Frustrated Instincts (Marina: Part Three: Naughty Nookie Series)

by Serena Akeroyd

  You just can’t switch off those kinds of feelings. No matter how much time passes.

  I narrow my eyes at the trio, who are all seated on a round table. A large one, granted, but still, they’re all close. This is their primary work surface and there’s all kinds of shit on there I don’t even have a clue about, save the computers. Papers litter the top, printouts and coffee cups. It’s a natural work environment for three scientists. Sometimes, you get the anal-retentive folk and other times, like in this instance, you get the messy ones.

  As I study them, I say, “If you say so, James.” I don’t hide the fact I’m not convinced. Instead, I step forward to their work surfaces and continue, “How close are you to tying up the loose ends on the prototype of the hand?”

  “Nate’s going to be fitted with a newer, updated version within the month.”

  Nodding at Alexei, who was the one to make the comment, I ask, “What kinds of upgrades?”

  “Ever since the military showed their interest in the prosthetic, we’ve had to upgrade the motility functions. As it is, the fingers were nimble. Capable of peeling a banana, for example. But with the military…, well, we had to ensure the fingers were capable of firing a weapon. We’ve tightened up the system, that’s all.”

  “And this current prototype is it functioning?”

  “Almost.” It’s James’ turn to answer. “We’re having problems with the battery.”

  “Problems I should be concerned about?”

  “No,” Greta replies, her voice, for once, professional and free from smugness. “We’ve managed to iron out why the problem exists, we just need to implement it and we’re waiting on the technicians to put the updates in place with the newer version of the battery.”

  “Okay, well, it sounds like you’re all working brilliantly together.” Even though I don’t believe them, I tell them the opposite. “I’m glad you’ve laid the past to rest, because what you’ve invented is going to change a lot of people’s lives.” Trying to sound sincere is difficult, but I suck it up. “I only popped in, because I wanted to let you all know that while you can still talk to Nate about any general problems or concerns with the ranch’s herd that’s it.

  “Now I’m back, you can come to me for the more pressing issues where the commune itself is involved. Be it a dispute between you and somebody else or a question about your annual grant. I want you to come to me. Sam is no longer a part of the administration, so he can’t help you. And if you go to him, thinking you can make him persuade me, it won’t work. Come direct to the source.” I smile at them to take the sting of that last remark away.

  “We understand, don’t we, boys?” Greta murmurs, that saccharin-smile on her chops again.

  Eying her, I nod rather than reply and turn on my heel to leave their lab.

  The rest of the visit ran pretty smoothly. I’ve few bugbears with the folk on-site. As a kid, I kept my distance from most people, so I’ve no past grievances to muddy the waters. I said my bit in kinder tones to the rest of the people in the lab and made my escape into the cooling late afternoon.

  I haven’t been here all that long, but already, I’m feeling a lot better. The constant griping pains that had become a part and parcel of my day had disappeared. I guess I’d been a fool to ignore them as long as I had in New York, but in truth, it had never crossed my mind there would be something physically wrong with me. Hell, you try being harassed by people you know would as soon as put a bullet in your brain if you happened to say the wrong thing and come out of it without feeling slightly stressed!

  As it is, I’m not exactly a million miles away from New York, but I hope the distance is enough. Ever since that farce with Mona—who still isn’t picking up her phone, by the goddamned way—I’ve made a point of scouring the papers every day and I’ve seen nothing. No political scandal over politicians using the services of high-class hookers. It’s too early to say that I’m in the clear, but each day is a stepping-stone and I’m taking it slowly.

  With the lab at my back, I take a look over the pastures and just take a moment to suck in a breath and be. Making a bridge with my hands, I lift my arms overhead and stretch. Wiggling to loosen the kinks in my shoulders that interacting with Greta had created.

  God, that woman rubs me up the wrong way. There’s something about her. Snide and catty, she’s a difficult woman for other females to like. The annoying thing is most guys would say it’s because of the way she looks. And that’s just BS. Eddie is the epitome of female beauty. You have not seen a more gorgeous woman than my best friend and yet, she’s exactly that. My best friend. I don’t hate her guts because she’s hot. So there’s no reason to be envious of a woman in her mid-fifties, who still has her looks, but they’re nothing like Eddie’s.

