Closely Guarded Secret

by Money, Natalie

  I’m surprised at my sexual need and willingness to comply with his request. Since our first night together, my thirst for him grows stronger. I do as he asks, his hand skims down my skin, his fingers find my clit.

  “Mmmm,” I moan, not wanting him to stop.

  “Lower your seat,” he says. I lean my seat back as the scenery all but disappears.

  “That’s good. Pull your pants down to your thighs.” He commands, all the while never taking his eyes off the road. Keeping a steady rhythm, he slides two fingers in and out before coming back to my now erect and all too sensitive clit. I wish it were his mouth and tongue on me instead. My eyes close as my lungs expel exaggerated breaths of want and need for him.

  “Oh baby, you’re so wet and ready for me,” he breathes.

  His fingers continue their dance as I writhe beneath his expert touch. He pulls off at the next exit and keeps driving until we come to a deserted parking area. “Come on,” he says as he opens his door.

  What? Here? I look around and see nothing but woods. I hope there aren’t any wild animals around. Well, except for us. My door opens and he practically lifts me out of my seat. I have to pull up my jeans to avoid falling over as he leads me to the back of the car leaning me against it. His hands move inside my pants, grabbing onto my ass and squeezing, fueling the lustful kisses we can’t get enough of.

  “I need to taste you,” he says and in one swift move, I’m naked from the waist down. His thumb circles my clit as his warm mouth engulfs me. A deep, feral groan vibrates from his throat, as bolts of desire rage through my veins.

  There’s a primal, raw look in his eyes, stripping my defensed down to nothing. My body quivers and I’m ready to combust. “Bryce, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I scream. My pleading fall upon deaf ears. He stops until the shudders subside before his sinful but torturous tongue resumes.

  I’m on the verge, wild with need for release, but he holds back each time and I know it’s taking everything in him to control his own pleasure before I find mine. His ragged breaths against my skin mixed with gentle slow strokes of his tongue push me further into oblivion as my orgasm pulses through me in a spectacular display as I come undone. My knees buckle and I’m glad he’s supporting me.

  He holds me against him for a few minutes. Removing a condom from his pocket, he undoes his pants, “I want to try something, okay? If it’s too much, we’ll stop.”

  My body leans back against the car. There’s no time to answer before he’s kneeling down burying his face between my legs, his tongue delivering long, languid strokes. I’m exhausted, drained, and convinced he’s trying to kill me via orgasm. “Bryce, I can’t. Not again.” I whimper.

  “Yes you can, baby. Give me one more.” His hot breath floats over my sensitive clit and my body stiffens. The beginning of my release, crests like a wave and right before I fall, I’m flipped around, bent over the car, my arms and face flat on the hood of the trunk as he thrusts into me. When did he get undressed and put on a condom? I cry out and he immediately stops.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, concern laced in his voice.

  “Yes…yes, I’m fine, don’t stop. ” He starts slow but soon increases speed, while his fingers rub my sensitive clit.

  The sound of flesh pounding against flesh is all it takes for the crescendo to build. My body clenches around him as the spasms begin. “Oh my God, your cock feels so good,” I groan out.

  “Ohhh, Ali. Yeah, that’s it,” his breathy words command me, and I’m more than willing to comply.

  Flecks of white light explode behind my eyelids into a spectacular prism of color, matching the earth-shattering orgasm taking over as Bryce holds me tight. My hands desperately search for something to hold onto but make fists instead. It’s pure ecstasy in perfect form.

  I’m drained, panting from lust, want, need and now, exhaustion but he’s not finished. “Bend over a little more,” he breathes as he moves in and out. He’s so deep this way.

  “Ahhh . . .” I whimper and he stills.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Give me a minute.” He slows but never stops the rhythm. As tired as I am, I want him. “Again,” I say, and he does as I ask. My hands reach around, grabbing his ass, holding him to me.

  He moans softly, “I love being inside you.” He picks up the pace as I push back, meeting his every thrusts with renewed energy.

  “Bryce, fuck me. Yes, oh god, fuck me hard,” I scream, which makes him pound into me harder than I thought possible. I don’t know how, but it’s happening again and I can’t stop as everything tightens while my orgasm unleashes its power around his cock.

  After two hard thrusts, we both fall over the edge but Bryce’s booming voice overpowers my screams. “Fuck, Ali. I’m coming so hard,” he yells, grabbing my shoulders with both hands as he fills me. He collapses on top of me, his arms snakes around my waist; his head rests on my back. I’m boneless, lying there limp, with my legs about to give out. He lifts my hair away from my face and neck; in an instant, the light breeze, cools my skin.

  I grit my teeth to absorb the slight pain I feel as he pulls out. He helps me stand upright and makes sure I’m steady before letting go so we can finish dressing.

  “So, you’re an exhibitionist,” I say smartly as I button my jeans.

  “I couldn’t wait. There’s something about the night air that renews the senses,” he says with a wicked smile on his face.

