ROMANCE: Mr. Mystery: (New Adult Bad Boy Romance) (Contemporary Mystery Short Stories)

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ROMANCE: Mr. Mystery: (New Adult Bad Boy Romance) (Contemporary Mystery Short Stories) Page 74

by Viva Fox


  The two then proceeded to tear into me without a pretense of gentility, pounding my pussy with a fury that I heretofore could not have imagined. Stuttering and jackhammering up against my cunt and filling me with enough fucking sensation to drive me up the wall.

  I savored the hot, sticky sliding of their shafts up against one another inside me, and when at last I feared I could take no more of their vaginal agony they slammed into me one final time. Careening insanely deep up my cunt, and sending me flailing over the edge. Both of them began to ejaculate at an insane rate, their cocks throbbing and spilling out a gush of hot, molten sperm all over my inside, pulse after pulse after pulse of the sweet, sticky stuff, filling me up, and sending me into the fucking heavens above with orgasm.

  I moaned and groaned and shook from tit to toe with climax, stars flashing before my eyes and every nerve in my swollen body twitching like mad. And as I flew up to the ceiling of all carnal pleasure, I somehow knew internally, without a doubt, that no matter which of these men turned out to be the real father, I could rest assured that my baby would end up in good hands.

  THE END

  A Business Affair

  “Did you read this article, Marie?” Meg asked from behind me.

  I knew which one she was talking about without turning around. Rinsing the last of the dishes I took my time setting them aside to dry, and wiped my hands on a towel. Forcing a smile I turned around and came to stand behind Meg’s chair. I was drawn to Jack Lawson’s grainy black and white image looking up from the newspaper.

  “I read it.” I said. Meg’s eyes were on mine, no doubt trying to gauge my reaction.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “About what?” I shrugged.

  “Well I just figured you would want to try and see him.”

  “To what end?”

  “Oh I don’t know, maybe to tell him about-“She gestured to the other room where Will sat watching cartoons.

  I sighed and looked back down to the picture. It was an old one, one I’d seen a few other times. He was boarding a plane, looking back over her shoulder with his political smile fixed in place. Even through the distortion of the newsprint I could see beyond to his handsome features, fresh in my mind. In some respects it was hard to believe 3 years had passed since we were together. Other days it felt like a lifetime ago.

  “It says here he’ll be in town scouting locations for a campaign office. That’s good, right? That means he’ll be back in town again.” She smiled. It was a hopeful smile and I was grateful for a friend who could supply the optimism I was lacking. I sat beside her and picked up my coffee.

  “You seem to forget that there was a reason for not getting in touch with him in the first place. None of that has changed.”

  “You mean that his mother is a snobby old cow?”

  I laughed at Meg, never one to mince words. “Yeah, there’s that. Plus I don’t want to know what fathering an illegitimate child with his personal assistant will do to his political future. That’s a political scandal gold mine. I didn’t want to lay that on him then and I still can’t do that to him now.”

  Meg waved her hand at me, haphazardly folding up the paper. She turned in her chair to face me and placed a hand on mine, a sure fire sign she was going to use her serious voice. I smiled in anticipation of whatever warped nugget of advice she was about to give me.

  “Marie, honey, you’re thinking about this all wrong. This isn’t about what you think he wants, or what you think is best. It’s about what you feel.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. Next she’ll be reading my horoscope and taking me to her palm reader.

  “No, seriously. You can’t sit there and honestly tell me that a big part of you doesn’t want to see him again. That you don’t want to tell him he fathered a child, one who has an attitude as big as his dads. It’s not like you two parted on bad terms or anything. I think he deserves to know.”

  “That’s true, but if he was willing to walk away back then, before either of us knew I was pregnant, then I have to believe he would have wanted to walk away if he had known. Maybe he wouldn’t have because he felt obligated to stick around, but I didn’t want him like that.”

  “A lot of time has gone by. You don’t know what he wants.”

  I nodded absently. Meg and I had been friends for years, and she had been there with all her sage advice when Jack and I started seeing each other, when he decided to move to Washington, when I found out I was carrying his child. Because of that she considered herself an expert on the topic.

  “Besides, people have a way of bumping into one another. It’s a small world and all that. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ran into him before you knew it.” Meg said before she got up and dumped the dregs of her cup down the sink. With a smug smile, Meg grabbed her purse and wagged her fingers at me, leaving for work out the back door.

  I shook my head and started for the living room to get Will ready for daycare. Sometimes I hated being neighbors with my best friend. Especially when she was right.

  *****

  The restaurant was especially slow for a Thursday, and the day dragged on. Picking at the gum stuck to the bottom of the tables gave me loads of time to let my mind wander, and it always seemed to come back around to Jack. Thanks, Meg.

