The Client: Short And Steamy

by Parker, M. S.

  His hand fisted in my hair, tugging me upright until my spine was arched at a near impossible angle. I didn’t care. In fact, the pain set off a new set of fireworks inside me. He settled into a slower rhythm now, and I had no choice but to take it – take him – or let him take me. Impaled on his cock, I moaned and twisted, seeking the release that was just out of reach.

  “For someone who isn't a witch, you sure cast one hell of a spell,” he said, fingers flexing on my waist.

  Then he swiveled his hips, reaching around and down with his free hand. His fingers sought out my aching clit, and I jolted, first in shock, then in delicious satisfaction as his touch set off the most explosive climax of my life. I clenched around him and heard him curse.

  His hips jerked against me, losing his rhythm as he slammed into me twice more, each stroke sending another burst of pleasure through me. Then he stiffened, his cock pulsing inside me as he came. His fingers pressed even harder against my clit and I cried out, my arms giving out on me as a second orgasm crashed into me even harder than the first.

  Face down on the bed, as my high ebbed, I tried to level out my breathing because I was pretty sure no oxygen was making it to my head. And I needed oxygen because I had to think. I was almost certain I’d done the stupidest thing of my life, and I had to figure out what to do.

  But I was still having trouble with that breathing thing.

  I needed to get up.

  If I got up and moved, I’d put some distance between Paxton and me, and then thinking would probably come easier. Then I could maybe figure out what to do next.

  Before I could do that, though, he moved.

  Was he going back to his room?

  I figured out the answer pretty fast. The bathroom. He’d go back to his room now, though. Then I could think. That was a good thing –

  Hard hands rolled me over.

  He came down on top of me and smoothed my tumbled hair back. “Again,” he said.

  No, he demanded.

  That was all. Then he was inside me again, and I was clinging to him as he started to drive us both toward climax again.

  Thinking was sometimes really overrated.

  * * *

  I didn't know what time it was when he stirred, but it had finally stopped raining. We'd both dozed after the second – or had it been the third round? I wasn't entirely sure of anything other than the fact that I'd come more times than I ever had before.

  Muscles inside my body ached and pulled in the sweetest way, and if it hadn't been for the doubts – and a different sort of ache that was starting to settle in my heart – I could have been quite happy.

  But when he rolled out of bed, I wanted to curl up on myself and wish the rest of the world away.

  He bent over me and I looked up at him as he kissed my cheek. He didn't say anything and was gone a moment later.

  After the door closed behind him, I brought my legs up to my chest and reached for the pillow.

  I’d been wrong. It wasn’t any easier to think with him gone. It wasn’t any easier at all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Paxton

  Out in the hallway, I grabbed the towel I’d dropped.

  I saw the water on the floor and swore, cleaning up the mess before picking up the bottle and striding back toward the room where I’d been sleeping for the past month.

  Brinke’s stamp was all over the master bedroom, and I’d gotten tired of her stumbling in, drunk out of her mind or high, often both. Her waking me up and dealing with all that shit had been bad enough, but it was more than that. I worried one morning I’d wake up to find her dead of an overdose, right there in the bed next to me.

  Now, at least, I had something else to brood about.

  Leslie.

  Finally alone in my room, I slammed the door and hurled the water bottle across it. “How could you be so stupid?”

  There wasn’t any answer, but I hadn’t expected one. I walked over to the bed and dropped down, flinging an arm over my eyes. If I was hoping to block out any memory of the past few hours, then I was out of luck. I could smell her on my skin, taste her. She'd tasted so fucking amazing, and watching her come apart on my tongue had almost been as good as feeling her around my cock.

  Son of a bitch.

  What in the hell had I been thinking?

  My cock pulsed against my belly, and I slid my hand down, fisted my still aching dick. I had the answer to my problem right there – in hand, even. Sometimes men really did think with their cocks. I’d wanted her pretty much from the second I saw her, and after spending a whole day with her, I realized I didn’t just want her – I liked her.

  I’d forgotten what it was like, to actually be attracted to a woman and like her. To not just want to fuck someone, but to want to spend time with her.

  There was plenty there to like, too, and not just those long legs or big green eyes. She was smart and sexy and funny and sweet. I had a feeling she’d get pissed off by the sweet thing, but she was.

  Rolling onto my belly, I snagged a pillow and closed my eyes.

  “It’s over,” I told myself. “Over and done with.”

  Another thought hit me not even a second later.

  What in the hell was I going to do if she decided I needed to find another lawyer?

  * * *

  The coffee in front of me had gone lukewarm. My head was fogged with fatigue, but I knew how to operate when I was running on empty. Shit, I could be past empty and still function. Who said you couldn’t learn survival skills when you were an addict?

  “Recovering addict,” I muttered. Pressing the heel of my hand to my right eye socket, I tried to will the headache away, but that wasn’t going to happen. I might have gotten thirty minutes of sleep once I’d left Leslie’s room.

  While I’d been with her, I’d slept pretty damn good – when I hadn’t been busy gorging on the taste and feel of her. She'd calmed me in a way nothing had. Ever.

