by Nadia Lee
All I have to do is let go, and the mind-shattering orgasm will engulf me. And I want to come; my body is primed and ready for it. But I’m not ready to let go yet.
I tug at his hair and pull him back. He resists, but when I exert more force, he lets go with a final lick on my clit. I hiss, then shudder as the cool air brushes my wet, heated core.
“What’s wrong?” His mouth glistens with my slickness, and he gives me a small frown.
“Take off your clothes.” I want him as bare as I am. “I want it face-to-face, with you inside me.”
He slowly rises to his feet, kicks off his shoes and sheds his clothes, his movements economical and efficient. Every undone button reveals another inch of lean, functional muscle. His frame is perfect, his shoulders exceptionally broad and his waist and hips lean and narrow. The ridges on his stomach are so defined, I can see why bodybuilders call them “cheese grater abs”. Finally his cock springs free, its glistening head at twelve o’clock high. I lick my lips. The man is simply stunning. No, not just stunning but irresistible, full of magnetism and power.
A sliver of doubt slips into my mind. How can I make him see I’m not her? He doesn’t care about me. He is stronger than I am, worldlier…and certainly more jaded. What am I doing, really?
Then I remember how he cared about my pleasure. He has never once been selfish in bed or hurt me. Surely that confers some power, no matter how small.
Once he’s naked, he studies me. I know my face is flushed with need. I may be able to hold myself back from going over, but I’m not good enough to hide how much I want him.
We’re close enough that I can feel the heat pouring from him, but we aren’t touching. He cups my face and kisses me, his eyes fluttering then closing.
My hands wrap around his strong wrists, and I let the pleasure of the kiss carry me away. My body’s so primed from the two near-orgasms that I ache with the piercing need, but I don’t want to rush this and ruin it.
His breath fans my face, and I devour his mouth, deepening our connection. I vaguely feel him moving me toward the bed, and I go with it, my body languid and hot.
He kneads a breast in one large, skilled hand. His thumb brushes over the pointed peak, and I moan deep in my throat.
My world tilts as he deposits me in the middle of the huge king-size bed. He lets go of my mouth and kisses my nipple, flicking his tongue over the sensitive tip. My back arches, and he laughs in wicked satisfaction. He pulls the rest of it in and sucks hard, his cheeks hollowing. His hand plays with my free nipple as he settles between my spread legs, his mouth hot on my neck. His thick cock rubs against my clit, stimulating me until I’m coiled so tightly I feel like I’m going to break at any moment.
But he doesn’t increase his tempo. He keeps it just below what I need to be able to orgasm. He torments me with his hands and mouth as though he’s punishing me for withholding my climax earlier, like he wants to show I’m not the only one who can hold back. By the time he’s through, it’s all I can do to grip the sheet underneath me and not lose my sanity. Sweat slickens my heated skin, and my sex throbs until it almost hurts.
“Please,” I beg.
“Please what? What do you want me to do?”
“Put your cock inside me,” I say.
Lust blazes in his eyes. He rewards my frankness by sheathing himself with a condom, then pushing into me slowly…halfway.
It’s not enough. “All the way,” I whisper, a hand on his stubble-rough cheek. “Hard. I want to see your face when you fuck me. I want you to see my face when you come inside me.”
“Fuck, yes.”
He starts, driving in and out of me with enough force to rattle the bed. I’m so swollen and wet; he feels enormous inside but the friction is too delicious to matter. His eyes are on me, and mine are on his. The first flickers of pleasure start in my lower belly, and I can’t draw in air. He breathes like he’s running a marathon, then tilts his pelvis, changing the angle and hitting my sweet spot.
I convulse as I detonate with a white-hot orgasm. My vision turns hazy with ecstasy, but I sense Elliot surrounding me, moving within me. He thrusts with a force that jars my bones, his entire body going rigid. A groan tears from his tight throat…and then his forehead is resting on mine.