  My mind could vividly replay every sequence with stunning clarity. The first time I met him when I interviewed for the position of his assistant. The long evenings spent working, trying to deny the attraction we both felt, even when my resolve was weak. The night we finally both gave in, too exhausted to keep up the farce that we wanted to keep it professional. I let myself go back there, to all the memories that I usually held back. I savoured every inside joke, each brush of his knuckles over my cheek, every time he held me close.

  Locked in the privacy of the bathroom on my lunch break, I saved my favorite memories. The ones I couldn’t allow myself to relive in the hum of the restaurant. I lowered the seat and sat down, and let myself travel back to that first night. I closed my eyes and I could hear the deep rumble of Jack’s voice in my ear. He was leaning over my shoulder, both of us studying the documents on his desk.

  The front of his thigh brushed against me as he leaned forward to indicate something. I stilled, mindful of him so near. I was holding my breath, waiting for him to move back again, but he didn’t. Instead his face hovered near mine, close enough to feel his breath on my cheek. He stayed like that for what seemed like forever, hesitating.

  My skin trembled, waiting in anticipation for his next move. I remembered hoping that this would be the night that the tension broke and we gave in to each other. I had been so exhausted from pretending otherwise. As the memory faded in until it was as clear as on that night, my body was washed in the same feeling of anticipation.

  Even now I could feel my flesh aching for his touch, liquid pooling at my core. I inched my hand up my leg, under the polyester skirt to my underwear, damp to the touch. Pulling them aside, my fingers found the source of my heat and I stroked myself, encouraging the rush of adrenalin that began pumping through me.

  I let myself think of Jack’s hands and the first touch of them to my hip as we remained frozen in place at his desk. His hands grabbed me firmly, not a gentle caress, and I willed him to not move away, not deny me this time. And he didn’t. His hands curved along my hip and down to my ass. His actions were coarse, almost crude. I welcomed it.

  After all these months I wouldn’t have been able to stand tender or gentle. All the close encounters and almost had me wound too tightly. The rough pull of his hands as he seized my skirt and jerked my underwear down was a delicious contrast to his usual mild manner, his polished smile, his tailored suit.

  I recreated the moments of anticipation before Jack took me, spreading my legs wider in the narrow stall, letting my knees fall open and touch the cold metal walls. My fingers sped up as the rasp of his zipper echoed behind me. My heart beat faster, as it had three years ago when I felt him moving behind me. />
  He had his cock in his hand, the smooth tip pushing against me from behind. I had bent over his desk as I had envisioned doing dozens of times before. With my forearms resting on the glossy wood and my skirt bunched around my waist I hadn’t cared what a cliché I was. I wanted to feel him inside me and it didn’t matter where or how.

  Rubbing my clit with my thumb, I slipped two fingers into my wet core and relived the moment when Jack thrust into me, no priming, no words exchanged. None was needed. Months of foreplay was more than enough. I accepted him wholly, welcoming his length with a low moan of pleasure. My wet fingers kept time with the memory of his hips. They thrust into me, unyielding, until I could no longer use my arms for resistance.

  Jack gripped onto my hips, holding me firm to him, and continued his driving efforts. The pressure inside me continued to build until I was reaching my peak. Jack’s fluid movements were ceaseless and my body thrummed until I was crying out in release, my body limp under his hands. The roar of Jack’s own shuddering release was loud in my head. In the bathroom stall my probing fingers stilled, wet from a quiet, unsatisfying orgasm.

  I leaned back against the cold porcelain and let my breathing slow. I could remember many different times we had been intimate, some sweet and gentle, some rough, but that one was my favorite. The hours of fantasizing, on both our parts as it had turned out, finally came to fruition that night. For four months after that we stole away every chance we got, up until the day he moved. Then I was back at square one, fantasizing about him all over again.

  *****

  I sighed and I looked around the disaster that was my living room. The end of day routine was upon me again and I began gathering toys off the floor. A week had gone by and despite Meg’s insisting that it was only a matter of time before Jack and I crossed paths, I had yet to decide what to do about him. Though I was sure we didn’t run in anywhere near the same circles anymore- Jack being a hopeful for the Governor’s seat and me barely scraping together enough for my mortgage payment- I had to admit that Meg had a point. At some point down the road it was bound to happen.

  I dumped the armful of toys into Will’s toy box and played out all the scenarios in my head. If I ever did run into him what would I say to him? What if Will was with me?

  I could move.

  No, I couldn’t afford to start over somewhere, and besides, that seemed a little extreme. But I also couldn’t spend every minute I was out looking over my shoulder.

  I scrubbed at the mystery goo on the underside of the coffee table like I was going to beat an epiphany out of it. In the back of my mind, though, I knew there was only one thing that I could do. I had to tell Jack about Will.

  In some ways it probably would have been easier to tell him when I had found out. It wouldn’t have been hard to get a hold of him, Jack had left voice messages and sent me emails after he moved. I hadn’t returned any of them. Meg thought I was an idiot.

