by Desiree Holt, Lisabet Sarai, Lily Harlem, Elizabeth Coldwell, Wendi Zwaduk, Imari Jade
“Ruby,” he breathed, drawing her tighter.
Everything about him was smooth—his lips, his tongue, his clean-shaven cheeks, the hands that slipped beneath her sweater to stroke her back. His kiss was like warm silk slithering over her flesh—soft, rich and voluptuous. She floated, allowing him to feast on her mouth while his fingers roamed over her flesh.
He tasted of anise and smelt of some sharp, herbal cologne. His lean body shifted as he groped, working to unfasten her bra. His rock-hard erection grazed her pubis. She moaned into his mouth.
Her own hands were busy inside his jacket, glorying at the lean muscle she found there. She raked a fingernail lightly across his nipple. He went wild, plunging his hands into her pants to grab her ass and grinding his crotch against hers.
“Wait, wait!” Ruby cried, gasping, afraid he’d tear her best slacks. She broke their clinch long enough to unfasten the waistband, draw down the zipper then push the pants down over her hips.
Remy watched, unsmiling, with that same intense focus that had snared her last night. “I want to see you naked,” he said at last. His voice was velvet and ice, shivering through her.
There was no question of disobeying. It simply never occurred to her. She kicked off her boots, stepped out of her slacks and hung them over the back of the chair. Next came the sweater. Ruby worked as fast as she could, wanting to give him what he’d asked—what he’d demanded—but it felt as though she was moving in slow motion. She reached behind to unhook her bra and her breasts bounced free, the nipples taut and juicy as ripe raspberries. His gaze never wavered as she hooked her thumbs into her bikinis and pulled them to her ankles.
Her lower lips felt hot and swollen. Her clit throbbed, barely hidden by the damp tangle of black curls between her thighs. Remy stared at her. The heat built and built, until she couldn’t bear it.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered. Desperate, without shame, Ruby plunged three fingers into her soaked pussy. A fountain of pleasure gushed in her depths. Her knees almost buckled. Remy noticed. He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the desk, then stepped back again to watch her. “Continue—please.”
Ruby spread her thighs wide, wanting to show him everything. She was rewarded by his raised eyebrows. Moisture dribbled out, pooling beneath her on the wooden surface. She pressed the heel of her hand firmly against her pubic fur. Curving her fingers to catch the pad of nerves near the front of her sex, she stroked in and out. Meanwhile her thumb jiggled her clit, flicking it like a switch. Electricity arced through her.
“Pinch your nipple,” Remy commanded. She dug her nails into the nugget of flesh. Pleasure tugged at her clit, pulling her closer to the edge. “Harder. Make yourself come.”
Raising her knees and bracing her heels against the desk, she drove her fingers into her hungry sex. With her other hand, she squeezed and pulled her nipples, first one and then the other. Tension coiled in her body, drawing tighter by the instant.
She’d never masturbated with an audience before. She would have guessed that being watched would make her self-conscious. Remy’s gaze had the opposite effect. She felt wanton, gloriously slutty, her juices spilling out everywhere, her slick, swollen cunt naked and exposed. The dark hunger in Remy’s eyes pushed her towards even greater lewdness. Releasing her tortured nipple, she slouched down so that he could see her anus.
Remy licked his lips as he watched her index finger disappear into her rear hole. Ruby didn’t know what made her hotter—the pleasure of that slight penetration or his expression of awed lust.
The knot of sensation at her core was ready to unravel. She hovered on the edge of climax. Without thinking, she closed her eyes so she could concentrate.
“No! Watch me!” Remy growled. She forced herself to meet his incendiary gaze.
Up to this point, he’d been motionless, observing her. Now he ripped open his fly. His erect cock leapt out, long and slender, smooth and dark as milk chocolate. He spat on his palm and pumped himself once.
He’s going to come all over me, Ruby thought wildly. The sight, the idea or a combination of the two, sent her spinning into her climax. After the long climb, the release was dizzying. She yelled and thrashed on the desk, knocking her coffee mug to the floor and scattering her papers.
