up.
“You said you sort of broke up with him. What does sort of mean?”
She blew out a lungful of smoke. “I told him to get out. He thought that meant get out forever, I guess.”
“Well didn't it?”
She considered the question for a moment. “Not necessarily.”
“Chastity, you can't keep doing this.”
“Who are you now, my fucking dad?”
“God knows you could have used one.”
“That's low.” She shook her head, her cheek ticking in annoyance.
I sighed. “I'm sorry. I just don't like the way he handled Emily. And if you'd broken up with him in the right way, he wouldn't have done that.”
“I'm not responsible for his actions. He is. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him.” She spun on her heels and marched off.
I pulled on my t-shirt, then my boots, and left my belt clasp for last. I was less worried about her now that I knew Chastity had only half broken up with him. That meant all she had to do was drop him a text message and his mood would probably improve.
If she could smooth things over with Jack, chances were, I'd be able to see Emily again.
Sweet Emily.
(Jack)
My cheek stung as I slid into the driver's seat of the Porsche. I spent a moment staring at the asphalt in front of the car.
She sat in the passenger's seat without saying a word.
“You are never to see him again,” I said calmly.
When she didn't reply, I took that to mean she understood and would obey.
“What happened with that girl?” I asked.
I started the car. “None of your business.”
“I'm your wife, Jack. It's all of my business when your feelings are hurt.”
“My feelings aren't hurt!” My voice rang in the car's cabin. I cleared my throat. “My feelings aren't hurt.”
“Okay,” Emily said solemnly. “If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here.”
“I don't.” I put the car in drive. “I never want to talk about it again. This is over, and that's the end of it. Understand?”
“Yes, Jack. I understand.”
The Retreat
A Week Later
(Emily)
I'd never been very good at socializing. At the museum opening, I'd tried to be charming. I stayed beside Jack and smiled when I was told, did as I was told, and met the people he instructed me to meet. Jack had thanked me at the end of the night, but it'd been evident that he hated the whole business.
Sometimes I wondered whether he knew what he'd gotten himself into. It was true, that at the center of his being, Jack was the type to seek power. But I didn't think he'd taken into consideration that part of a politician's job was to serve others. He never served anyone. Yet he continued down the path he'd started on and seemed to grow increasingly more stressed about his choice.
What was left to be seen was if the work was worth it.
Until then, I supposed he would continue to coddle his voters and campaign contributors. I knew the weekend company retreat was not just for his employees, but for his constituents, too. If the opening had been any indicator of my responsibilities, I was going to find the gathering taxing.
I prepared myself mentally while I packed. Dante was gracious enough to carry my things outside while I said goodbye to Katherine. During our absence, Donna was staying at the house. Jack thought that playing a politician's wife and mom at the same time would have proven too much for me. Though I'd miss my little girl, I was glad for the relief. He wanted me to focus, and I wanted him to be happy.
Traded for Love Page 25