Dark & Dirty: A Dark Erotic Fantasy Anthology

by Lea Bronsen

  Maybe Luke was vexed because Roman didn’t pursue their conversation in the garage. But how could he stay and talk, when every time he did, his body heated and sizzled with desire? Dammit, he couldn’t look Luke in the eye without growing all kinds of mushy. It was nonsense, really. But he didn’t mean to vex him, couldn’t leave him like this. They needed to talk. And for that to happen, he needed for Luke to look at him. But he refused, the stubborn hot-head.

  Growling a, “Fuck him,” Roman released his seat belt, opened his door, and jumped out. It took him two seconds to circle the trunk and reach Luke—who still wouldn’t acknowledge him.

  Impatience tore at him. He didn’t know what to do, or what he was already doing, standing at another guy’s feet with his hands clenching and unclenching and needing to make bodily contact with him, make him see him. He wanted Luke’s piercing green eyes to look into his and tell him he liked him. Lusted for him, even.

  Since Luke refused to, he bent forward, grabbed the arms of his jacket, and pulled him up on his feet. Luke got up willingly, but stared over his shoulder. How strange to be face-to-face with this guy who drove him crazy. The same height, the same mental strength. Equals.

  Then, slowly, Luke moved his gaze to him with a “There’s not one thing you can do that I haven’t already seen” look. What Roman read—strength, endurance, defiance, and animalistic power—cut through him like glacial fear. For a moment, he’d forgotten Luke had spent years behind bars with ruthless criminals.

  Defeated, he released Luke’s jacket and lowered his hands.

  Luke tilted his head and whispered, mouth near so the stench of cigarette filled Roman’s space, “Watch your moves. There are cameras everywhere.” He nodded upward, and Roman didn’t need to follow his look to know they were being watched. This building was one of the most secure in town.

  He was cornered, but the urge to settle their issue overwhelmed him. Just not here. “Come with me. We have to talk.”

  Luke smirked. “What about?”

  “Don’t make it so difficult.”

  “Hey. You gotta earn my goodwill.”

  “Just get in the car.”

  “In that fancy snob thing?” Luke sent a nod to the BMW.

  “Yes. And don’t be an ass about it.”

  Cackling, Luke went past him, cigarette in hand. Cocky.

  “No smoking,” Roman said.

  Luke turned with a questioning brow.

  “For my kids.”

  “Okay. For them.” Luke dropped the burning butt to the ground and crushed it. “So, where do you wanna go, Slick Boy?”

  Roman swallowed the insult as he climbed back into his seat. “I don’t know.”

  Luke slammed his door shut with a bang.

  “Careful with the door!”

  “I know, I know. It’s a very expensive car. Listen, I only have a few minutes. You slick suits have all the time in the world, but I can be sacked for being five seconds late.” He took in the interior with a fake look of admiration and sniffed the air, frowning, as if to say it smelled of money.

  “Since you’re asking,” Roman grumbled, “I’m exhausted so I took a half day off to go home, but home isn’t what it used to be, so I might as well go back to the office.”

  His life was coming apart. Mood darkening by the second, he pursed his lips and drove around the block aimlessly.

  Luke’s fingers drummed a beat on the door side, the other hand in his lap, trembling again. Those nervous ticks seemed to come and go.

  They turned a corner and stopped at a red light. Traffic sped across the street in a long line, roaring engines filling the silence.

  Luke tapped a faster beat. “I gotta get back to the kitchen.”

  Roman glanced at the hand on his thighs. “What’s that trembling?”

  “A disease I caught in the hole.”

  A disease?

  “It’s green.” Luke nodded ahead. “The light.”

  “Fuck.” Roman hit the pedal, sending the powerful car forward, and turned another corner.

  “The prison doctor said it was psychosomatic.”

  “Is that where you got the scar on your chin, too?” Roman purposely omitted the other scars on Luke’s body, and the clumsy tattoos.

  “It’s a souvenir from the kiddo I stabbed. He cut me first, made sure I’d never forget him.” He looked away. “As if.”