  Now, though, I was just waiting for her to walk in here, and tell me I’d have to find somebody else to handle the divorce. I wasn’t looking forward to that, but with every hour that passed, I’d grown more and more convinced she’d decide we should part ways.

  It was my fault. Well, not entirely. I'd given her the chance to say no. But I’d been dreading finding a lawyer to begin with, then I found one who wasn’t bad at all, one who would fight for me. What happened if the next one was all the bad shit I’d expected to find the first time around?

  It was my own dumb fault.

  I should have told Carter that Leslie couldn't come with us. Hell, I shouldn't have even asked her to come meet my daughter to begin with.

  I was so busy brooding that I didn’t hear her come in, and when she slid onto the stool across from me, I almost came out of my seat.

  “What the – shit.” Laughing tiredly, I picked up my coffee and bolted it back. Cold or not, the need for caffeine was now urgent. Getting up, I went to the coffee pot and poured more. “You want a cup?”

  “Please.” Her voice was cautiously polite.

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I paused for a moment before reaching up to grab her a cup. After pouring her some coffee, I turned back and went to the island, stopping at the end of it, a few inches away from her. Close enough that I could touch. And if she was going to tell me to get another lawyer, I was damn well going to try to touch again.

  “Listen, Leslie…about last night…”

  “It’s okay, Paxton. We’re both adults.” She reached over and took the coffee from me, lifting it to her lips. She took a quick sip, then lowered it. She shrugged and smiled. “I doubt it’s the first time either of us have had a one-night stand. Everything’s fine.”

  One-night stand.

  The words settled wrong, although I didn’t understand why. I should've been relieved. She wasn't angry or hurt. She wasn't acting like we were going to get married after just a single night, no matter how mind-blowing.

  “So…” I blew out a breath. Trying to st
all while I gathered the courage to ask the question, I took a sip of coffee and then put the cup down. “Are you still planning on handling my divorce?”

  “Yes. I can separate the two. This…the past twenty-four hours were a fluke. A personal thing. The divorce is a professional – and separate – matter. If you’re comfortable with it, I am.”

  A fluke. Unable to stop myself, I slid my eyes down to study her mouth, remembering the feel of it, the taste. I should've just let it go, but I could still feel the connection between the two of us.

  “I’m not sure I could say I’m…comfortable, but I don’t want another lawyer.” I gave her a flirtatious smile to judge how she would take it.

  “Okay.” She slid off the stool exactly when I reached out to brush her hair back.

  Her lashes fluttered, and her cheeks flushed.

  Damn. She felt it too.

  “I’m really not comfortable.” I cast a meaningful glance down.

  “You…” Her mouth twisted as if she didn't like what she'd intended to say. “You know what? Neither am I.”

  A moment later, she was in my arms, and I boosted her back up onto the stool. She was tall and curvy, so different from anyone else I'd dated.

  “I want you naked. Now,” I said against her mouth.

  She laughed and the sound was like whiskey and silk. A sweet torture, the kind I could get drunk on.

  I reached for the waistband of her pants, then stopped.

  “Shit.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened, body stiffening.

  “Carter…she…I doubt she’ll wake, but I…” Looking around, I swung Leslie up into my arms. Judging by the expression on her face, that wasn't something she that happened a lot. A few minutes later, we were inside the bedroom where I’d been sleeping. I put her down by the door. “Stay.”

  “You’re bossy.” There was no malice in her words.

  A seductive smile curled her lips, and I was tempted to kiss it off. I would, too, after I got a damn condom.

  In less than a minute, I was gloved up and kissing her again. Fighting with her pants, I jerked them down to her hips and then pulled back. Dammit! I turned us both and then spun her so that she was facing the table just inside the door.

  “Bend over.”

  “My…I need to take my pants off.”

  I nudged her down, pressing my hand to her upper back. It didn't seem possible that I could want her so badly after I'd had her so many times last night, but I was so hard that it hurt.

  “Just bend over, Les. I want inside – now.”

  She whimpered and obeyed. The sight of her sweet, lush ass lifting for me had my cock jerking almost painfully. I ran my finger across her to find her wet enough that I could take her without hurting her. That was all I needed to know.

  I pushed inside her slowly, shuddering as she closed, hot and snug, around every inch of me. I wanted to feel all of her, without the condom, feel the honey-wet silk of her cunt. I wanted to lick her dry, then make her wet all over again. I wanted to take her so slowly that she begged me to let her come.

  I withdrew, and then thrust back inside, hard, tearing a cry from her lips.

  “Shhh…” I reached up and covered her mouth with one hand, using the other to steady her hips.

  Her teeth sank into my palm as I sank into her.

  I growled, and without thinking, I brought my hand down on the curve of her ass. “Bite me again, baby.”

  She did, and heat rushed through me. Impossibly, I got even harder. She wiggled her ass and I swatted her again, sweat forming on my temple and starting to drip down as I pumped into her harder and faster. But it wasn't enough.

  Mindless, I freed her mouth to grip her hips with both hands and thrust deep, pounding into her as something deep and primal coursed through us. The sound of our flesh coming together filled the room as she pushed back against me, just as eager as I was. The thought that she needed me as much as I needed her was heady.

