Hayley grinned. “If you don’t hurry up, he’ll be long gone anyway. You look great. Can we go?”
In the car, Nan tried to stop her palms from sweating. Hayley glanced over at her.
“Stop panicking. Have you got everything you need? Money, phone … condoms?”
“Hayley, stop.” Nan felt embarrassment spread through her.
Hayley shook her head. “I’m serious. A girl’s gotta look after herself, and you never know.” She glanced at Nan’s dress and hid a smile. “After all, if things get too hot, that dress at least gives him easy access.”
“Turn the car around,” Nan ordered, and Hayley laughed out loud.
“Chill, sis. Enjoy the moment. Go with the flooowwwww ...” She elongated the word and made it sound much filthier than it needed to. She really wasn’t helping Nan’s nerves. As Hayley pulled the car up to the sidewalk outside the bar, Nan got out and then stuck her head back to glare at her still-grinning sister.
“By the way … you were adopted—they found you under a bridge. Wearing Crocs,” she added, and Hayley laughed again.
“Go meet the hottie,” she ordered, and as Nan shut the door, she wound down the window and called out. “Remember, a girl’s got every right to get hers.”
Nan scowled after the car as Hayley drove off. Her emotions in a whirl, her stomach roiling with nerves, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door of the bar.
Joel stood as he saw Nan walk into the bar, her long legs trembling like a newborn foal, her lovely face nervous. He pushed away his nerves and crossed the room to greet her. When she saw him, she grinned with relief and something shifted inside him. Desire.
“Hey,” he said, smiling down at her, admiring the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, the way the lilac dress warmed her pale skin. Her warm dark eyes shone as she looked up at him.
“Hey, yourself. You look great. I love The Grateful Dead,” she said, nodding at his classic T-shirt. Joel put his head on one side, amused.
“Really?”
She giggled. “Nope. Couldn’t pick ’em out of a line-up, but you do look good.”
He laughed and held out his hand, and she took it. “Come,” he said, “I’ve snagged us a table … what’s your poison?”
He ordered their drinks and sat down next to her. “Well … hello.”
She laughed, relaxing. “How’s the soul searching going? Any progress?”
Joel grinned. “Well thanks to my awesome career advisor, I’m knocking a few ideas around.”
“Like what?”
Joel leaned forward. “Well, I’ve been coaching Skandar for going on seventeen years, so I thought, maybe teaching Phys. Ed?” He looked at her as if to gauge her reaction. Nan, her expression smooth, nodded, but he could tell she had reservations. “Just say whatever you’re thinking, Nan, I want your advice.”
She half-smiled. “I think if you want to teach Phys. Ed., that’s great—that’s wonderful, especially if you can commit to the four-year degree course, then to continuing your studies of the subject as you teach. You’re in an ideal situation—with those credits from college you already have, they’ll help—and it’s not as if you can’t afford it.”
Joel nodded. “But …?”
Nan took a deep breath in. “I just think … it’s not big enough for you. I think you need to build on what you’ve already done, not start over, albeit in the same field.”
Joel nodded, but then admitted “I’m not really following you.”
Nan smiled. “Not really sure what I mean, either. Just that, I think you’re meant for bigger things.”
Joel sat back and smiled. “You think?”
The waitress brought over their drinks then—two cold beers—and a cocktail. Nan looked bemused as Joel handed it to her. “Sip.”
She did as he said. “Man, that’s good … what is it?”
“Appletini,” Joel said, grinning. “I thought I’d get extra points by getting an apple for the teacher.”
Nan laughed. “That, Joel Mallory, is adorable. Or cheesy. I can’t tell.”
“Funnily enough, I was going for cheesily adorable, so ...” He put his hand up for a high-five, and she returned it, giggling.
“Anyhoo,” Nan said, relaxing back into her seat, all trace of nerves gone, “tell me about you and your family ...”
Skandar Mallory grinned to himself. He was flying across the Atlantic and had just logged onto his iPad to check his emails. He saw one from his dad and opened it.
Have a date. With a girl. Feel free to mock.
