Spent (Wrecked #2)

by Charity Parkerson

  “Carmen has talent.” Bailey’s gaze shot to the opposite wall, seeking the owner of the quietly spoken words. Sol stood with his arms crossed, seemingly relaxed for someone who’d obviously been enjoying the show. Even still, Bailey’s lust didn’t relent. She was too far gone to back down and too close to the edge to care. “I can hear her thoughts,” he added, as if this was an everyday occurrence. His eyes fell closed and his chest expanded as if he was inhaling the woman’s emotions. “She thinks your pussy tastes like a cherry turnover. It’s taking every ounce of her willpower not to finger herself. Your obvious enjoyment has her soaking wet.”

  Sol’s voice and claim added fuel to the need clawing at her insides. As if sensing her craze, the tongue flicking across her clit increased in speed. Bailey gasped. It was right there. Her muscles tensed. Sol snapped his fingers. The woman disappeared. A cry of denial tore from Bailey’s throat. She squeezed her eyes closed against the loss. When they reopened, Sol stood over her. She never heard him move. His black eyes watched her, searing her soul.

  Bracing one knee on the mattress, he leaned in and captured her lips with his. God help her. She let it happen, incapable of stopping. There was lust and then there was whatever this was. She expected Sol to ravage her mouth, the way his stare promised. Instead, it was achingly sweet, forcing her to be the demanding one. She sucked on his tongue, tasting cinnamon and wanting… everything. His touch. Someone to fuck. The world.

  His palm felt like fire when it landed beneath her navel. Like a spring wound too tightly, Bailey came. The orgasm rocked her, ripping at her throat and making her muscles spasm. Sol’s breath hitched. She felt it against her tongue. His teeth sank into her bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. Another wave of ecstasy rolled through her. This time, when his tongue met hers, it was animalistic. The tangy flavor of copper mixed with the spicy heat of cinnamon.

  A roar rent the air, shaking the walls with its fury. Sol slowly pulled away as if the apartment wasn’t vibrating around them with the force of an earthquake. Fear might have been late to the game, but once it set in, Bailey couldn’t breathe from its choking hold. Sol appeared even less human than before. His fingers stroked her ribs. The walls shook harder.

  “Mine.” The single word filled the air, sounding demonic, and nearly piercing Bailey’s eardrums. Her insides shook. A small smile touched Sol’s lips. Bailey’s lungs seized. The harder she fought to breathe, the darker the room became. A crack formed in the ceiling. “You are mine.”

  The world snapped into focus. Everything shifted back to normal. Once again, Bailey was alone. The binds were gone from her wrists with no evidence of having ever existed. Her familiar ceiling hovered above her head, free of any cracks. The clothing she’d donned that morning still covered her body. Bailey shook her head, attempting to get her bearings.

  God, she hated it here. It seemed no matter how hard she tried or how long she'd been in this place, she still couldn't tell what was real and what was imagined. The walls no longer pulsed around her, if they ever had. Turning on her side, Bailey stared at the blank white wooden surface that had been shaking only moments earlier, and replayed the entire scene in her head. Her body still burned with the last embers of her explosive orgasm. Her face heated at the memory of her wanton behavior. Pressing her thighs tighter together, she tried beating back the phantom sensation of soft hair tickling her inner thighs and the heat of the other woman's mouth covering her pussy.

  Sometimes, Bailey wondered what type of person she truly was on the inside where no one could see. Sol said she didn't belong here. What had he meant? Flopping onto her back, Bailey growled at the empty room. It was possible he didn't exist, and they hadn't met. Therefore, he never said those words at all. If he had, then there was no way he truly knew about the dirty sex fiend living inside her or he never would've claimed she shouldn't be here. Perhaps he'd meant she should've ended up someplace worse. Was there a pervert purgatory? This was all Lucien's fault. She didn't know how, but it was.

  “My brain tells me he’s an evil man. The pressure in my chest says something different. When he looks at me, my body doesn’t care about the truth or reason. It only wants his touch.”

  —Bailey’s Journal, B.D.

