The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy)

by Grace Marshall

  And then the action began as the two cats went about the business of getting acquainted. The female stretched long and lean across the rock before the male, not unlike Harris had seen Dee’s two tabbies do when they found a particularly nice place to sunbathe. In the crisp quiet of the morning, they could hear the rumble of the purr emanating from the female’s throat. It was a feline act through and through as the two made little grunts and growls at each other and the male sniffed the female’s readiness. It didn’t take long until the female rolled back onto her belly and positioned herself, flicking her tail to one side and lifting her bottom.

  Being privy to such an intimate act of nature, such an intensely wild and primordial act, made Harris’ pulse thunder against his throat. Seeing the two cats together like this was an unparalleled privilege, but to share it with Stacie made him feel as though he had somehow offered it to up her, as though he’d had something to do with the cats’ presence here. It felt right on a level that he had no words for. If he were ever to share such an experience, it should be with her. It couldn’t be with anyone else.

  At some point he realized she was taking pictures of him as well as the cats. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest through the dark green fleece she wore. He could almost feel her intense concentration and her delight at sharing the experience, at watching the cats as they got on with the business of creating the next generation. He loved that she’d made no nervous twitters, no off-handed remarks about the cats’ mating. Most people would have. Most people would’ve been uncomfortable with seeing something so raw, so blatantly and unashamedly sexual.

  The sky had gone from pink to blue and the monochromatic world had brightened to subtle desert shades of tan and mauve and khaki, bathing the cats in golden light as they stretched and preened. Then Stacie and Harris watched as they moved on silent feet single file off the ledge, and disappeared into the canyon.

  They stood and watched long after the cats were gone, as though to move or to speak would somehow destroy the moment. Harris understood. He’d sat for nearly an hour after photographing the female with her kittens, unable to move, unable to do anything but try to take in what he’d just witnessed.

  It was Stacie sniffling that brought him back to reality. He turned to find tears streaming unabated down her cheeks. She offered an embarrassed smile and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

  ‘Amazing,’ she managed. ‘They were amazing, so beautiful and powerful and …’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

  ‘It was a pleasure.’ Harris resisted the urge to take her into his arms. What she was feeling right now had nothing to do with him, and he didn’t want to take away from it.

  ‘I’d love to come back and try to find her after the kittens are born,’ she said.

  It encouraged him that she was thinking in terms of the future, a future without Terrance Jamison. ‘I’m sure Doug’ll let us know when that happens. It’ll be three months, maybe a little more, before they’ll be born.’

  ‘In the dead of winter? That’s a harsh time to bring kittens into the world.’

  ‘Don’t worry. She’s up for it. Doug told me she’s successfully raised at least two litters before the one I saw. She knows what she’s doing.’

  Stacie looked after the cats again, and Harris couldn’t resist. He lifted his camera and took a couple of shots of her. When she flipped him off and then offered her usual teasing smile, he only shrugged and said, ‘Just returning the favor.’

  The blush that crawled up her throat made her look even more beautiful, if that were possible. ‘Yes, but you look outdoorsy and ruggedly handsome. I look all swollen-eyed and under-slept.’

  He kept shooting. ‘To me you look beautiful. You belong here almost as much as those cats do.’

  She sat down against the cliff face; and the smile slipped from her lips. His chest tightened, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong, but he was comfortable behind the camera. It had always been his safe place, with mountain lions and great horned owls and, at the moment, it felt like the safest place to be with Stacie Emerson, so he kept shooting.

  At last she spoke, looking out over the canyon. ‘I nearly died.’

  He felt his heart stop then start again in his chest, but he kept shooting. Somehow it felt safer for both of them.

  ‘He owned me outright, Jamison did. At least that’s the way he saw it. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get free of the debt; of him. It didn’t matter that the situation was illegal, he was Terrance Jamison, and he could do what he wanted. His abuse, his humiliation, I could handle. When Zoe died, I knew what I was in for, and I was determined to work off the debt, to do whatever it took, for Zoe, and for me, I suppose. The gallery was something of my own, something I’d earned. But then he wanted me to do things –’ she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them ‘– things with other men. He said that the debt had to be paid and my body was just currency. Oh he … had me whenever he wanted, mostly to humiliate me, to remind me of my place. I was resigned to that after Zoe died. It was her … relationship with him, her sacrifice, that kept me safe, so it wasn’t unexpected. But this – this was different. My reputation was all I had, Harris. My name was associated with the gallery, and I’d made it matter. I’d made the gallery mine. And it was all I had left of Zoe. You asked me if he was my lover. But I promise you no lover would have ever done the things he did.’

