by Jane Anthony
“Mmmhmm,” she whines, and I pull her forward and push again. The serpentine circling becomes a fierce, steady grind. Her lips part in an earnest sneer as she lurches back and forth, guided by my firm grip dragging her along.
The soaking proof of her pleasure covers me, slippery and wet, adding to the intense friction created by our grating bodies. Spasms clench around me. Her moans become a whining urgent chant over and over. “ . . . ohmygodohmygodohmygod . . .” I catch her as she collapses on top of me, heaving and drooling onto my chest with gasping sobs.
Her body turns rigid under my touch, and her breath stutters with a satisfied sensitivity felt all over her skin. Every orgasm she has is like a religious experience. She’s taken over, possessed by pleasure only I’m able to give her. My cock throbs while I wait for her to recover. I need more of her.
“Hold on, sweets.”
Grabbing her ass with both hands, I slam her limp body onto the mattress still embedded deep inside. Her legs, once wrapped around me, splay out on my shoulders.
I fall forward, caging her in with my hands and knees, driving into her full-force and smacking hard against her ass. Her body vaults off the bed with a gasp. The slapping sounds of skin rival the guttural growls resonating from my chest.
The flush on her cheeks spreads to her chest and her fingers grip my forearms like a vice. She clasps her hands behind my neck, pulling her back off the bed, watching as I drive into her again and again.
“You like watching me fuck you?”
“I love it. Fuck me harder. I want to watch you make me come.” Her dirty mouth is my undoing. Her pussy clenches, and I pulse inside her. The thick ropes of muscle in my arms and neck tighten as I release my climax along with her.
Her legs fall from my shoulders. We ride out our mutually shared orgasm cradled in each other’s embrace. Our bodies, sticky and trembling from exertion, cling together so tight no air can pass between us.
She looks up at me with eyes so dark I lose myself in them. My hand finds hers, pressing her fingers to my lips and to my chest. Every heartbeat has her name in it. It says “I love you” when my mouth can’t seem to, although I’m not sure love is even the right word anymore. My feelings for her are beyond that. She’s the other half of me.
***
My body is wrapped around her as if my life depends on it. She peels my arm away, but her leg is held captive between mine. Memories of our past trickle into my mind. I’m on a crappy pull-out bed in the back of a moving bus, but I’ve never felt more comfortable.
She wriggles her lower half, trying to free her imprisoned limb, and my arm slides around her again. “You keep wigglin’ your ass like that, you’re gonna get more than you bargained for, sweets.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep threatening, big man. Gimme my leg. You’re like a furnace.” I loosen my grip as she rolls over, pushing the covers down to cool off her slick back. “You always smell so good,” she mumbles, burrowing her face in my chest. Sunlight filters in through her sheer bedroom curtains, splattering our bodies in shards of brightness. Last night was incredible, but waking up next to her is still my favorite.
“Let’s just stay in bed all day.” I roll onto my back taking her along. She slides on top of me and sits, pushing my arms up and holding them above my head. Visions of her riding me last night flood my brain. I can definitely go for a little more of that.
Who am I kidding? I can go for a lot more of that.
A shrill ringing arises from the pocket of my discarded pants for the second time that morning. “Somebody better be dead.” It’s only seven o’clock in California. Who the hell is even awake yet?
“May as well check it. I need a shower anyway.”
“What’s the point? I’m just going to get you dirty again.” I smack her ass and grind her back and forth on my growing erection. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth, and an impish “mmm” sound comes out as my phone chimes again.
She drops a kiss to my nose. “Check it. Then come join me.” I watch her saunter to the bathroom, taking her fine ass with her. I love her body, but that ass is priceless.
Jamming my thumb on the screen, I swipe upward to check the messages that keep flooding in. The number is blocked, and there’s no text. Just photos.