  “Good God.” Roman’s chest tightened. They were back at the office building, and he stopped in front of the car park. “He cut you first?”

  “He did. I thought he was gonna kill me, so, like I told you, I pulled out my knife, too. It was instinctive.”

  “So it was self-defense.”

  “Try telling that to the prosecution. My blade went in. He died.”

  Shaking his head, Roman pulled his window down, flashed his ID to a panel on the wall, and waited for the wide aluminum door to slide up.

  “I have this, too.” While the engine idled, Luke grabbed Roman’s right hand and led it to his head. Now what? Gelled-back hair slid along Roman’s finger as Luke guided it to a dent in his hard skull.

  “Jesus.” He grimaced. Disgust sent a shudder through him. He retreated his hand. As the door folded into the ceiling, he pulled the window up, eased the car inside the garage, and zigzagged his way between parked vehicles. “How the hell did you get that? Someone hit you with a bar?”

  “No. A cop came to the scene. I got up and ran. I panicked. I was a kid. The only way to stop me was to shoot at me. They’re supposed to hit a leg or an arm, right, but he missed. A bullet grazed my head.”

  Roman bit his lip to hold back a curse and drove nose first into his parking spot.

  Luke had been through too much. He would never recover from his physical wounds. Could he heal from his mental ones?

  A foot from the wall, he killed the motor.

  An ugly thought popped into his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t ask the question, but he needed to know. “Were you raped in jail?”

  Luke sent him a black look. “I don’t know. I was knocked unconscious a few times, so maybe.” He shrugged as if to diminish the importance. “If it happened, it didn’t kill me.”

  Roman wanted to ask, “Did you rape anyone?” but he already knew Luke hadn’t. He was a victim. He didn’t have a criminal mind.

  Nausea shot up Roman’s throat. Head spinning, he pulled the window down again and inhaled deeply. The garage air reeked of gasoline and concrete dust, which didn’t help.

  Luke’s pain was mountainous, and Roman didn’t know how to help him overcome it. It wasn’t strictly his task to comfort him, yet against all odds, he was falling for him, and taking care of him felt natural. They had developed a tiny, fragile bond. The prospect of making this bond grow scared him. What would it lead to? He wasn’t ready for a new relationship in the midst of his divorce. And what would people say when they saw Luke?

  He was too much to absorb. His pumped-up, scarred, and tattooed chest the other day in the gym was the perfect image for his mental state. If Roman let him into his life, he had to let in all of his past, too, plus his current misery. Gigantic baggage. Did he have enough room in his heart?

  Tears rushed to his eyes. He pinched his lip. He didn’t want to cry for Luke, but couldn’t help it. This tough, independent, yet oh-so-vulnerable former prisoner had gotten under his skin, and he didn’t know how to handle anything anymore.

  Grumbling a low, “I can’t fucking believe this,” Luke unsnapped his seat belt and turned to him.

  “I…” Roman pressed his fingers to his wet eyes.

  “I don’t want your stupid pity. You can stick it up your—”

  “It’s not pity. It’s…sadness.” Shaking his head, Roman asked on a whisper, “What do you want?”

  “Huh?”

  “I said, what do you want? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  “I wanna move the fuck on.” Luke grabbed Roman’s chin with a couple of fingers and forced him to face him. “And no
one’s gonna stop me.” Luke leaned over the space between them, approached his gorgeous and determined-looking face, and pressed warm, firm lips to his.

  Roman gasped, but Luke held him in place while slipping his wet tongue into his mouth, bringing in the taste of tobacco. He slid the other hand down Roman’s chest, past his belt, and over his crotch, grabbing a handful of dick.

  Need shot through Roman like a wild flame. He groaned. “D-didn’t you have to go back to the kitchen?”

  “They can wait another minute.”

  Roman rarely allowed another person to be in command, but for once, he let Luke. It was crucial they didn’t separate on a bad argument. If they didn’t seize the chance to adjust the situation, they would never see each other again. Luke would pretend not to see him, like he did earlier. In the restaurant. In the elevators. In the garage. Outside, at his favorite smoking spot. He was too proud. Once he made up his mind, he would never budge.