  It’s rare that I take such a dislike to someone, but c’est la vie, I guess.

  Shrugging off the thought, I stride across the pasture and over toward the homestead. There’s no cart outside so I know Nate’s not back yet and the minute I cross the threshold, I head to my office.

  On the ground floor, there are ten different rooms. From sitting areas for various occasions to the kitchen and offices. It’s a big house and for the moment, Nate and I have it to ourselves, because Sam has yet to return to the homestead and I figure he must have camped out in the dormitories in a further effort to avoid me.

  I’m appreciative of his efforts. I quite enjoy this stress-free, calm existence. It’s a novel change.

  A smile on my face, I pass the dining area where I spent many an uncomfortable evening eating my supper with my parents, and head down to my office. In there, surrounded by more taxidermy than I’m comfortable with, I sit at my desk and check my email. There’s nothing important, just the usual messages. As I sit there, my inbox dings with an incoming message.

  Marina,

  Just seen all the missed messages on my mobile. I’m okay. I swear. Just having some issues at the moment. One of them being… well, I’m pregnant. I know it isn’t like me to just take off, but I never wanted kids and now I have one, well, I don’t think I could have an abortion.

  Mona’s been in touch. She’s okay. Not pregnant. But she’s with Zane, the guy she picked up at the bar, and his husband. Incredible, right? Our innocent friend has been corrupted. I blame you. ; ). She seems happy though, so I guess that’s all that counts. I wanted to tell you so you could freak out without her on the other end of the phone to hear it.

  She’s fine. She sounds… well, she sounds happy. It’s horrible, really, but I’ve only just realized how bland her life was. That’s all changed now.

  I’m not using my mobile, so the only way to get in touch is by email. I’m fine. I promise. Truly. I just need some time for me.

  Let Mona call you, it shouldn’t be long, she’s bursting to talk to you.

  Speak later, sweetie,

  Eddie X

  Mona. In a threesome?

  A huge grin makes my jaw ache as I reread the paragraph. Hell, it’s good to know the pair of them are alive! I’m pissed off that they’ve stayed out of touch; God, Eddie isn’t the only one who worries!

  With a relieved breath, I sink back into my seat and click open a new tab on the browser and run a search for Zane Matthews’ husband. After a few clicks and minor investigating, Jake Harris’ name pops up in a news article and with it, a picture. Whistling under my breath, because Mona has landed herself two hotties, I grin again and then, jump, when Nate’s voice breaks my concentration.

  “That’s what I like to see.”

  Startled, I ask, “What?”

  “You. With a huge grin on your face. What’s going on?”

  “Eddie finally got in touch and she says everything’s well, but, she’s pregnant, so I guess it isn’t.”

  “That’s an odd thing to say,” he murmurs with a raised brow.

  “Nah, Eddie doesn’t like kids. She’s crap with them. Weird, because she had to raise her sister from twelve or so. But she just… well, yeah, babies and h
er don’t mix.”

  “Is she going to get an abortion?”

  My lips twitch at the sound of his disapproval. “It’s her body, her choice, Nate.”

  He hums under his breath. “It isn’t a decision to be made lightly.”

  “If you knew Eddie, you’d know no decision is made lightly. Even if it involves choosing rye over pumpernickel for her sandwich.” I snort at the idea of Eddie making a facile judgment without weighing every pro and con ‘til kingdom come. “I didn’t realize you were against abortions.”

  My comment has his brows lifting. He does that a lot with me. Scowling, frowning, brows-cocking. I keep him on his toes. Never a dull moment with me. Hiding another grin at the thought, I watch him as he walks further into the office—looking too hot for my own good in all his blond deliciousness—and perches his ass on the edge of my desk.

  “I’m not against them; I’m just not for them, either. They shouldn’t be abused, that’s all.”