  Harris lowered the camera. What he’d waited for, the honesty he’d hoped for, was exploding onto him, and he was no longer sure he really wanted it. He was certainly sure he didn’t want her to have to relive it for his benefit. ‘Stacie, you don’t have to –’

  She continued. ‘When I couldn’t take it any more, when I wouldn’t … do what he asked me, then he …’ Her breathing was rapid, ragged. Harris moved closer, fearing she’d hyperventilate. But she took a couple of deep breaths and hugged herself still tighter. ‘He hit me. And … he kept hitting me. I tried to fight back, but I was no match for him. And when he was done, when I couldn’t … respond any more, he left me.’ She pulled a couple more tight breaths and shifted so that her back pressed up hard against the stone. Amazingly, her eyes were dry. ‘I don’t know how, but somehow I managed to call Al Marston before I lost consciousness. I woke up in the hospital.’

  The knot of rage Harris felt growing at his center threatened to rip him apart. He wanted to do things to Jamison; he wanted the man to suffer like he’d made Stacie suffer. The sound of her voice, soft, sure, neutral in spite of what she shared with him, drew him back, held him tight there in the present where she was with him.

  ‘When I finally came to, I could understand Zoe’s despair. I could understand why she … why anyone would contemplate … a way out. But Al wouldn’t let me despair. I owe the man so much for standing by me. When I was well again, he introduced me to Sasha from the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg. We hit it off right away. It didn’t hurt that I speak Russian and that I know how to hold my vodka. Sasha was a powerful player, with questionable connections of his own, so Jamison backed down on using me as a whore, and for those few months leading up to the exhibition he gave me a little more space to work. I suppose I was effectively under Sasha’s krysha, his protection, during that time. But even with such a major exhibition, I knew I’d need help, I’d need a plan. That’s when I found K. Ryde. I was one of the agency’s first clients, and it was Ryde’s PR genius as much as my own desperation that helped me force Jamison’s hand, to make him take the money and leave me alone.’

  Harris didn’t know what to say. There were no words for what he felt, for what Stacie had been through or for what he wanted to do to Jamison. For a long time he said nothing, only sat next to her, looking out over the dry canyon as though somehow by avoiding her gaze he could give her a little space, a little privacy for her vulnerabilities, for how she had lain herself bare before him. It was only when he realized she was shivering that he se
ttled closer and pulled her to him. At last, he gathered his thoughts from the maelstrom enough to speak. ‘Why did you go back to him? I mean this time?’

  She pulled away and chafed her arms. ‘I told you I was desperate.’

  ‘You don’t really expect me or anyone else to believe that, do you?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what you believe.’ Her reply was cool, distant. ‘What matters is that I’ll pay my debts. I promise I will. Then all of this’ll be over with.’

  She stood to put her pack back on, and he came to his feet and caught her by the shoulder, not wanting it to end like this, not wanting her to leave until they were good again. When she tried to push him away, he pressed her between his body and the stone of the cliff face. ‘You can’t just shut us all out, Stacie.’

  ‘I never wanted you involved in the first place. I never wanted any of you involved but you couldn’t leave it alone.’ She jerked back against him but there was no place to go. ‘You couldn’t just let it go.’

  He moved in closer until his body pressed up to hers, holding her tightly against the stone. ‘No, I couldn’t, and I can’t, and neither can anyone else who cares about you and neither would you if the situation were reversed. So whether you like it or not, I’m here to stay. We’ve already discussed this, so get used to it.’ He punctuated his point with a harsh kiss that couldn’t have been very pleasant for her, but then he was angry, worried, scared for her.

  Instead of shoving at him as he’d expected her to do, she curled a hard fist in his hair and ravaged his mouth with every bit as much ferocity as he had given her, pulling him still closer, rubbing her body against his, making him instantly and startlingly erect.

  She snaked a hand down between them, savaging his fly until he feared for what lay beneath, until her fingers wriggled and dug their way into his walking trousers to possess his cock with a tight grip, as though it was a weapon, one she was about to use to do serious damage.

  He fumbled to return the favor, with her ripping at her own fly to make room for him, to guide his fingers down over her mons. Her eyes locked his in a devastating gaze that felt as though she could see right through him.

  ‘I need you to touch me there.’ Her voice was a breathless whisper. ‘Where I’m wet, where I’m open, where I’m always hungry for you.’ Her breath caught; her eyelids fluttered and she sucked her bottom lip as he found her cleft, wet and open as she’d promised. ‘You can’t tell me you don’t want to be like those cats.’ She guided his hand still further, manipulating it until first two, then three fingers pressed up into her. ‘You can’t tell me that when I present myself to you all hot and ready and begging for it, you don’t want to service my need. You can’t tell me you don’t want to get a little primal with that cock of yours.’ She gave him a hard squeeze and drove her hand up and down his length, thumbing the already abundant precome over and around the tip until he gritted his teeth and held his breath while his hips bucked hard against her efforts.

  He scissored her deep with three fingers and raked the silky slickness of her up and over her clitoris, and the sounds coming from the back of her throat easily resembled the sounds the female cougar made when the male mounted her. Wildly, madly, they fucked each other’s hands. The wind had risen and, even on the clear morning, the chill left no doubt about lingering for more than the quickest of releases. Then she shifted, pressed her back hard against the stone, and rested both of her hands on his shoulders. Before he could protest the removal of her fingers from his cock, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her still clothed crotch rubbing tight and insanely hot against his exposed cock as she began to rock and gyrate, and it was all happening way too fast.

