by Hilary Storm
He does.
“I’m not exactly sure, yet, but I’ve found that my first instinct is almost always the correct one. And of you, I am certain; I could shower you in the finest of everything and it wouldn’t ever come close to measuring up to what you have, are dying to freely give, selflessly, endlessly, to the luckiest of bastards. The one, who will come along, lucky in that he’s wise enough to get out of his own way long enough to recognize it. You. And cherish it.”
That was the most amazing thing anyone’s ever said to me, will ever say to me, but it came with a sting I know I’ll feel forever — a ridiculous burn of premature proportions — because he just made it amply clear that there’s zero chance that “lucky bastard” will be him.
Why the hell not? And why does that hurt so bad, so early in knowing him?
And again… why the hell not him?
“I don’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he forces a curt, humorless laugh. “More proof of your flawless soul. The likes of you could never make sense of the likes of me, sweet Lily. Get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”
Chapter Four
Trevor
She’s a vision, a rare treasure who knows not her value. A value which cannot be measured. A value which makes her invaluable.
And I… I am a bastard; a selfish, self-loathing masochist, who cannot help himself.
I do want her to be comfortable, gathering peace as we travel, but the pink silk? That’s for me. A temptation crafted for no other purpose than to torture myself. A beautifully wrapped package I will never be worthy of opening.
“Lily, don’t be afraid, darling girl. Lie down, close your eyes. Rest. No harm will come to you, in any way. I am, if nothing else, able to control myself.”
“I get it,” she snipes, as though offended, “loud and clear. No need to keep reminding me.”
“I don’t—”
“Understand? Same. How’s it feel? Not too good, right?”
Body language speaking loudest, she shrinks into her ensemble: arms crossed in front of chest, shoulders slumped, curled up in a defensive, protective little ball. “Don’t take this the wrong way…” Her wild eyes seek and snare mine. “Or do, I’m gonna say it regardless, since it’s driving me crazy! I am well aware of my shortcomings, Trevor Kincade. But, for your information, I’ve picked up on a few of yours too, mister. So… so…”
I consider myself an intelligent man, which is why I fake my pondering — via rubbing a hand over my mouth and chin, in hope of hiding my grin — while she authentically continues her own. Confirmation of my amused fascination would only work her up even more. And though I do so enjoy it, my goal in helping her relax before her upcoming battle is foremost, and genuine.
“I mean, really, who cruises down the road dressed in lingerie, Trevor? Subtle, very subtle. I put it on anyway though, happily, because it, you… you made me feel… pretty,” she admits. “And, not that it’s an option, ‘cause it’s so not, but, well… why the hell don’t you want it to be an option?”
“Remind me, please,” I manage without laughing, “when, exactly, I said anything of the sort.”
“Please.” She makes an unladylike, but cute nevertheless, sound of sarcastic disbelief. “It’s too late now. The window for patronization has closed. I appreciate the ride, shower, meal. I even appreciate this feels-like-melted-butter nightgown my silly ass has on, but none of that makes you any better than me. Richer? Yes. More… resourceful? Yes to that too. But not better. And, if you thought differently, why even bother?”
She’s had her say; released frustrations, most of which I suspect stem from her fear of the quickly approaching destination, but now it’s my turn. I move too fast for her to cower from, or stop me, sharing half her seat, and all her space. “I’ve not once thought, let alone said, that I think I’m better than you. In fact, had you understood what I told you before, you’d know it’s the exact opposite. And as for wanting you? Lily, you’re not a dumb woman, so don’t speak to the contrary. Of course I want you. How could I not? But, like you said, it isn’t an option. It’d be rather foolish of me to think I can change your mind, and more than rude to try… especially under the circumstances.”
Her head shakes once, sharp and fast, apparently doing the trick to clear it since she looks, rather than glares, into my eyes and merely breathes her realization. “You weren’t backhandedly insulting me. You really are a refined gentleman.”
It wasn’t a question, but I respond anyway, because it also wasn’t correct. “You met me only just today, and technically you’re a married woman. Lily, everything about you screams of the indisputable fact that those two things, among many others, would prevent you from ever allowing yourself to be fucked in the back of a car. And able to hear those screams, I would never try to persuade you otherwise. Which, ironically, answers your other big, repetitive question, why. That. Is. Why.”
The innocent confusion swimming in her doe eyes would undo a worthier man. So sweet, she is… I reach up to caress her cheek. “Any time you spend worrying over your worth or allure is wasted. From the moment you enter anyone’s line of sight, you’ve got them. Intrigued. Longing. Spellbound. Without knowing, or without any effort. I’m flattered, even more so shocked,” I continue, chuckling, “to hear that you’d want me to want you. Which, again, I do. Very much.”
Restraint pushed beyond its limits, I firm my hold on her cheek and cover her lips with mine. Savoring, swallowing her tiny gasp, and taking more. More of her unique flavor, her lazy-but-eager tongue, and shallow breaths. “Lily,” I murmur when I lean away, “that’s all for now, sweetheart. I couldn’t help myself, but now, I really must help myself. Resist. Open your eyes for me.”