  “Ready to go?” I say, walking to my side of the car. He grabs me into another heated kiss.

  “I could do this all day and night with you.”

  “You should come with a warning label. You’re impossible,” I tease.

  He lets out a hearty chuckle. “The most,” he responds, kissing me tenderly before opening my door. I’m sore and will definitely feel this tomorrow.

  “Do you have a busy work week?” he asks, placing kisses across my fingers as we cross the Golden Gate Bridge on our way back to the city.

  “We have a busy schedule, but nothing too intense. I’ve had enough of that to last me a while,” I say flatly, but not meaning to. Kings of Leon’s “Use Somebody” comes through the surround sound, and he squeezes my hand and gives me a sideway smile. The car glides smoothly toward downtown as he accelerates, taking us into the night.

  “I wish you’d stay with me tonight,” he says as he strokes my cheek. Maybe I should. I want to see him as much as possible in these next two weeks before my surgery.

  “I have work tomorrow. Mondays are the beginning of the work week, you know.”

  “You don’t say,” he jabs back.

  “Some of us go to work, while others sit back and watch the earth rotate. I prefer working.”

  “I know something you could sit on and rotate while I watch,” he says seductively.

  “I wouldn’t want to make it shift off its axis or anything. That could be dangerous.”

  “It’d be well worth it,” he devilishly replies.

  We walk hand in hand, closely together toward my front porch. “Bryce, this is the best weekend I’ve had in my whole life.” I always get lost in his gorgeous eyes.

  “It’s been the best for me, too. I wish it didn’t have to end. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, bringing his lips to mine and I feel that familiar zing.

  The way Bryce makes me feel exhilarates and scares me; two conflicting emotions at the same time. Will it always be this way? I’m out of my mind with desire for this man. Crazy desire. Not only did he seduce my mind and body, he also captured my soul. He’s intoxicating and I’m drunk on him. I’m only too happy to drink from his fountain and indulge in his sin. Pure, unadulterated, sin.

  I know Steven said in the beginning, all you want to do is have sex. He wasn’t kidding. Has Bryce turned me into a sex-craved nympho, or is this the real me? This is unfamiliar territory, but it’s a wilderness I’m ready and eager to explore with him. Once inside, I’m anxious he’s leaving, but it’s
for the best so I can get a handle on my feelings. I’m acting like a love struck puppy. I have to find the balance between wanting him all the time and not loosing myself.

  Upstairs, as I get ready for bed, I notice I have a missed call but have no idea whose number it is. I dismiss it from my mind and lie in bed, thinking about these past few weeks and what a cyclone it’s been. This is my heart’s desire. I want to take this chance with Bryce. At the same time, I want to stay true to myself. I don’t want to have any regrets. The past few years have empowered me to take this step, to let go and move forward toward this positive experience. This is what I want.

  I close my eyes and see his face: his blue eyes that hold the depths of the sea; his beautiful nose; his square, strong jaw; his mouth; his smile; his lips. Oh, those lips. Those wonderful, luscious, full lips encasing mine. That image brings me peace, comfort, and solace as I fall asleep. I know I can’t predict the future, but I can stop thinking the worst is going to happen.

  CHAPTER 28

  Steven’s engrossed in the newspaper, while I make some cereal.

  “Want some?” I offer.

  “No, I already ate,” he says, then puts the paper down and continues, “I forgot to tell you, but next week is when I’ll be in LA. I’m going to tell them this morning I can’t go.”

  “Steven,” I look at him and he knows what I’m about to say.

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it,” he says, holding up his hands.

  “My mom will be here. These surgeries are done all the time. I’ll be fine.”

  He looks hurt. “I need make sure you’ll be okay, that’s all.” The worry in his voice is evident but nothing I say will put his mind at ease.

  “I will,” I say, trying to sound courageous. “So go on your business trip. You have Mom’s number. You can call or she’ll call you. Either way, just go.”

  “Fine. But if something happens, I’ll never forgive you,” he warns, but I know it’s his defense mechanism.

  “Steven, I’ll be alright. Do I need to call Sampson?” When he gets like this, Sampson’s the only one who can bring him back into focus.

  “No. Anyway, I have to go so I won’t be late. It’s nasty out there, so please be careful.” His voice is calm and I know he’s moved away from the ledge of panic.

  “I will.” I smile at him fondly. “Have a good day at work.”

  “You too.” He makes a mad dash for his car, getting soaked in the process.

  I finish my cereal, grab my things, and head toward the door, when my phone rings. It’s the same number as last night.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. I am trying to reach Alixandra Quinn.”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  “This is Detective Curtis Reed with the Harris County Sheriff’s office in Houston, Texas.”

  My heart stops.

  “Th . . . th . . . this is she,” I stumble over my words.

  “Ms. Quinn, you’re a hard woman to track down. We’ve been trying to locate you for a month now.”

  “Oh? A lot of things have changed over the past ten years. How may I help you, detective?”