  Chapter 3

  Then…

  Things seemed brighter than they had a day earlier. No dreams had marred her sleep and when she awoke, Bailey experienced a full five minutes of relief from her thoughts. When they hit, instead of the usual dark memories swallowing her, mortification owned her. Even as Bailey’s face burned as she relived the night before, a smile stretched her lips and made her cheeks ache. She’d needed that moment out of time, escaping herself.

  Derringer winked as she came through the door. She’d seen more than one woman fall over her feet to get to the sexy, dark-haired, and green-eyed tattoo artist who worked the day shift. Unfortunately for all the women of the world, he was most decidedly gay. For Bailey, it had been a blessing. Around him, she was free. It didn’t hurt that his perfect ass and sweet smile were a joy to look at.

  “Wow. They got the mess from last night’s drive-by cleaned up fast. Usually, it takes the people in this neighborhood weeks to fix a broken window.”

  A line appeared between Derringer’s brows even as he leaned in, giving her a one-armed bear hug. “There was a drive-by last night? Huh. I hadn’t heard, but I don’t doubt it. There’s always some shit going down here.” His smile kicked up a notch. “Of course, that just makes this the perfect area for people to stumble into, high as hell, and ready for their next ink.”

  “Shhh,” Bailey said, swatting him away. “That kind of talk will get us shut down.” She cut her eyes at him and winked. “Even if it is true.” They both roared with laughter. Derringer was the first to catch his breath. “What are you planning on getting into tonight?”

  A hum rose in Derringer’s throat. “Sexy chocolate just moved in next door.”

  Bailey covered her ears. “Nope. Don’t want to know. Regretting I asked.”

  Derringer’s laughter followed him to the door. Bailey smiled at the sound. As if he knew she was no longer covering her ears, Derringer spun right before leaving. “Prude.”

  Since he said it with love, Bailey returned the endearment. “Whore.”

  Derringer’s dimples were full force as he backed out the door. “You should try it sometime.” With a final kiss blown her way, he was gone. Thank goodness, since Bailey could feel her confessions rising to her lips. To the grave. She was taking the night before to her grave. The bell above the door jingled. Bailey glanced up, ready to spar more with Derringer, only to find Lucien filling the doorway. His gorgeous smile took her breath.

  “I thought he’d never leave.”

  In her surprise, Bailey said the first dumbass thing to come to mind. “You’re back.”

  “Yeah, well,” Lucien said, sounding a little shy. “I didn’t get my tattoo.”

  Bailey absently touched her cheeks at the unfamiliar ache growing there. This man. He made her mush and she couldn’t stop smiling. She cleared her throat, trying to sound unaffected, even if she didn’t look it. “As it happens, you’re in luck. My appointment book is completely clear for the night.”

  Lucien made a show of flipping the sign to “closed” behind him before turning the lock. “I’ve changed my mind about the ink.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t get started on it last night,” Bailey said, biting back her laughter. It wasn’t every day a sexy man locked her inside her place of employment. Lucien’s eyes flashed with mischief as he closed the distance between them.

  “I’ve decided I want something else entirely.”

  Bailey’s voice sounded every bit as turned on as she felt when she found it. “What’s that?”

  “You, or more specifically, your pussy on my lips.”

  Clasping her hands behind her back, Bailey tried her best to keep from jumping on him right then. “You’re going to get me fired. As much as I’m kicking
myself for saying this, I need this job.” Was that her still talking? Bailey wanted to slap her own face.

  “I won’t let you get fired. Promise,” he added, making it so easy for her to trust him. Just as he said, he didn’t get her fired that night, or the next, or the one after that.

  * * * * *

  “The doctors tell me you only exist in my mind.” Bailey swallowed past her fear, adding, “They say you’re someone I’ve made up, because I can’t accept the reality of what I’ve done.”

  The affection shining in his dark eyes caused an unfamiliar sensation in her stomach. No one had ever cared about her. At least, not since her mother’s death.

  “What do you think?”