  ‘Stacie, I –’

  ‘Shut up, Harris.’ She spoke between chattering teeth. ‘I need to come, and so do you. You can fuck me properly when we get back to the SUV. It’s too damn cold to linger.’ With each sentence she ground against him, bearing down with the extra leverage the cliff at her back afforded. Almost before the words were out of her mouth, she convulsed. Her spine stiffened and her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Harris could stand no more. He felt the eruption deep in his groin. It might have been embarrassing had the circumstances been different, but as he tried to cover himself, tried to hide the results of Stacie’s hard ride, she shoved his hand away, pushed him back, and practically fell into the space between them positioning herself so that she caught his release, all of it in her mouth. What could he say to that? What could he do but hold her there, helplessly grunting the weight of his need into the back of her throat? It was an act as intimate and as primal as the cougars mating on the rocks minutes ago. And sex, any kind of sex, with Stacie Emerson was worlds apart from any other sexual experiences he’d ever had.

  As she stood and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, the look of hunger in her eyes, the promise of more sex to come in the SUV before the trip home couldn’t help but lighten the mood. As they straightened and tucked and donned their packs, he wondered if that was why she did it. Whatever her reason, it definitely worked for him in ways he was still trying to get his head around.

  The walk back to the SUV was at speed. They had seen the mountain lions and the wind had risen to a howl, bringing with it fast-moving nimbus clouds that, this time of year, could easily enough drop their load on the Cascades in the form of snow.

  Back at the vehicle, Harris shook his head when Stacie started to get in on the passenger side. ‘Into the back seat, woman. You promised me a fuck and I intend to collect with interest.’ She offered him a salacious smile, then tossed her bag into the back. Even before she was seated, she’d pulled off her fleece and sweater. Harris nearly split the seam of his trousers when she unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, then pulled the door to behind her as she slid into the seat totally topless, nipples hardened by the cold and, he hoped, by thoughts of what he intended to do to her. She held his gaze with a look that was only slightly this side of filthy as she undid her trousers and slid them down along with the lace underwear that matched her bra. Her bare bottom, which, no doubt, was still slippery from their cliffside romp, rested against the pristine black leather and the flutter of her eyelids told him she appreciated the contrast of the cold seat against her hot nether parts.

  Harris nearly tore his zipper out to free himself as she shifted in the seat and opened her legs wide, shoving until the walking trousers were down around her shins. Then, as though he wasn’t even there, she began to stroke herself, one hand resting low on her belly, almost as though she was attempting to hold everything in tight so she could watch the other hand dipping and swirling and sliding between her thighs. The SUV smelled of dense, sweet heat. As Harris released himself, his own hot scent added to the thickening pheromonal cocktail of arousal.

  She moved a hand to pinch and tweak her nipples, watching as he released himself from the bind of clothing, then she turned just enough that he could see what she was doing between her legs, even hobbled as she was with her trousers and boots. ‘So, are you gonna make me do this alone or are you gonna saddle up?’

  It took him two seconds to slide into the condom and then they scooted and maneuvered until she was directly in front of him, her delectable bare bottom nearly in his face. He shoved the driver’s seat all the way forward so they had leg room and, with her leaning up so he could finger her open, he hunched in for a quick taste that made her quiver all over. Then he eased her back, enjoying the exquisite view of her sheathing him, slowly, deliciously, all the way until she sat down onto his lap, her back to his front. Then she began to rock in tight little circles onto his erection. He reacquainted one hand with the weighty swell of her breasts and the urgent press of her nipples while the other stroked her clit with slick little thrusts between his index and middle fingers.

  The road wasn’t much travelled, but still anyone could have seen them – or at least anyone could have seen them before they steamed over the windows with their heat. The SUV rocked and bounced beneath them
as their efforts grew more urgent, as their need for release grew more intense. Stacie grabbed onto the back of the driver’s seat and bore down hard. Harris braced his feet against the floorboard and returned the favor, feeling the wet rush of her arousal like liquid silk against his probing fingers, and the hard nub of her clit like granite against the pinch and stroke, pinch and stroke of his hand.

  ‘I need to come, Stacie,’ Harris gasped against her bare back. ‘I feel like I’m gonna explode.’

  ‘I want you to come,’ she managed. ‘I want you to come and I’ll come with you, hard, just like the cats.’

  And with that, she gave a little grunt and a shift followed by a tight squeeze, and they both climaxed hard and deep and wrenching. It could never have been otherwise after the day they’d had.

  There was no easy way to snuggle in the back seat, but they managed a modified spoon position, feet and ankles still bound with trousers and boots and Harris still cock-deep inside Stacie’s delicious body. As their breathing slowed and he felt himself softening inside her, he nuzzled her neck, and she offered a slow, lazy laugh. ‘I haven’t done it in the back seat since high school.’

  He nibbled at her nape. ‘I’ve never done it in the back seat. OK, in the back of a pick-up once but that’s hardly the same, is it? Nearly froze my ass off.’