  “I’m calling about Thomas Bane.” My stomach churns upon hearing his name and I know I’m going to throw up. I try to remain calm and keep my nerves in check, but it doesn’t work.

  “Could you hold for a moment, please?” I say, not giving him time to reply.

  I toss my phone on the chair as I run to the kitchen. Grabbing the trashcan, I throw up. I feel smothered by the heaviness of the emotions now rushing at me like a raging flood from where they’ve been lying dormant, dammed up, for all of these years.

  As I walk back toward the living room, I take deep breaths along the way. In the most natural voice I can muster I say, “Thank you for holding. You were saying?” My stomach is still queasy.

  “Ms. Quinn, Thomas Bane was up for early parole and was released. Since there was no communication from you stating why he shouldn’t be, he was.” The hair on my neck prickles, my body tingles as goose bumps appear in their wake. My knees buckle and I sink to the floor.

  “How long has he been out?” I try to keep a handle on my fear.

  “A little over a month. He was released due to exemplary behavior. A model prisoner, or so they say.”

  “So, why are you calling me?” My voice cracks as I ask the question.

  “Like I said, it took us a while to track you down, Ms. Quinn.” He hesitates. “He hasn’t checked in with his parole officer for a month. He’s also managed to take off his ankle monitor. By the time the officers arrived, he was gone. A few weeks ago, his cellmate came forward with some disturbing information, which we take seriously.”

  “What kind of information?” I ask, trying not to sound alarmed.

  He hesitates again. “We have reason to believe he’s coming after you.”

  A lump in my throat constricts my airway. I can’t breathe and put my head between my knees to keep from hyperventilating but I feel it building.

  “Ms. Quinn? Are you there?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, barely audible.

  “We’re working with the FBI office in San Francisco. I’ve passed on your information to an Agent Mark Spencer, he’ll contact you.”

  “Why is the FBI involved?” I ask. I want to believe this is all a dream and I’ll wake up soon but I know it’s not.

  “Mr. Bane was implicated in a robbery here a couple of weeks ago. He’s committed another felony while still on parole here in Texas. Since we believe he’s already crossed state lines, the FBI’s involved. He’s made his intent clear that he’s coming after you.”

  “I see.” I force myself off the floor, pacing like a caged animal, back and forth around the room.

  “Ms. Quinn, my intent is not to scare you, but I urge you, don’t take this threat lightly and I hope you’ll cooperate fully with Agent Spencer. Bane went into great detail, which I don’t have the authority to share, with his cellmate.” I’m in utter disbelief at what I’m hearing. “As far as we know, he doesn’t know where you are. Make sure you’re aware of your surroundings at all times. Anything out of the ordinary, call the police immediately.”

  “Okay.” The despair in my voice is clear.

  “We’ll find him, Ms. Quinn. Remember, anything out of the ordinary.”

  “I will,” I answer meekly.

  “I’ll touch base with you soon. Is this the best number to reach you?”

  “Y . . . yes,” I stutter.

  “All right then. Take care. Goodbye, Ms. Quinn.”

  “Goodbye, detective.” My arms clutch around my trembling body for protection as I melt to the floor in a fetal position.

  Please god, no. Please don’t let this be happening. Long buried emotions hit me as tightness clinches my chest. A painful lump forms in my throat, as the heat behind my eyelids turn to heavy tears. Why is this happening now? I was letting go of my old fears and now this new terror comes along.

  I can’t do this. Not again. I knew he’d get out one day. The fear of him coming after me never completely went away, just buried deep. I lie on the floor in my own despair. Images of that horrific night come rushing back, flooding my mind. All of the emotional and physical pain I suffered, was at the hands of Thomas Bane.

  Sporadically placed street lamps provide the only light in the park. The smell of fresh cut grass invades my nostrils as we walk along the dimly lit walkway, small rocks and pinecones crunch under our feet. The wind picks up, blowing leaves across the ground into the air in a swirling dance. The pavilion’s old but will protect us from the approaching storm.

  “Thomas, what’s the matter? Why are you acting this way?” I put my arms around his neck. He reaches up and grabs my wrist so hard I feel the bruises forming. “I love you so much. We can work this out. Don’t you want this baby?” He looks like I slapped him and takes a few steps back. His body tense, hands balled into fists, his eyes gleam with hatred
.

  Taking a menacing step toward me he asks, “You think I want to be with you? You think I want to be a father at eighteen?” His voice is eerily low, void of emotion.

  “You said you loved me. If you give us a chance we can make it work.”

  “Make it work,” he says weighing the words. It’s a statement, not a question. I’m frightened by the contorted look on his face, like he’s in severe pain. He continues walking until he’s in front of me. “No, Alixandra, we won’t. You and that baby are not gonna ruin my future. You sure as hell didn’t get the message when I never called back.” A flash of lightening illuminates the shadow of trees behind him, enhancing his sinister presence. I want out of here and away from him. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want our child.