Skandar choked out a laugh. Thank God, he wrote. I was beginning to wonder whether it had fallen off.
He couldn’t actually remember the last time his dad had dated—or even who he had dated. He just hadn’t seemed bothered about it, but now that he was free of coaching duties. Skandar had tormented himself over his dad’s decision, wondering if he had somehow caused the sudden outcome. They both knew Joel had taken him as far as he could, but it was a big change for both of them.
He was on the way now to play in a David Cup match in Paris, the first big match since his dad left him. His new coach, the mercurial Carlos Sosa, the Argentinian legend, was sitting across from him, texting furiously, his permanent glower having etched deep lines on his handsome face. Skandar, while delighted that he’d managed to snag the un-gettable Sosa, hadn’t quite gotten the measure of the man yet. He had a feeling that his more social activities and his fun-loving approach to the game might come into conflict with the older man’s low tolerance approach.
Yup, he was definitely moving into new territory here. Skandar Mallory, at twenty-five, was the wealthiest sportsman in the world—it didn’t hurt that he’d inherited his father’s movie star looks. Sponsorship deals abounded. Cologne, watches, sports cars—they all wanted him. For the last two years, he’d ridden the wave of being completely untouchable at the top of the rankings, but now there were one or two newcomers—men in their late teens, who were coming from behind him. Fast. Skandar wasn’t naïve; he knew in a couple of years they’d leave him behind, but he was damned if he’d lie down and take it. He glanced back at Carlos. His first words to Skandar had been “I don’t give a fuck who you are; you will listen to me.” Yeah, scary as hell but exciting, too. He hoped his dad would be okay and wondered how his date was going. His own love life was a riot of … well, basically, whoever he wanted, but it was a lonely existence. Always being out on the road. Still, there was enough time for love.
Right now, all he wanted to do was win.
All right, so Joel Mallory was … delicious, Nan, four Appletinis on an empty stomach, decided. True, her head was a little woozy, but God, the man could bring the funny, the handsome, and the drop-dead sexy.
“How come you’re not married?” Oh, hell. Blabbermouth.
Joel didn’t seem to mind. “Just didn’t happen. Skandar’s mom skedaddled pretty soon after he was born, more fool her. Then I just got busy. Now and again, I would go on dates, but not for a while. But then, I was never interested in anybody until now.”
Nan flushed pink and couldn’t hide her smile. “Okay.” Deep breaths, deep, deep.
“Nan?” Joel’s mouth curved up in the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. “Are you free tomorrow?”
Saturday. Nan ran through her day in her head.
“I think so … why?”
Joel took a sip of his soda—he’d had one beer, she noticed, and stopped. “Oh, just to go through some college applications.”
Her face fell, and he laughed. “I’m kidding. I’d like to … oh, er, I hadn’t thought what, but I’d like to take you out again.”
“Love to.” She braved a grin. “How about you give me a tennis lesson?”
Joel looked relieved. “Good thinking. Note to self, always plan what you’re going to ask a woman to do.”
Nan grinned wickedly. “Sometimes … other times, you can wait until the moment is right, like ...”
She was hushed by his
lips on hers, tender, hesitant, and then, when she responded, his hands slid around her waist. When they broke apart, she laughed.
“Just like that. Yes, very well done, illustrating my point.”
Joel grinned. “Glad you think so.” He drew a fingertip down her cheek. “Nan … .is it short for Nancy?”
She shook her head. “No, just Nan.”
“Nan … this is going to sound like such a line, but would you like to come back to my place?”
Yes, hell, yes. But Nan wasn’t drunk enough to be reckless. She hesitated, and he saw the doubt on her face.
“Hey, look, I’m not expecting anything. Just drink and talk, is all, I swear.” He gave a rueful grin. “Seriously, I have no game. I think Kit stole of all mine when we were in the womb.”
Nan laughed. “That scoundrel.”
“He is a cad and a bounder.”
Nan chuckled then sighed. “Look, I’ll be honest … I want to. I want to like you wouldn’t believe. But the Mary Sue in me is going ‘on the first date, you harlot?” Even if it is just drinks and talk.”