I breathe in his heady male scent, my body boneless and languid. I feel light, the heaviness from last night completely gone.
“God…” He moans when he can draw in some air. He wraps his arms around me and rolls over, dragging me with him. He presses a kiss on my mouth. “That was amazing, beautiful.”
The euphoria vanishes, and I shiver, this time with cold. Even now I’m just “beautiful” to him.
I thought maybe we’d crossed an important milestone…reached an understanding. How can he drive into me like that with his eyes on my face and still can’t make the connection that I’m not that Annabelle?
* * *
Elliot
Something’s shifted. My wife is stiff now, all the sweet lazy afterglow suddenly gone. I can’t think of what it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s something I did because she was fine until…
Is it me calling her “beautiful”?
“Hey…” I whisper, my thumbs brush the tears beading in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t.”
She turns her head away. “I’m fine.”
She speaks in the same way my mouth autocorrects what I really want to say because it’s easier to say “fine” than the truth and most people aren’t all that interested in the complicated reality. “No, you’re not.”
She sniffles once, then faces me, her eyebrows raised. “You know how I feel better than I do? Why did you bother to ask then?”
“Because…” I bite back a curse. I want to fix it, but I know I’m the center of the problem. “Come on. Let’s take a nap. Neither of us slept well last night, I imagine.” I need the tactile reassurance of holding her in my arms. Even though I just had her, can feel her in my arms now, the fear that she’s going to vanish cuts through me like a knife.
She shakes her head. “You go ahead. I need to check up on Nonny.” She pulls away, her head held high.
I tense, ready to lunge and grab her. My mind abruptly flashes to last night. I had my hand around her wrist, and she told me I was hurting her. And that pulls another memory—that of Annabelle Underhill’s bruised arm.
I press the heels of my palms against my eyes. My wife is moving quietly, her bare feet barely making any noise. But I sense it the moment she leaves the bedroom. That vibrant charge is gone, and my skin no longer prickles with awareness. Suddenly the air seems colder.
My lips part as I let out a sigh. I’ve screwed up. I’m smart enough to know that. I’m also smart enough to know that if it hadn’t been for the need to provide for her sister, she would never have accepted my proposition.
A chill slithers over my skin, making me shiver. When I first made her the offer, I was content with our deal. Money for the pleasure of her body. But now I’m craving more. I want her smile, her nearness.
But money won’t be enough for either, and I don’t know that I have anything to offer except making her come until she sees stars. Looking at the cool emptiness next to me in bed, it’s clear that that, too, is woefully insufficient.
Chapter Three
Annabelle
Thankfully Nonny recovers from her spiked punch without any problem. She’s young, resilient, and I should’ve known she’d be fine…even if I myself couldn’t stay calm. I notice signs that she hasn’t been sleeping well, but that most likely has nothing to do with the alcohol. Nonny sometimes suffers from insomnia when she’s fretting about something, and my guess is that she’s unhappy about not really meeting Ryder Reed. She leaves for school on Monday after giving me a tight hug. She loves the new school and her new classmates. The kids are cool—much more inclusive—and it’s a huge relief that she’s fitting in. One less thing I need to worry about.
Elliot is in his office, probably on some massively impo
rtant business call. I let out a shaky breath. My inner muscles are sore. He and I haven’t been talking since that morning sex, but he comes to me every night and takes me with almost violent single-mindedness until I come over and over again and my head is empty of everything except the pleasure flooding my body. Just thinking about it makes me clench, and not only with heat. There’s something more.
Earlier this morning, he buried his face between my legs and gave me four toe-curling orgasms before taking his pleasure from my boneless body. The kiss he gave me afterward was so tender, the backs of his fingers brushing against my cheek with such sweet reverence, tears prickled my eyes as my heart ached.
But even as I crave the way he makes me feel, a small part of me is cold with apprehension. It’s as though he knows I’m trying to rebuild the wall around myself, and he’s doing everything in his power to stop me.