She recovered to find him poised between her splayed thighs, his cock sheathed in latex. “Now I’m going to fuck you,” he told her, his lips twisted into the first real smile she’d seen on his face. “The way you want me to…”
Ruby lay back on the ravaged desk, her clit pulsing with residual pleasure. “Yes,” she murmured. “Please.”
All at once her gaze fell on a scrap of paper near the edge of the desk. “Bye, Mama. Don’t forget about Ms Rodriguez.” The note Isaiah’d left her this morning…
Remy’s erection nudged at her slick folds. “Wait!” Ruby cried. “What time is it?” She raised herself onto her elbows and turned to check the clock on her computer screen. “Two fifty! Oh shit!”
She backed away and swung herself off the desk, then started groping for her clothes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry.” Ruby grimaced as she pulled her panties on over her drenched pubic hair. “I’ve got an appointment at three-thirty with my son’s teacher. I’ve really got to go.” She pulled her sweater over her head then ran her fingers through her curls. “You’ve got to go, too” she added. “Come on!”
With obvious reluctance, Remy tucked his still-erect penis into his jeans and zipped up. “Have dinner with me tonight.” He snared her arm and dragged her into a firm embrace. “Please, Ruby.”
She started to melt. If only she didn’t have this meeting… “I can’t. I’m really sorry but Mondays are the only nights when Isaiah and I can have a leisurely dinner together.”
“After dinner drinks, then.”
“But Isaiah…”
“I’ll only keep you for a few hours. I know your time is scarce. How old’s your son?”
“Thirteen.”
“Old enough to stay home on his own, I should think. And when’s his bedtime?”
“Ten p.m. on school nights…”
Ruby shooed him down the stairs. “I’ll pick you up at ten-thirty,” he called over his shoulder. She grabbed her coat on the way out of the office.
“I don’t know…” Ruby locked the front door of the bar behind them. They stood together in under the awning, with its silvery “Crossroads” logo.
Remy ran his thumb along her jaw line. Ruby trembled at his touch.
“Don’t disappoint me, Ruby.” She heard the pleading behind the steely imperative.
“All right,” she said, checking her watch. Three-ten. Damn. “Ten-thirty. Now, I’ve got to run.”
She hustled down the sidewalk in the direction of the school, but stopped at the corner to look back.
Remy was gone.
Chapter Four
Marisol Rodriguez turned out to be a plump, no-nonsense woman a few years Ruby’s senior. She listened gravely as Ruby described the incidents Isaiah had shared, taking careful note of which students had harassed the eighth grader. At first, Isaiah hadn’t wanted to name names, fearful of being labelled a stool pigeon. Ruby had worked hard to convince her son to open up.
“I’ll inform the principal about this, Ms Jones. Don’t worry, we have programmes to deal with this sort of issue. The boys involved will receive counselling first. They’ll be disciplined if the problem continues. Meanwhile, we have a group of trusted high school students who can accompany Isaiah back and forth to school if you’d like. It might be good for him to have a male role model in any case, given …”
Ruby bristled slightly at the implications of the unfinished sentence. Sure, she was bringing up Isaiah on her own, but his father wasn’t the sort of man she’d want her son to emulate in any case. She swallowed her annoyance. Ms Rodriguez meant well. “Are any of the monitors interested in music?” she asked. “Isaiah’s crazy about rock and roll. He’d love a ‘big br
other’ who could show him some licks.”
Ms Rodriguez smiled. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Isaiah was waiting for Ruby in the school library. He stuffed his textbooks into his backpack and followed her out to the street.
“So, how about some ice cream?” She gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze and was pleased that he didn’t flinch away.
“Nah, I’ve got too much homework,” he replied. “Plus I’ve gotta practice. We’ve got a gig next Saturday night.”
“A gig? Where?”
“Shelley Feinstein’s dad is throwing her a huge birthday party. She wants Spyder City to play. ” Isaiah grinned up at her. “And what Shelley wants, Shelley gets.”
“Her parents will be there, right?”
“Not just her parents but the maid and the cook, too. Don’t worry, Mama. They’re paying for the cab both ways and giving us each ten bucks for playing. It’ll be our first professional gig.”