  “Well, don’t worry, Eddie won’t. Neither will Mona. She isn’t pregnant. But she is…” I point to the screen and show him the picture of Zane Matthews and Jake Harris together in a shot. “… with the pair of them.”

  He stares at the picture a second, then grins. “You have some strange friends.”

  “Did you expect any different?” I tease. “And hey, she isn’t strange for wanting the pair of them. Each to their own… isn’t that what you’re teaching me?”

  “Touché,” he nods. Nate turns away from the screen and studies me with a serious cast to his expression. The brevity of mere moments before has disappeared and in its place is somberness. It’s enough to make me nervous until he says, “Any child we may make together, Marina, I don’t want you to throw it away like its worthless.”

  “I’m on birth control. It’s highly unlikely I’ll get pregnant.”

  He shrugs. “Nothing’s infallible. I want you to promise me you’d never abort my baby.”

  Now, I’m not the motherly sort. I’m like Eddie, only she’s worse. I’m used to kids from this place. There’s like a buddy system. Kids old enough to leave elementary school have to watch over the younger ones. Just because I have more experience, doesn’t mean to say it’s made me want a family of my own. Anything but.

  So why do his words have butterflies making an appearance in my belly? Why does the idea of having Nate’s child turn my bones to mush?

  I clear my throat to rid my voice of the sudden attack of emotion that clouded it and tell him, “Of course not. I’d never do anything like that.”

  It’s his turn to swallow and he looks away from me as he says, “I’m glad.”

  Touched, I reach for the hand he’s resting on his lap and curl my fingers about his. Standing, I tuck myself between his legs and let our torsos brush. Such a simple connection has me sighing with relief and I hear his own whoosh of breath whistle past my ear.

  I’m not normally sappy, but I have this strange feeling that Nate’s my soul mate.

  Cringing at the dumb idea, I nevertheless believe it to be the truth. Not that I tell him that. He’d probably think me a moron.

  He lifts his arms and I take the moment to rest against him and in his embrace. Saying I feel safe here is a peculiar way to phrase it, but I do. For a moment, we just prop each other up and then, he busses my cheek and whispers, “I have another present for you.”

  Fuck. His last gifts were non-gifts in my opinion. The thought has my lips twitching. “Is it one I’ll like?”

  Nate chuckles. “Yeah, you’ll like this one. Although, you can’t deny, you like the other presents too.”

  Smirking at him, I shake my head. “Like isn’t the word I’d choose.”

  “No. I guess not.” His amusement turns his hazel eyes green and I study them, maintaining eye contact as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a jewelry box.

  “This looks promising,” I tease and accept the box from him. Before I open it, I reach up and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Nate.” Because he’s definitely Nate at the moment.

  “You’re welcome, honey.”

  Opening the velvet box, I laugh at the contents. “Seriously? You bought me nipple guards?”

  “You’ll be able to go without a vest now.”

  His answer has laughter pealing out of me. “These must have a cost a fortune.” These are a pair of thick gold circles with smaller ones cut out of the middle and a ring, almost like a cuff, sits neatly inside.

  “You’re worth it.” His eyes flash as he murmurs, “Take off your shirt.”

  Grabbing the hem, I cross my arms and tug my work shirt and vest off in one go. Again, he isn’t Sir. It’s strange how I can tell the difference. It’s not just his manner, but his word choice. His last statement could have been classed as an order, but it wasn’t. It was a suggestion.

  When my tits are bared to the room at large, I notice the door is wide open. Those damned butterflies make another appearance, but this time with nerves. Almost as though he senses my discomfort, he mutters, “Leave it. No one will come in.”

  My cheeks flush and heat burns through me with both arousal and mortification. He’s right. There’s nobody likely to come in at this time of the evening. That doesn’t make the risk any less frightening. There could be an emergency or somebody might have a question for me… hell, I’ve been going around the commune telling people my office door is open day and night for them.

  I didn’t mean fucking literally!