We both signed the contract. It is only two pages long, and we both understood what we were getting. So why do I have a feeling that neither of us wants what we originally agreed to?
It’s too early for me to leave for my meeting with Dennis. I look over the calendar. I need to redo the dinner. It’s Elliot’s and my first event as a couple, and I want it to go well…even if it will be for the second time. And this time, Tiffany will not be invited. Maybe I’m being harsh, but I just can’t bring her back here. She didn’t look the slightest bit sorry when she left. She was more upset about me asking her to leave than the fact that Nonny had passed out.
The second time is just as overwhelming as the first. I can’t recycle the menu or invitations from before, which means I have to come up with something new. I just don’t have the experience for something like this, and I don’t want to bother Elliot.
I scroll through the contact list on my phone. Josephine Martinez is a fashion person, and I doubt she’d know or have the time. She’s probably busy spending some of her clients’ money at a fancy boutique, turning another drab girl into a fairy tale princess. My former best friend Traci Burton… She might’ve gotten over my father’s role in destroying her family’s finances, but she probably wouldn’t answer my call. Even if she did, she knows about as much about high society dinner planning as I do.
My gaze lands on Elizabeth. I got her number earlier when she texted me her RSVP to the original dinner. She would definitely know everything, but it seems a bit presumptuous to call her. Although she’s always been kind to me and Nonny, I don’t really know her that well. On the other hand, I owe her an apology for the way I lost it at the previous dinner.
Before I can stop myself, I dial her number. As the phone rings, I bite my lower lip.
What am I doing? Elizabeth is only kind because that’s expected, not because she likes me. She probably thinks badly of me now after that scene.
I hit the red button before she picks up.
My phone rings a minute later. I close my eyes briefly. It’s Elizabeth, and of course I can’t ignore her call without being a jerk. “Hello?”
“Hi, Gigi. This is Elizabeth. Did you call? I’m sorry I missed it.”
“Um, yeah…” I clear my throat. “Sorry. I was trying to call someone else, but I pressed the wrong button.”
A short silence. “I see. Listen, I’m in downtown. Do you have time for coffee?”
“Now?” I almost squeak.
“Or later today. Either way.”
“Uh…okay. Sure. Where?”
She gives me the location. “Does that work for you?”
“Yes.” It isn’t that far from OWM. “I have an appointment at ten. So can we meet afterward? Maybe between ten thirty and eleven?”
“Sounds great. And take your time. I’ll be resting my feet up. Gotta get some serious shopping done this afternoon.”
“Okay.”
Exhaling roughly, I stare at my phone. I can’t believe I just agreed to meet with Elizabeth. And it sounds like she actually wants to see me as well. What does she want to talk about?
I almost jerk when my phone beeps, letting me know I have forty-five minutes till my appointment with Dennis. Ugh. Now I have to hurry or I’ll be late.
I rush to the walk-in closet to look for something I can wear. Not pink—Elliot told me that was more Elizabeth’s style, and I don’t want to look like I’m competing with her. Maybe the cerulean dress? It’s cute, with spaghetti straps, a fitted bodice and flaring skirt.
Damn. I don’t have time to dawdle. I put it on and pull my hair back into a messy ponytail and run a little lip gloss over my mouth. That should be good enough. Even though Elliot isn’t exactly a celebrity, he does get some media attention because of his relationship to Ryder. I don’t want to cause him any embarrassment, especially when he’s spent so much money to ensure I look the part. After slipping my feet into a pair of sandals, I drive to OWM using the GPS.
The Starbucks is easy to find, thank god. I’m running ten minutes late. It’s not super crowded, and I see Dennis at a booth in the back.
I grab an iced coffee and join him.
He has the complexion of an office worker who never gets any time off. Even so, it seems odd that he’s so pale. He’s gotta walk outside from time to time and gets some sun. This is L.A. after all. The whiteness of his skin makes his gray eyes look darker than they really are. His short sandy hair sits flat on his round head, and the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt reveal the smooth arms of a sedentary person.