  Luke released his lips and moved down. He unbuckled Roman’s belt, unzipped his pants, and took his hardening cock in his hot, wet mouth.

  “Oh…” Roman moaned while Luke pumped him, expert tongue licking, exploring, roaming around the shaft. He leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes. It had been months since he’d masturbated, and Luke knew what he was doing. This blowjob felt so good, everything faded and Roman’s sole focus was on Luke’s hungry mouth sucking him to an imminent release. The intensity in his balls increased. He climbed higher and higher until he had to spray all of that burning seed out of his cock. A little more, and the pressure became intolerable. He arched his back as heat traversed his length and semen spurted into Luke’s steamy mouth. He gritted his teeth and tried not to groan too loud, recalling what Luke had told him about being quiet when he came.

  After Luke let his cock slip out of his mouth and raised his head, Roman pushed him back into the passenger seat. A little mean and ungrateful, maybe, but he needed space. His head spun. Their relationship escalated way out of control. What had they done? What had they become?

  He was to blame. He’d invited Luke into his car.

  Without a word, Luke wiped his lips with the back of a hand and stared out his side window. His chest heaved and a bulge in his crotch threatened to pop his pants open.

  Gulping air, Roman tucked his still-hard, still-dripping cock into his briefs. It was his turn to have shaking hands. He zipped up. “Fuck.”

  “Exactly.” Luke opened his door and slipped out of the car like a shadow.

  Chilly air snuck in, brushing Roman’s sweaty, overheated body. “Wait.” He leaned over the passenger seat and reached out to stop Luke. He didn’t know what to do about him and the situation they’d put themselves in, but he wasn’t used to leaving issues unresolved. His brain was trained to untick tasks on a to-do list. When he encountered problems, he solved them and attacked the next. On and on, never leaving anything unsettled.

  Luke turned to him, his eyes a dark, smoldering green.

  “Um…” Roman sucked in a breath. “What time do you finish work?”

  “About five.”

  “Come to my office then. I’ll have the booking confirmation ready for you.”

  “The what?”

  “Don’t you remember? You brought me coffee on Monday.”

  Luke gave a slight nod and left.

  Chapter Six

  At last, Friday afternoon.

  Vasilj takes off his uniform and gives me a high-five. “Careful with the women, Luke. Save some energy for Monday.”

  I laugh and wave my bald friend off. What a long and eventful week it’s been. I don’t know what to make of everything.

  After my other colleagues have exchanged goodbyes and leave for their respective families, I get my jacket, switch off the lights, and take an elevator to the fourteenth floor.

  On my way up, I glance at my reflection in the mirror and fake a smile. I’m a lost soul, lonely as shit and dragging a pretty heavy load, but I’m used to it.

  In a few minutes, I’ll see Roman again. My body sizzles. It’s not the usual trembling, it’s nervousness. Or annoyance? I’m not necessarily happy to see him. We’re a mess. I like him a lot more than I’ve liked any of the people I’ve had fleeting relationships with, but I can’t stand his upper social position. Snobbism gives me the creeps. Power stinks. Manipulating those of lesser social position and stepping on their rights is a downright crime.

  Besides, after I sucked his dick in the car, he pushed me away—again—so who am I kidding? Did I believe he would return my feelings because my story touched him? Geez, I’m so naïve. Why would he have the slightest interest in an ex-con?

  Well, I may be a low-life in his eyes, but I have a certain pride. You don’t get to reject me too many times. If he thinks I’m going to make another advance, he can rethink that. I’m done with him. Once I get his goddamn coffee confirmation, I’ll go home and find someone else to fuck for the weekend. End of story.

  The elevator doors slide open to an unusual scene on the highest floor. Smiling ear-to-ear, party dressed people flutter around, decorating walls and moving furniture. Disco music blasts from computer speakers in a corner. Bottles stand on one desk and bowls of crisps and cookies on another.

  I pass through the semi-chaos, minding my own business, when a curvaceous blonde stops me in my tracks.