  But I loved Jack. I never told him so, but I did. And more so I respected him and his big dreams. Jack was so very driven and focussed when it came to his career. And sex. I admired him for that and I knew what the news of my pregnancy would have done to those ambitions.

  The guilt of keeping it from him didn’t go unnoticed, though.

  It was a little easier when I didn’t think I would ever see Jack again. Only sometimes would I think of all the things he was missing out on, the memories I had robbed him of. But then I would remember that he lived three states over and he wouldn’t have been able to take part in them anyways. I found quite a few ways to justify away the guilt.

  But now we were sharing the same city again, and I didn’t think my conscience could justify keeping Will from him anymore. If I told Jack and he decided not to be a part of Will’s life then that would be the end of it. Life would go on as it had been. Any other possibility and I would have to figure it out when I crossed that road.

  I decided to move fast, the resolve still fresh. The next day, with a pep talk and babysitting services from Meg, I got in my old beater and headed downtown. The radio was playing a fast song, so I cranked it hoping the sound of the music would drown out the voice trying to convince me to back out. Part of me was excited at the thought of seeing Jack again, but it was swiftly tempered by the other part which was dreading the gravity of the visit.

  Navigating through the one way street, I made my way to the Belanger Hotel. I knew Jack would be staying there because he always stayed at the same hotel when he was in town during his campaign stops. Lucky for me, or maybe not, Jack was a reporter’s dream- he charmed crowds, photographed well, and always provided a succinct quote. It was easy to follow him in the newspapers.

  I drove past the hotel and down a side street, opting to find a free spot to park and walk back. It was a warm day and I had dressed in a skirt and a sleeveless blouse, both of which I had spent far too much time picking out. I didn’t have a huge wardrobe, but it didn’t feel right showing up in my usual collection of discount clothes. Especially when I had to walk through one of the nicest hotels in town. And see the most handsome man I’d ever slept with.

  My nerves were kicked into overdrive as I walked through the doors. I didn’t have a plan, really. I was just hoping he would want to talk to me. I suppose I was hoping that he wouldn’t and I could leave, having done my due diligence. The woman at the front desk gave me a warm smile as I walked up.

  “Could you give me Jack Lawson’s room number?” I asked, sounding as nervous as I felt.

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t give out room numbers.” She said. I exhaled a relieved breath, thankful that I was able to avoid the whole thing, but then she added, “But I can call up to his room on your behalf if you’d like.”

  I forced a smile and gave her a brief nod, the mix of nerves and excitement churning my stomach.

  She took my name and looked up Jack’s room. I strained to hear the brief conversation, but I couldn’t gain a single clue as to what Jack, or more likely his assistant, had said. Placing the phone back on the receiver, the concierge turned back to me.

  “Mr. Lawson asked me to send you up. He is in room number 1201.”

  I thanked her and made my way across the lobby to the elevator that would take me to the penthouse. I pushed the light for his floor and watched the numbers climb, hoping a kid would poke his head into the car and run his hand down the buttons, forcing me to stop at each floor and draw this ride out. Unfortunately, though, that didn’t happen and the doors dinged open on the twelfth floor mere seconds later.

  The quiet of the hallway was maddening, creating a surge in my nerves. Standing before his door I took a calming breath before I knocked. Almost immediately the door was opened and instead of seeing an assistant I saw Jack standing on the other side.

  I thought I had prepared myself for seeing him again, but being face to face with him I realized nothing would have properly prepared me. A powerful flood of emotions washed over me- passion, regret, guilt. I couldn’t stop myself from letting my eyes soaking him in. He was what remained of his dark suit. His jacket was off, tie discarded, shirt sleeves rolled at the elbows. His silky dark hair was tussled as if he had been running his hands through it. I smiled to myself as I recognized this look, as I had seen it many times. The signs of Jack Lawson in panic mode.

  “Marie.” Jack’s voice was soft, and he too seemed to be taking me in. He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. It was the most innocent gesture, but my skin ignited under his touch. “I can’t decide if it’s a surprise to see you or if it seems like it was inevitable.”

  “I guess I know what you mean. Sorry to just show up like this. If I caught you in the middle of something we can always get together some other time.”

  “No, not busy. Come in.” Jack’s appearance told me he was lying, but he stepped back and allowed me in.

  The suite was huge, with a large common area, kitchenette, and doors leading to four different rooms. I did a slow circle as I took it all in. Jack watched m
e, amused.

  “This place is unreal. It sure beats the dives we had to stay at back in the day. I guess you’ve made it to the big leagues.”

  “Not quite.” He smirked. “I usually stay in one of the smaller suites when I’m in town, but since I’m going to be here more permanently I needed something with more space. One of those rooms is a meeting room, so my campaign manager, Greg, can be sure I have no excuse to leave.”

  I looked around again and realized there was no staff in sight.

  “Where is everyone? Judging by your dismantled suit I would say you were knee deep in a hectic day.”

  He laughed, “Am I that obvious?”

 

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