Ruby suppressed a giggle. The boy was dead serious. “Your granddaddy would be proud of you, hon.” Isaiah had only met his grandfather a few times, when the travelling bluesman came off the road. He’d died when the boy was six. But Jimmy Jones was the one who’d given Isaiah his first musical instrument—a harmonica that the boy still cherished.
“Okay, scratch the ice cream then. What do you want for dinner?”
“Can we do take-out pizza from Antonio’s?”
“You don’t want me to cook?”
“You’ve got enough to do, Mama. Anyway, we haven’t had pizza in a month.”
“All right. You’re the boss on Mondays. But I’ll order a salad, too.”
“Whatever. I’ve gotta go study. Call me when you’re ready to phone for the pizza!” They’d reached their building. Ruby unlocked the door and Isaiah scampered up the stairs. Ruby took the two steep flights more slowly. Passing the door to the office, she caught a hint of her own musk. Her cheeks burned and her pussy clenched as she remembered how she’d writhed on the desk, naked and wanton. She was glad her son—hopefully—wasn’t old enough to recognise the tell-tale scent.
She needed to talk to Isaiah about tonight, make sure he didn’t mind staying alone for a few hours. All at once, she was exhausted. Not surprising when you’re up all night screwing, commented her internal critic. Ruby didn’t have the energy to rebut the accusation. In fact, she could barely keep her eyes open. Not bothering to take off anything but her shoes, she threw herself onto her bed and drifted almost immediately into sleep.
* * * *
A gentle knock on her bedroom door roused her from her slumbers. “Ruby, darlin’? You okay in there?”
Zeke. Guilt threatened to drown her. But why should she feel guilty? She was her own woman. She didn’t belong to Zeke or anyone else.
“I’m fine. Just taking a nap. Somebody kept me from sleeping last night…”
Zeke poked his head into the room. “Don’t blame me, you little fox!” A warm grin lit his amiable features. “You were the one who jumped me, as I recall.”
“And you really put up a fight, too,” Ruby countered, sitting up as he settled himself on the bed next to her.
“Yeah, well, why would I do that? I’m not crazy!” Before she could stop him, he swept her into one of his energetic kisses. Today he tasted like the Juicy Fruit gum he chewed while driving his cab. Ruby knew she should resist—Isaiah was upstairs and it was probably close to dinner time, too—but Zeke just felt too damn good. He wrapped his burly arms around her while his tongue burrowed into her welcoming mouth and his moustache tickled her nose. Before she knew it, his string-calloused fingers were busy under her sweater.
“Wait! Zeke baby, hold on!” Reluctantly, Zeke loosened his grip on her body. Desire buzzed through her. She tried to ignore it. “Isaiah…”
“I know, I know.” Ruby detected an uncharacteristic hint of irritation in her lover’s drawl. “The boy. But he’s busy doing his homework. He told me so when he answered the door.” He leant back a bit, eating her up with his eyes.
Despite her determination not to succumb to Zeke’s charm, Ruby’s nipples peaked and her pussy moistened. “You know how I feel, baby.”
“Yeah, I do. You’re just so hard to resist, lady.”
He looked pretty good himself. He wore his work clothes—trim navy blue chinos and a striped shirt with a button-down collar. The trousers weren’t as tight as the jeans he wore when he was off-duty, but they couldn’t hide the bulk of his hard-on. His eyes sparkled like sapphires under his bushy blond brows and a lock of his honey-coloured hair hung down over his forehead. She fought the urge to brush it back into place.
“I thought maybe I could join you two for dinner,” he continued. “Then maybe after, we can all watch a video or something.”
He didn’t say anything more, but she knew what he was thinking. After Isaiah was safe in his bed, maybe Zeke could spend some time in hers.
Ruby remembered her assignation with Remy—remembered the insane lust he’d inspired. It had been intoxicating, but scary too. For a moment, all she wanted was to say yes to Zeke’s unspoken question, to trade the risky promise of a stranger for more familiar pleasures. But she’d given her word to Remy. Anyway, what gave Zeke the right to barge in to her life, assuming she’d be available?