  She came only a breath before I did, and the sound of her low, raw moan was the best damn music I’d heard in a long time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Leslie

  When I’d woken up, I told myself that I’d talk to Paxton, and tell him that it would be best if he found another lawyer. I could make several recommendations.

  But then I’d seen him sitting in the kitchen, and knew I wouldn’t.

  I was starting to understand his wife to some extent, even though I’d never met her. She was an addict. There was something she craved, thought she couldn’t live without. Drugs and booze were her weakness.

  Paxton was becoming mine.

  I’d slept with another woman’s husband. Yes, they were shortly going to be divorced, but that wasn’t the point. I'd never slept with a married man before.

  And I’d slept with a client.

  More than once.

  Paxton’s hand smoothed over my hip before he curled his arm around my waist, dragging me upright even while he was still inside me. Lips pressing to my ear, he said, “I’m still not comfortable. Are you?”

  He surprised a laugh out of me. “I’m not sure. But…Carter?”

  “I’ll go check. Be naked when I come back.”

  “Bossy,” I teased.

  In response, he bit my earlobe and sent a bolt of arousal through me.

  He was gone a moment later, and I sighed, reaching up to tug my cami off. It was already looking worse for wear. My panties had been a victim of the night before. My capris were tangled mid-thigh, and I pushed them down, stepping out before looking around the bedroom. Before I had the chance to form any kind of impression, the door swung open and he came back in.

  “She’s still sleeping. Probably have another hour as late as we were out.”

  He strode past me, and I watched as he went straight to the bedside table. I couldn’t help but remember that was the same place condoms were kept in the guest bedroom where I'd slept.

  “Is this…?” Licking my lips, I hesitated a brief moment before deciding the hell with it. “Is this one of the guest bedrooms?”

  He came back to me, box in hand. “Sort of. I’ve been sleeping in here for a month now.”

  That made me feel a little better.

  A few seconds later, I was on my way to feeling a lot better. He boosted me up so that I was sitting on the table and he went to his knees in front of me.

  I really hoped that meant what I thought it did.

  “I’m going to taste you now, Leslie,” he muttered against my thigh.

  The sound of his voice, raw and hungry, had my toes curling, and I sagged backward, my shoulders coming to rest against the wall.

  The first brush of his tongue had me biting my lip to keep from making any noise. The second had me covering my mouth with my hand.

  When he bit my clit, scraping it with his teeth, I couldn’t stop the harsh cry, could only muffle it. He growled in approval before stabbing his tongue into me, over and over again.

  But right when I thought one more touch would send me over, he shifted and began to press soft kisses to the crease of my thigh.

  “You bastard.”

  He laughed quietly. “Anticipation makes it better. Haven’t you ever learned that?”

  “Bastard,” I repeated.

  He stroked a finger down my folds, opening me, and then he licked me again, kissed me. Pressed his mouth against me and proved again that his tongue was talented at more than just singing.

  He worked me right back up to the edge, doing it over and over until I was begging him to make me come. Only when I was almost in tears, my body throbbing with a need like nothing I'd felt before, did he stand.

  He gripped my hips and pulled me to the edge of the table, thrusting in deep with one stroke. We were eye to eye, and the intimacy of it cut right through to my core. His blue eyes seared me, lighting up places I hadn’t even realized were cold and dark.

  “Leslie…” My name was a raspy growl and then he was kissing me and I never wanted hi
m to stop.

  Not ever.

  * * *

  Was it possible to want somebody too much?

  I doubted it had even been thirty minutes since we’d disappeared into the bedroom, and we’d had sex twice. And I still wanted more of him.

  As we slid out of the bedroom, I gave into the urge and moved up behind him, sliding my arms around his waist. He tensed for a moment, then stopped. Pressing my face against his back, I breathed in the scent of him and let myself wish, let myself wonder.

  His hands covered mine and we stood like that for a few moments.

  I don’t remember which one of us pulled away first, but when we walked into the kitchen, we did it without speaking and sat back down in the seats where we’d been earlier.

  Our coffee had gone cold. I picked up mine and drank it anyway.

  After a moment, Paxton did the same and we just sat there, staring at each other.

  Eventually, he got up and moved over to the refrigerator and opened it. “I’m going to make some breakfast. Would you like some?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  He nodded, not looking at me.

  I almost laughed. I’d come out here earlier and told him that everything was fine, we were both adults and could handle the fact that we’d gone and had sex.

  Then we’d gone and done it again, and now we were walking on eggshells.

  Or were we?

  It…something felt different.

  I couldn’t even explain what it was, but something was just…different

  Determined to think about something else – anything else – I got up and carried my coffee cup over to the sink, washing it out, and putting it in the dish rack where the glass he’d been using for whiskey the night before still sat.

  “How long have you been clean?”

  From the corner of my eye, I could see the way his hands stilled. Turning my head, I looked at him. He cocked his eyebrow.

  “Little details,” I said. “Sooner or later, we’ll have to talk about that in detail.”