  “Hey, there.” With heavy make-up, a mini-mini skirt, and a tight, see-through blouse revealing black lace that struggles to contain a pair of magnificent boobies, she’s a sight for starved eyes. “How’re you doin’?” she asks, inching closer, sensual smile at her mouth, hips swaying. Her flowery perfume sneaks into my nostrils.

  I cross my arms and lean against a desk. “I’m good. What’s goin’ on?”

  Her kitty eyes run me up and down, pausing at all the right places, the blunt invitation making my cock jump to life. “The whole floor is invited to a party. Wanna join us? The more, the merrier, as they say.”

  “Why not.” I drink her in. She could well be the one I choose to bring home. After I get that damn document in Roman’s office. “I need to talk to someone first.”

  She tilts her head, a brow raised. “Someone on this floor?”

  “Yup.”

  “Should I be jealous?” Her glistening red lips form a pout.

  I grin, having always liked an up-front chick.

  “Who is it, if I may ask? We’re a big family up here.”

  I bet they are. Slick fuckheads, the whole bunch. All the more a reason to screw her. My ultimate vengeance. If I can’t fulfill my fantasy of fucking Roman on his desk, I’ll do this doll against one of those gigantic windows instead. Leave the trace of her sweaty tits on the glass for the whole city to see.

  Cock throbbing in my pants, I push from the desk. Dammit, I’ve had blue balls since I feasted on Roman’s dick earlier. “Just a minute.”

  “Wait.” She follows me down the corridor. “It would be really cool if you joined the party.”

  Why such insistence? Is she afraid I won’t come back? I turn a corner and continue in direction of Roman’s office.

  Behind me, her high-heels make muffled clunks on the carpet. “I was home with a sick child this week, and tonight is my first get-out, in like, ages. I can’t wait to have a drink and dance and…”

  The rest of her sentence is more than clear. But she needn’t worry. As soon as I’m back, the drinks better be ready for me, and she better have found us a room.

  * * * *

  Roman gaped.

  When Luke entered his office with Cindy in tow, he wasn’t surprised. She’d told him she felt better and would attend the party on the same floor, while Roman had refused the invitation, blaming a headache and the stress caused by his divorce. Since he’d asked Luke to come here, he almost expected them to run into each other. But when the two stood in front of Roman’s desk and Cindy’s flirtatious gaze roamed all over Luke, he nearly fell out of his chair.

  He tightened his jaw until a muscle pop
ped, then stood, fuming.

  Cindy was single and had every right to choose whomever she wanted, which she clearly intended to do, anyway, considering she’d dressed like a cheap slut. Her opulent breasts spilled out of her bra. He’d never seen them, never wanted to see them. He didn’t even want to know what she did in her private life, whether she stuck cucumbers up her ass or fucked her dog.

  As for Luke, he didn’t know if he was single, but since he’d made some rather intimate advances on Roman, there was reason to believe he was. Or, at least, he didn’t have a serious relationship.

  But. He. Was. His.

  Roman would never tolerate that Luke went for someone other than him in the whole building, especially not his own secretary.

  While Luke read the confirmation he’d handed him, Roman circled the desk and stood in Cindy’s face, towering, intimidating her. He had never treated her like this, always respected her like a fellow colleague, but today…today, she pushed him to be the arrogant boss he’d refused to be.

  She shrunk and stepped back, her kitty made-up eyes widening with fear.

  “I’m having a meeting,” he growled. “I won’t need your services.”

  Her face paled to such a whiteness he thought she would pass out.

  “Besides,” he continued, sarcasm lathering his voice, “you look dressed for another occasion.”

  “Y-yes.” Voice squeaky, she crawled backward like a terrified animal.

  He didn’t care. This wasn’t a matter of him abusing of his authority, of him being a chief and she his subordinate. No, this was happening on a different level. A maleness level. She was on his turf and she hit on his prize. Simple as that.

  For another boss, seeing a secretary dressed like a whore in his office would be a good enough reason to fire her. But Roman wouldn’t. He didn’t have it in him. Still, right fucking now, she had to go, and he had to claim back what was his.