A begrudged effort, she slowly complies, showing to me a revived spirit, a hope within her — the romantic she’d forgotten she’s always been suddenly reawakened — and guilt instantly consumes me.
God, but I’m the most selfish of bastards.
“Our journey’s set to end soon, once we’ve made sure you receive justice in court. But, I’ll leave you with all my information… should you ever find yourself in the mood to join me for another adventure.”
“You’d want to see me again?” she asks, before taming the whimsy in her voice, spearing me deeper… a reminder that what I say next must be done so clearly.
“I would love to.” I tuck a soft, golden strand behind her ear. “I could take you away for a weekend, anywhere you want, just the two of us. I’m confident we’d have a very good time.” I smile, pleased with the results — concise, polite clarity.
“Weekend getaways, huh? Kinda like… extended booty calls, when I’m in the mood?”
“Yes” — I laugh — “something along those lines.”
“Such a shame,” she tsks the same phrase I’d used earlier. “Divine, sexy, debonair words, tongue, and aura… all nothing more than a polished disguise for the cold, untouchable cynic underneath. You wax on and on about my virtue, then propose booty calls? Unbelievable. And out of the question.”
“Lily, please don’t be hurt, or internalize it. I didn’t say ‘booty call.’ Not only because I would never use such crude… slang, but because that’s not what I was suggesting. Not exactly. I truly enjoy spending time with you, and thrill in every new thing I learn about you. But yes, due to my schedule, and… predilections… our rendezvous will be only that. Notice, however, that I meant rendezvous in the plural,” I say with a smile. “I’d like to spend many a weekend in your company.”
Her chin juts up, chest out, and eyes take blaze with an oddly smug confidence. “You’re lying.”
“About?”
“All of it. The persona you emit, a fake, that you have to constantly work to achieve. The whole cool-and-uncaring thing when you’re anything but. And certainly, perhaps most of all, the easily obtained detachment. You’re barely able to fool yourself, and not fooling me a damn bit. You. Are. Lying.”
Left to
right, I shake my head and offer a smile that I pray reads as kind. “I assure you, I’m not. You’re different, that I freely confess; but not that different. And Lily, please, don’t consider this a challenge. If you do, you’ll only end up feeling hurt, foolish and used when—”
“When what? Another seemingly virtuous, innocent, pliable woman sits down beside you?”
“Oh, but you are full of enticing surprises, aren’t you?” I laugh, taking a moment to absorb every beautiful, genuine, ornery, clever thing about her. “Lily, hear me. I am too old, and of no desire, to change. I am also, however, finding myself more than a bit mesmerized by you. So, if you call, I will answer. Consider that, please, before you do. If you do.”
She pops a shoulder and disarms me with a brilliant, sure smile. “Guess we’ll see.”
Tap Out
By Hilary Storm
@Copyright 2017 Hilary Storm
All rights are reserved to the author. No part of this ebook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Tap Out
Chapter One
Kinsley
I should’ve known traveling to New Orleans with Mollie was a terrible idea the second she mentioned it. She’s just coming out of a three-year relationship and to say she’s ready to make up for lost time is a drastic understatement. Her ridiculous pouty lip when she asked me to ‘disappear’ just made me realize how low she’s willing to go to forget the giant asshole who once again fucked her over.
This empty stairwell should terrify me, but after all the crazy from tonight… I welcome the quiet. I even slip off my heels to avoid having to listen to the echo as I make my way to the roof top. Maybe I’ll be able to enjoy the city even more if I simply people watch and imagine the insanity of their night being more memorable than mine.
I prop open the door with a rock, remembering that the owner told us the door locks and would require a key to get back in. Since Mollie has the only set of keys, I’m extra careful to make sure I’m not locked up here for the night.
The rooftop is beautiful and obviously well taken care of by someone. Plants and string lighting give off the sense of privacy, yet with a potential party feel. I’m instantly wishing I had a place this serene to go at home.
Yelling and laughter interrupt my thoughts and send me searching for an opening on the railing to find the source of the noise coming from below. A group of people are slowly making their way down to Bourbon Street, all of them already sloppy drunk and acting hysterical. I’m not sure why I’m jealous of them, but I am. I don’t see a single worry on any of their faces and it’s apparent that any stress they may’ve had before they came here, isn’t on their mind tonight.
Glancing down at my phone, I see that it’s just barely after midnight. “Jesus, Kinsley… you sure know how to party.”
“She talks to herself.” A deep voice to my right startles me and almost makes me scream… not that anyone would know how to locate a screamer up here. Holding my phone against my chest, I search for the source behind the reason my adrenaline is out of control, only to find zero relief.
The soft lit silhouette of a shirtless man sprawled out on a lounge chair quickly becomes my focus. “Oh… sorry. I didn’t notice you there.” He relaxes even more, putting his hands behind his head while he stares at me, making me feel extremely awkward.