  Bailey shrugged. “My mind plays tricks on me. What if you’re not real?” Panic rose in her chest at the idea. What if he wasn’t? Maybe she was sitting in her room, staring into nothing and having a conversation with herself. Why was life so confusing? Reality should be easier than this. Sometimes, she fought the urge to carve her eyes out. They were liars. They saw things that weren’t there. Made her do things she couldn’t take back. Her heart raced. Her lungs fought for life-giving oxygen, but her blood pumped too fast to deliver.

  Warmth engulfed her hands. When had he moved closer? “Can you feel me?”

  Bailey nodded. “You’re always so warm.”

  A wicked smile touched his lips. “It’s hot where I come from. Now close your eyes.” As always when he spoke, Bailey obeyed. His hands slid higher until his fingers skimmed the insides of her arms at the elbow. “If you can see something, feel it and taste it,” he added, skimming her lips with his and nearly stopping Bailey’s heart, “then it’s real. Even if it’s only in your mind.”

  A loud knock jarred Bailey awake. She jumped from the couch, searching the room for the sound. In her confusion and half-awake state, it took her a full minute to realize someone was knocking on the front door. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Bailey moved to answer. The first sight of Lucien lit her from the inside. She had to stop herself from leaping into his arms. Six months of him hadn’t lessened the sensation one iota. If anything, it had grown. Unfortunately, he didn’t look as happy to see her.

  “Have you been crying?”

  Bailey took a step back, fighting the urge to swipe at her cheeks and check for stray tears. Damn, she hated sleeping. Why hadn’t they invented a cure for it yet? “I need a shower,” she said, avoiding his question. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve tried a little harder.”

  “You look beautiful as you are.” Taking a step closer, Lucien’s expression turned sly as he kicked the door closed behind him. “May I join you?”

  Bailey’s body responded instantly to Lucien’s offer. Even as her nipples hardened and sex quivered, Bailey shook her head. “It’s nothing personal, but I need to shave my legs. If you’re in there with me, it won’t get done.”

  “What if I did the shaving?”

  Her first reaction was no. Lucien looked so hopeful, and he’d let go of his question about her crying. The rebuff died on her tongue. “I don’t know. Why would you want to do such a thing?”

  The way Lucien’s eyes flashed as he prowled toward her made Bailey’s mouth go dry. “You and me, soaking in hot water. Our skin slipping against one another. Me trying something new. You trusting me with something this intimate. Should I go on?”

  As much as Bailey wanted all those things, she also needed to be realistic. “My tub isn’t big enough for all that.”

  “Mine is.” Bailey stopped breathing at the claim. He’d never offered to bring Bailey into his space before. “Grab your stuff.”

  Biting back her excitement, Bailey held up one finger. “Give me one minute.”

  “Make it thirty seconds. I’ve missed you,” Lucien called at her back, making her heart soar and her feet move faster than ever before.

  *

  Lucien made the offer without a single plan in mind. He hated bending reality for Bailey, but once the idea of enjoying a bath with her took root, Lucien needed to make it happen. Bailey’s expression fed the flames. The longing written on her face called to him on a level untouched before now. No one had ever hungered for him the way Bailey did. With a bit of inventiveness and a push to her mind, Lucien found a place for them to go for the night. Bailey eyed the apartment with interest.

  “I guess ferry drivers make decent money.”

  He had no idea. Maybe he should’ve toned down the elegance of the place a tad. “I do okay.”

  A rueful smile touched Bailey’s lips. “That was rude. I’m sorry.”

  Lucien tossed his keys on the table by the door and shrugged. “You should get naked to make it up to me.”

  Instead of laughing as he expected, Bailey held his stare and unsnapped the button on her jeans. His mouth went dry. She pushed them down her hips. The air thinned. It didn’t matter that he didn’t need to breathe. Lucien still went lightheaded as Bailey tugged her shirt over her head. No one had ever gotten to him. Bailey’s effect never lessened. In an instant, the truth slammed into Lucien. His lips moved, shaping the confession before his brain caught up.

  “I’m in love with you.”

  With his words still hanging between them, Bailey slowly lowered her arms. Even though Lucien hadn’t known what to expect, the panic growing in Bailey’s expression wasn’t it. When she finally spoke, her voice shook. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Lucien shook his head. “Since I’ve never told anyone I love them, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think it’s customary you say it back.”