Joel nodded. “Understood. Can I at least give you a ride home?”
“That, you can do.”
She smiled as they walked, hand in hand, to his truck. “1963 Chevy C-10 pickup,” she said, running her hand over the hood. “Gorgeous. You refurb this?”
Joel smiled. “I wish. I’m afraid this is one of the perks of being a Mallory. I couldn’t resist.”
Nan hugged the hood. “It’s not a luxury, but a very expensive necessity.” She sighed and stood, getting into the passenger seat. Joel was laughing at her appreciation of the vehicle.
“I never took you for a gear head,” he said, getting into the driver’s seat and re-fastening her seat belt for her.
“My dad loved cars,” she said. “Hayley and I used to help him … well, I did, Hayley was too young.”
“Your parents still with you?”
Her face clouded a little. “Mom is. Or rather, she’s remarried and has a new family now. She lives in Florida.
Joel nodded, understanding, and changed the subject. “Now, at the risk of ending up in Tijuana, I’m putting navigation in your hands. Point the way.”
Hayley had left her bedroom door open a crack before she went to bed and was even now watching videos on her iPad as Nan opened the door. Hayley slid out of bed and over to the door, but she couldn’t hear anything. She opened the door wide, flooding the hallway with light—to see her sister, sitting on the floor, a huge, stupid smile on her face.
“Hi,” was all she managed before dissolving into giggles.
Hayley crossed her arms. “And yet they put the children of our future in your hands.”
Nan put her hand up for silence and Hayley tried not to laugh. “I might be drunk.”
“Disgraceful.”
“I know.”
“I’m judging you.”
“Julie no-shed.”
“Is that your new name?” Confused, Hayley eventually figured out she meant ‘duly noted’.”
Nan tried to focus on her sister. “Can you lift me up?”
Somehow, Hayley managed to wrangle her sister into bed. “I’ll put a bowl next to your bed, for if you need to hurl.”
Nan grunted and let out such a long moan that Hayley was alarmed, shooting up from the bed to avoid anything projectile coming her way. “What? What is it? Don’t you dare hurl until I get a bowl ...”
“No.” Nan rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. “It’s not that … oh, God, this is why I shouldn’t drink.”
Hayley’s interest was piqued now, and she sat back down on the edge of the bed—out of the splash zone, of course. “What? Did you screw him in the bathroom of the club?”
“Eww, no ...” Nan did look like she was going to hurl then. She struggled into a sitting position. “I hugged his truck.”
Hayley looked blank. “Is that some weird Kama Su …?”
“We didn’t have sex!” Nan yelled, then winced. “I mean, he had a great ’63 Chevy truck and I hugged it. Like a lunatic.”
Hayley’s interest faded. “Seriously, that’s it? You got the most action from a truck?”
Nan shook her head. “We’re supposed to be going out tomorrow … what’s the betting he gets home tonight and thinks ‘Jeez, she’s kinda weird, maybe this isn’t the best idea’?”
Hayley sighed. “Well, if he does, then he’s not worthy of you.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Nan asked in a small but hopeful voice. Hayley smiled.
“Then next time,” she got up and pulled Nan’s shoes off and tucked her into bed, “fuck him, instead of molesting his motor vehicle.”
Nan was already asleep by the time Hayley closed her bedroom door.
Quilla crawled across the gigantic bed to where Jakob was typing on his laptop. He looked up … and saw she was completely naked. Damn. His cock responded immediately but he still shook his head at her, with a smile.
She sighed. “Two days,” she grumbled, “two freaking days before our six weeks is up and still you make like a Maryknoll nun.”
Jakob laughed and then relented. “Come here.” He pushed the laptop aside and drew her to him, stroking her body. The scar on her belly was healing; the stitches had come out weeks before. He stroked the soft skin. “Tell me honestly. Does it hurt at all, ever? Even a twinge?”
She took his face in her hands. “Not at all, I promise.”
He searched her eyes for a long moment, then with a swift move, laid her back on the bed, covering her body with his. “Even a twinge and you tell me, swear?”
“I swear.”