“I’ll let you make it up to me.” A bolt of nervous energy rushes through my body as I think about what he means. I’m not normally this weird when it comes to men. I’m going to blame the unusual night for my overly cautious reaction to him.
“I… I have to get back.” I begin to recoil and tiptoe backwards and attempt to dial 911 as I respond.
“You do realize that if I wanted to hurt you, it would already be done.” His words take me by surprise and I find myself staring at him when he resumes his resting position with his hands behind his head. The lights add a glow to his bare chest, allowing me to see some ink, but not enough for me to make out what kind of art he has on full display.
“What?” My tone is harsh as I try to figure out what he meant by that.
“Relax. I was just going to invite you to sit with me.” I should be worried, but for some reason I’m not. He has a very calm aura surrounding him and that’s something I take notice of right away.
“Uh… sit with you?” Kinsley… snap the hell out of it.
“That is… if you have time. I do remember you mentioning something about being a party animal.” He sits up and slides another lounge chair a little closer to his, opening it up as the metal scrapes across the concrete flooring.
“Very funny.” I don’t move any closer to him, still not sure if I want to entertain the idea of sitting with this guy.
“You know I could make a phone call and bring the party to you, if that’s what you really want.” He holds up his phone like he’s about to dial someone just before I stop him.
“No… I’m actually enjoying the silence.”
“You can sit with me… I promise not to touch you. In fact, I can’t.”
“Oh… you have a girlfriend?” I ask the obvious question, expecting him to tell me he does.
“Nope.”
“A wife?”
“Nope…”
“You gay?” Because in my experience, any man this hot is either taken or gay.
“Fuck no.” That got a rise out of him and made me smile.
“Did you swear off women or something?”
“Something like that.” I step closer, left with very little choice but to accept his offer. My other options, even though they sound intriguing, are much more terrifying as I hear another loud group of people walking by on the street below. Maybe spending some time with a guy that looks like pure sex will make me not want to kill Mollie for ditching me.
“That’s good, because I’ve sworn off men too.” I pretend that I’m not interested as I sit next to him and spread out to match his silhouette.
“You a lesbian?” I should’ve known that question was coming. I deserve it.
“Not yet, although I have considered testing out that life style if I have to deal with another dick in my life.” Before I can finish saying what I was trying to say… he flips the back of my chair level, sending me flat on my back before he climbs over me. My breath catches with him this close and it takes every ounce of self-control not to reach up and draw my nails over his back to persuade him to lower his body on top of mine.
“You saying you don’t prefer dick?”
“Uh… no. I actually like it.” Andddd my mind goes wild with all the things I should be saying as the words I want to say clash against all logic, creating absolute insanity. So, I chose to say nothing else.
He smells clean. Like fresh out of the shower clean. My eyes are pulled to his shoulders, watching them flex as he lowers himself just slightly before he pushes himself up again. His repetitive movement inflating the already wound up craving of an actual man to touch me in all the right ways. It’s been a bit since I’ve had any true relief in the sex department. That would require one to actually leave her apartment and do something besides work.
He slams me back to reality when he allows his hips to drop, grinding into mine and allowing me to feel the growing bulge just under the thin material of a pair of athletic shorts
. The thickness of his cock slides up my thigh and over my pelvic bone before he closes his eyes with a sharp exhale. He lowers his face to mine, breathing against my cheek while his hips continue to flex, sending us both into an alternative reality of what we thought would happen up here tonight.
He lets out a small moan before he allows his full weight to blanket me with the heat of his body. If you would’ve asked me if I’d do something like this twenty minutes before now, I would’ve told you no, but now I’m coming apart from the inside out, hoping he’ll move this to the next level and blow my mind.
His grip on the chair beside my head shifts as he raises his body in a push up once again. “Take out my cock.” Holy shit. A tiny glimpse of how stupid this is flashes through my mind and before I can acknowledge it, he’s coercing me again. “Reach in and grip it with your tiny fucking hands. Slide those silky fingers around it and then tell me you’re thinking about pussy when you do.” His deep whisper sends a spike of desperation through my body, giving me the strength and courage to do exactly what he says. Who am I to deny my curiosity what it wants?
“You said there’d be no touching.”
“No, I said I wouldn’t touch you. Good thing you didn’t make that promise.” With my eyes drawn to his, I slide a single hand between us until it’s under the elastic of his shorts. The tip is wet with proof that he’s turned on by all of this. I wrap my fingers around the width, noticing the multiple twitches under my grip. “Fuck.” He rolls his head back, extending his arms straight and allowing as much space as he can between us.
I slowly slide my hand up and over the tip, before I return to gripping and moving up and down the length of his still growing cock, using his own moisture as lube. Jesus, how big can he possibly get?
“What’s your name?” His question surprises me.
“Kinsley.” I’m still moving my hand over him when I slide the other one into his shorts and let my finger nails slide over his tight ass.