  Her gaze shot toward the door and she tried covering her nude body, making him wonder if she was about to make a run for it. “Um, this is the first time I’ve been to your apartment and you never even talk about your work.”

  For some reason he couldn’t explain, Lucien caught himself smiling. “I drive a ferry. It’s pretty boring stuff. Other than the fact it keeps us apart way too much, there’s not much to tell.”

  Bailey shrugged; the fear in her eyes lessened a hair. “Still. Sometimes, I think we don’t know each other at all.”

  A full-blown smile exploded across Lucien’s face. She did something to him. Always had. “We’ve been seeing each other for six months. Where did you think this was headed?” Showing a hint of daring, he took a step closer. “Twenty-four weeks of sleeping in your arms every chance I get and counting the minutes until I see you again when I can’t. I don’t want to be anywhere else. Do you?” Bailey shook her head. He took another step closer. “Then tell me you love me,” he coaxed.

  To his surprise, tears filled Bailey’s eyes. “You don’t know me. Not really. It’ll break my heart when you realize I’m not who you think, and you take it all back.”

  Reaching out, he snagged Bailey’s waist and hauled her against him. “Let me worry over what I know and don’t know.” Brushing his fingers down one of the many scars lining the inside of Bailey’s arm, he added, “Maybe I’m aware of more than you think.”

  Bailey’s voice turned breathless. “Or maybe you know nothing at all.”

  Her mouth said one thing while her body said another. She loved him, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Lucien could feel it. He didn’t need the words. “It’s okay, Bailey. You don’t have to love me back, but you do have to kiss me.”

  She didn’t budge. Instead, she shook her head while staring hungrily at his mouth and making his dick beg for her attention. “No.”

  “That’s harsh. I tell you how I feel and now you won’t even kiss me.”

  Bailey’s gaze shifted, moving to hold his stare. “No. Not that. It’s not okay for me not to say it, because I do love you too.”

  Lucien had truly believed his lies up until that moment. As the words left Bailey’s lips, he recognized how much he needed them. Bailey thought he knew nothing about her. In truth, he understood more about her than any person on the planet. He was the stranger. The liar. The night he’d chosen to save her, his act had been hero
ic for reasons she would never understand. Not the saving her life part. In death, they’d never be apart. By not escorting her to her rightful place, he’d risked a fate much worse than death. One even he couldn’t fathom. If anyone ever learned of what he’d done or the purely selfish reasons behind it, his fate would be endless and horrible beyond understanding. Bailey loved him. Whatever happened, it was worth it.

  “I’m sure I should care about getting cleaned up and shaving my legs, but I really don’t anymore.”

  “We’ll do it later. Right now, I have this overwhelming desire to hold you.” He did. All the way through his soul, all Lucien wanted was to climb into bed and tuck Bailey into his side.

  Bailey nodded. “Take off your clothes, though. You know, just in case.”

  Lucien managed a solemn nod, even though, inside his head, he crowed with laughter. “Agreed. You know, just in case.”

  *

  Just in case lasted ten minutes. Ten minutes might’ve been a generous assessment of time. Possibly, it was more like thirty seconds, but no one was counting anyhow. Bailey was equally certain; it may have been her fault. That is, if taking his cock to the back of her throat the instant they’d hit the sheets had anything to do with it. It was Lucien’s fault. He tasted delicious. Sometimes, Bailey swore the man dipped himself in chocolate before coming to see her. When he was near, her taste buds tingled with awareness and her mouth watered. Her girlie bits begged for attention because they knew what he could do.

  With her lips locked around his dick, Lucien shoved one leg between hers. Not an ounce of shame crept in as Bailey rode it while tightening her throat around his member. Her juices coated his leg. The sight only fueled her. One day soon, she’d look back on this moment and her face would ignite. For now, Bailey craved the mindless pleasure. Every tug of her clit had her increasing the suction on Lucien’s dick. The sounds he made. His smell. Everything sent her into a frenzy.