  Nate brings me back to the moment by leaning forward and sucking one nipple whole into his mouth. A low cry escapes me in shock, of the pleasant kind, as he nibbles and bites. His mouth is gentle and that has my nerves twitching in response. I don’t think, can’t think as he pulls and tugs at the tender nub. My hands come up to grip his head, the fingers sliding through the crisp, yet soft blond strands. A shudder works through me as he sucks hard and then, with a pop, releases the nipple from his mouth.

  Wet, gleaming with his saliva, I watch as he grabs one of the shields from the jewelry box and with a simple twist of his fingers, adjusts the interior cuff. He hovers it over the puckered nipple and then, pinches down. The sudden jolt of pain combined with the cold metal against seemingly scorched skin has my head flinging back as though my neck is made of spaghetti. Arousal bubbles and boils low in my belly and it only doubles as he torments my other nipple, dragging his teeth down the nub, rubbing them against it and then, shielding it with the gold ornamentation.

  The pinch of pain has me crying out again and every part of my body juddering with sharp blasts of need.

  By the time the cold gold adorns my breasts; I’m desperate to cum and I know, know that my jeans are soaked from my arousal.

  I should be embarrassed, but I’m way too gone for that. When he studies my tits, a satisfied look on his face at the jewelry, I grab him by the waist and get to work on his belt. He lets me, something that’s a shock in itself, but I don’t waste a moment on wondering why. I don’t want him to change his mind! God forbid.

  My frantic hands make a mess of undressing him, but I manage to pull his belt free from the loops and then, get to work on his fly. The instant his cock, complete with beads of pre-cum, pops out between the zipper’s teeth, I’m borderline desperate. I’ve never taken drugs, but I imagine this is how a junkie feels. Craving, willing to kill to get his next fix.

  By the time I get to work on my own fly, the sound of my sobbing breaths echo around the room. He doesn’t make a move to help me, just watches me with heavy-lidded eyes filled with promises he’ll keep. I tear at my crotch, unfastening the stiff buttons that make up the fastener to my jeans. One pings off at the force I’m using to undress myself and thank God, the others soon follow. I drag them down and pull them off over my boots. The instant I’m naked, Nate grabs me by the hips and spins us around so that I’m on the edge of the desk and he’s in front of me.

  His hands arch upwards to curl about my ankles as he pulls them up to rest against his chest. The move has my th
ighs almost closing shut and when his cock brushes against my sopping pussy, a high-pitched moan bursts out of me as he drags the thick rod along the sensitive flesh of my cunt.

  He’d pressed my upper torso down against the desk, allowing me to writhe and wriggle beneath his gaze. As it is, I don’t even feel the keyboard digging into my spine and that sure as hell isn’t the reason why I curl upwards, my spine arching as he pushes himself into me.

  The thick tip of his shaft is blunt against the relatively small entrance to my pussy. Mewls of agonized pleasure whisper from my mouth as he works his way deep inside me, filling me to over-capacity. When he’s in me, all the way, I grunt as he starts to fuck me. Slamming his hips against me, shaking the desk beneath me, making my tits jiggle and the new nipple guards jostle in reaction. Until now, I hadn’t felt much more than the original pinch, when he put them on me. But now, they’re there and my nipples are tingling, burning in a similar way as the pegs, but without the fucking agony.

  His thrusts are true, deep, fucking right into the heart of me as he impales me on his cock. Every thick, swollen inch. Shuddering at the thought, my hands grip the edge of the desk as the driving strokes of his hips jerk me on the tabletop. It shouldn’t have been sexy, it shouldn’t have been a huge turn on, but it was. This isn’t Sir, but it’s the Nate I know of old. A man who takes me to the edge, whether I want it or not, blasts me with something I’m only just coming to recognize as his dominating spirit.

  His hips suddenly slow, his thrusts gentle in their pace and he takes the time to ensure that every part of my cunt is caressed by the thickness of his shaft. The slow attention to the clinging walls of my pussy has my hips jerking up, lifting my feet higher than his head and making a pen and the stapler stick into my back.

  It’s sick; but that pain, the stabbing jab of the stapler and the pen combined with those horrifyingly slow thrusts does it for me.