Things have changed so much for him. Back when we were both in Lincoln City, he was a high school athlete. A baseball player, arrogant and cocky, although he wasn’t very good. But his father paid for the team’s equipment. I’m sure he knew that, but he never let it get in the way of trying to act like a popular jock.
I sit down across from him and wait, sipping my coffee. I don’t know where to start. I’m sure he has something to say, after all those angry texts. And frankly I’d rather have him begin.
He takes me in, fingers making little quarter-circles with his coffee cup. It isn’t long before he leans across the table. “You look good.”
It’s an overture of a sort. Dennis can be hot-headed and impetuous at times, but he’s not inherently a bad guy.
“Thank you.” I wish I could say the same, but I can’t bring myself to lie. We’d both know anyway. Shared history. “I guess things have gone well for you to be working at OWM. You seem to have a good boss.”
“Yeah, Pete’s okay. I like him, and I think he’ll help me get a permanent position at the firm…so long as I don’t screw up.”
“Well, great.” I pause, suddenly feeling awkward. I sip my coffee to buy a little time. No matter how uncomfortable this is, I should remember that none of what happened between our parents is his fault. “I’m glad you found something you like doing, Dennis.”
“Really?” His lips slant in an unpleasant line. “Then you have to make your husband back off.”
“Back off? What are you talking about?”
“You told him about me, didn’t you?”
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t told him anything.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Believe what you like, but I didn’t say anything to Elliot.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His hand wraps around my wrist.
I look at him, then deliberately take a long meaningful look around at the café full of people. “Let me go, right now.” He hangs on for one extra moment, then releases me. “I’m not playing twenty questions here, Dennis. If you don’t tell me what the problem is, I’m walking out.”
The muscles in his jaw clench. “I heard from a source in HR that they’re running a second background check on me.”
“So?”
He lowers his voice. “There’s no reason for another one.”
“Maybe they’re trying to hire you on permanently. Didn’t you say your boss would help you?”
“Yeah, but they already checked me out. They’re doing it again…on Gavin’s orders.”
I frown. The n
ame seems vaguely familiar. “Gavin?”
“Gavin Lloyd. The head honcho. The billionaire. Why would he take a personal interest in someone like me?”
Ah. Now I remember. Elliot mentioned him briefly before we went to OWM to set up my account. “Okay, but why does this have anything to do with me or Elliot?”
Dennis snorts. “Come on, Annabelle. You have every reason to want to fuck me over.”
“Is that what you think? Dennis, I left Lincoln City because I wanted to start over. And even if I did have something against you, I don’t have that kind of influence over my husband. And Elliot has no reason to want to cause you any trouble.”
“I know he doesn’t like me. I don’t have to be a genius to know he’s the one who prompted Gavin to check me out again.”
“So what if he was? You passed the first time. Don’t tell me you did anything between then and now.”
Dennis breathes out roughly then studies his tumbler. “I didn’t tell them about who I really am.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They don’t know about my dad. I couldn’t let them know. It’s financial services. They would’ve never hired me with that kind of taint.”
“Dennis.” I hadn’t realized that when he decided to get a new name and start fresh, he also meant to rewrite his past.
“You owe me, Annabelle. It isn’t right that only you and your sister came out of it okay, not me. I don’t have a sugar momma as my backup plan.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I say. “Your father—”
“He lost everything because of your dad!” he hisses. “He was a good man, respected by everyone. Your dad targeted mine. And it was specifically because, with my dad by his side, it would be easier to con everybody. The only thing my dad did wrong was trust the wrong person!”
An old pain pours through me like poison. It’s something so foul, so ugly that I try my best not to think about it. “And my parents got gunned down for that.”
“You think that makes us even?” Bitterness burns in Dennis’s eyes. “My dad died too. So did Mom. She went fucking insane and OD’d on sleeping pills.”