“We’d love for you eat with us,” she began, trying to be gentle. “But afterward, I’ve got a date.”
Zeke’s forehead knitted into a frown. “A date?” His voice was dark as gathering thunderclouds. “Who with?”
Ruby laid her hand on his arm. That was a mistake. The feel of his warm, firm flesh under the fine cotton made her want to take it all back—to swear that she wanted only him, to beg him to fuck her. “I don’t think you need to know,” she said, her eyes cast downward
She felt like such a traitor. Of course, they’d agreed when they began that their relationship should be non-exclusive. Still, she hadn’t been with anyone else, not for two years. Why should she, when she had a strong, sexy, generous man like Ezekiel Chambers?
But Remy…she’d never experienced anything like the magnetic pull she’d felt in his presence. She had to find out what it would be like to fuck him. To get him out of her system.
“Thanks for being honest,” Zeke said softly. “That’s something at least.”
“I’d never lie to you, baby. That’s just plain wrong. Otis taught me that. It’s just this one time, anyway.”
“You do what you need to do, Ruby. It won’t change how I feel about you.” He blinked once or twice, then stood up. “Guess I should go.”
“No, please—stay for dinner. Just pizza and salad, but we’d love to have you. I’m sure that Isaiah will want to tell you the big news about his band.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Ruby gave him a hug, fighting the urge to rub herself against the still-obvious lump in his groin. “Let’s go call Antonio’s.”
“You got someone to stay with the kid while you’re out?” Zeke asked, as Ruby retrieved the pizza menu stuck onto the refrigerator door.
“Um—no… He’ll be okay. It’s just a couple hours.” Ruby’s doubts resurfaced. Maybe she really should call Remy and cancel. Things were just too complicated…
“I’ll hang out here until you get back, then.”
“What?” Ruby stared at him, astonished and grateful. “You’re gonna babysit, while I go meet another man? What are you, some kind of saint?”
“Nah, I’m just a guy who loves you and wants you to be happy. I know you won’t be able to relax if Isaiah’s home alone.”
Ruby rewarded him with a kiss. What had she done to deserve him? “You know me too well, baby.”
“I do, darlin’. You’re like Skynard’s free bird. Ain’t nobody can put you in a cage.”
* * * *
Dinner was surprisingly comfortable. Isaiah chattered on about Spyder City and their upcoming gig. Zeke shared stories from the five years he’d spent on the road before he came north, p
laying in bars and roadhouses. Ruby talked about her father—brilliant, charming, and restless. “By the time he died, he’d visited every state,” she told them, “carrying the Chicago blues to the furthest corners of the country. Back then, everybody knew Jimmy Jones.” She didn’t mention how much she’d missed him, left behind with her mama for six months at a time while he had adventures and sang his heart out.
Every now and again, she’d catch Zeke looking at her with a wistful half-smile. Still, the way he teased her and joked with her son suggested that he wasn’t too distressed by her evening plans.
As it grew later, however, Ruby became increasingly nervous. While Zeke and Isaiah watched TV, she washed the dishes, then disappeared into her room to shower and change. She’d explained that she had an evening appointment, letting her son believe that it was business relating to the bar. This twist of the truth bothered her, but she could hardly tell the boy that she was meeting a man, could she? And she had met Remy in the club. He’d even talked about performing.
She deliberately avoided provocative clothing, choosing a batik skirt that flowed to her ankles, a long-sleeved Indian blouse, and a bright scarf to tie back her hair. Nevertheless, when she emerged from her room, Zeke gave an appreciative whistle.
“Stop it!” Ruby scolded, although she was secretly pleased by his reaction.
“Can’t help myself. You look gorgeous.”
“You always think I look gorgeous.”
“You do. It’s not my fault.” Zeke turned to the boy beside him. “Aren’t I right? Isn’t your mama beautiful?”
Isaiah agreed a vigorous nod. “Sure is!”
Ruby checked her watch. It was already ten-fifteen. Her stomach did somersaults. “Flattery will get you nowhere, young man. You should have been in bed a quarter of an hour ago!”