Jakob kissed her mouth, then moved down to her throat and took her nipple into his mouth. God. He had missed this. Quilla hooked a leg over his back and tilted her hips to grind against his thigh. He could feel how warm her sex was and his cock thickened and lengthened, desperate to be inside her. He kissed her stomach, her belly, circling her navel with his tongue, running the tip against her scar, then down to the mound above her sex, shaved and smooth.
He grinned up at her as he moved still lower and caught the sensitive clit between his teeth, biting down gently, feeling it twitch and swell at his touch. His tongue lashed around it, probing and teasing, and he felt her become wet and swollen. He brought her to orgasm with his tongue and then moved up to kiss her.
“No pain?”
Her skin was damp, her hair sticking to her face as she panted, but her eyes shone. “No pain.”
He nuzzled her nose with his, fixing his eyes on her. “Spread your legs for me, my beautiful Quilla … wider … as wide as they will go … that’s it ...”
Her breathing quickened under his will. Jakob sat up and peeled his T-shirt from his chest, all the time gazing down at her. He pulled his belt from his pants and bent down, twisting the leather around her small wrists and lashing her to the bedframe.
“Are you mine, Quilla?”
Breathless, she nodded, and he smiled, his eyes sleepy with desire. “Are you hot, my love?”
Another nod. He picked up the glass of champagne he had on the nightstand, fisting the root of his cock as he did, and poured some wine into the hollow of her belly, catching the liquid with his tongue as it dripped down her side. Quilla wriggled with pleasure then moaned, as, taking a mouthful of champagne, Jakob went down on her again, letting the bubbles fizz against her clit as he slid a long finger into her cunt, and pressed upwards to massage her G-spot.
Quilla bucked, her body taking over as Jakob unrelentingly took her with his hands and mouth. He spread the swollen lips of her sex and slid his tongue up and down the slick cleft, moving between her clit and her cunt. He felt her body tense, nearly at orgasm, and with lightning speed he drew himself up and entered her, his cock almost desperate to be inside her. He gazed down at her, her arms on either side of her head, her hands gripping the bedframe they were lashed to, her eyes shining up at him.
“Remember when we were in Venice, my love? That
night we fucked so hard, we thought we’d wake the neighbors?”
Quilla smiled, laughed a little. “How could I forget?”
“Remember we watched ourselves in the mirror, my cock sliding in …” he thrust hard, and she moaned, “and out of your perfect cunt?”
“I do … God ...”
Jakob smiled, quickening his rhythm. “Remember that night we talked about fucking on the balcony, about how I wanted everyone to see how beautiful you when you come?”
“God, yes, yes ...” Quilla arched her back, pressing her sex onto him as he thrust harder and harder and deeper and deeper …
“And we did that, didn’t we, Quilla?”
She nodded her head, now panting so hard she was unable to speak. Jakob drove her on and on until she moaned and came, her body vibrating as Jakob grinned in satisfaction. He pulled out just as he reached his own climax and came on her belly, shooting milky white fluid onto her skin. She smiled up at him as he massaged it into her skin.
“I love you so much, Jakob Mallory ...”
“As I love you, my darling, darling Quilla ...”
He released her hands, and she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. “I have missed that so much … that was incredible.”
Jakob gathered her to him. “Quilla … would you like to go back to Venice, to our little apartment, for a time?”
She looked surprised. “I’d love to, but ...”
“You have work.”
“I do, and I love you for asking, but I can’t let them down, especially now that I’ve been … sick.”
Jakob nodded and then gave her a guilty smile. “Sweetheart, the thing is, I kind of talked to them already.”
Quilla drew back and looked at him. “What?”
Jakob nodded. “I’m sorry … it happened when you were still in the hospital. I was crazy scared and angry … I went to your boss and told him that ...”
“What?” Quilla sat up in bed. “You told him that I couldn’t make my own decisions anymore?”
Jakob rocked back from the anger in her voice. “Honey, I was acting crazy, I know, and I overstepped the mark. But the only thing I care about is you and trying to make up for what Gregor did to you because of me.”
Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 28