I stand, pacing the room in a small circle next to the bed as I flick through half a dozen photos of Ainsley and me from last night. The first couple are tame—she and I holding hands walking into the house, a chaste peck on her cheek by the car—but the last few would put me in jail for murder if I knew who sent them. Whoever took these went to great lengths to get Ainsley in a compromising position. And she is. Bent in half. With me on top of her.
Fuck.
Ainsley’s going to lose her shit. We aren’t even supposed to be together, but here’s proof of it in black and white, and I don’t know where they came from. The tabloids are going to have a field day over this one. Not to mention Bob.
After everything that’s happened, how do I turn around and tell her this? She handed me her heart and told me explicitly not to break it, but this is going to kill her. I need to get this taken care of before the media shit-storm happens. I fire off a series of texts to Vic, demanding his assistance with this headache before joining Ainsley in the shower.
The bathroom is thick with steam when I enter. Mouthwash burns my mouth as I watch her distorted view through the frosted panes of glass, trying to come up with the best way to break the news before stepping in next to her.
Saturated hair hangs straight down her back. She raises her face toward the spray as it cascades down the graceful line of her body. Goddamn. She’s gorgeous dry, but she’s breathtaking when she’s wet.
The clean scent of soap surrounds me. I grab her waist, dropping my lips to her neck and her head falls to the side. Slick skin glides through my hands as she turns to face me. “Everything okay?”
The water rushes all around her. Long lashes stick together creating little black spikes around each wide round eye. I don’t have the heart to tell her. Not yet. Maybe I can fix it before anyone ever has to know. “Yep. Everything is great.”
CHAPTER 48
Ainsley
THE SKY HAS changed from blue to purple by the time we leave my room in search of food. We stayed tangled up in a tight knot under the covers for the majority of the day, but Kade didn’t seem much like himself. He assured me that everything is fine, but the permanent crease on his forehead tells me otherwise. He’s been quiet, controlled. Not one hundred percent there. Whoever was on the other end of the phone today upset him. I just wish I knew what was up.
I slap the button on the radio in the kitchen before pulling out containers of Thanksgiving leftovers. Some random rock song croons from the speaker, while Kade grabs an apple and takes a bite. Sweet juice trickles down his chin, and he wipes it away with the back of his hand.
My feet leave the ground as he picks me up and sets me on the counter in front of him. His hands brace on the cabinet behind me. “I thought you were hungry?” The look on his face is conflicted. He seems almost . . . pissed off. We literally had sex all day, yet he’s still so tense. It’s weird.
His fruit-flavored tongue invades my mouth without answering my question. Hands roam under my shirt then reach for my panties. “Wait, wait. Kade, stop.”
I slide off the counter putting some space between us. My body is weak and sore, but damn if the idea of kitchen sex doesn’t turn me on. Still, I can’t just continue to ignore whatever this is anymore. “You haven’t been yourself since this morning. Stop mounting me like an animal and tell me what’s wrong.”
“I told you a hundred times, I’m fine.” When I avoid his reach, he gives me an incredulous look. No isn’t a word he’s used to hearing, especially from women, but I’m not backing down. If we’re going to be in a relationship together, he needs to open up to me. Sex is not a solver of problems; it’s a distraction from them.
Text messages blow up my phone two seconds after I plug it
into the charger. It skitters across the counter, vibrating like a miniature earthquake. I reach for it, but Kade grabs it first. “Don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just trust me on this one, sweets.”
Pushing him aside, I grab my phone, and my heart begins flapping against my ribs like a hummingbird. “What the hell is this?” The question is rhetorical. I know exactly what it is. Picture after picture of Kade and me having sex. Not the nice kind you see in romantic movies either, the kind you see on late night cable.
Breathe, Ainsley, breathe. Everything is going to be fine.
I stay facing away from him, fixated on a spot on the wall in front of me, torturing myself with the images now emblazoned in my memory forever. “Relax, A. Vic is already working on it,” Kade says, taking my elbow in his hand. “No one else is going to see these, I promise.”
It hits me like a rock. He knew about this. “Are you kidding me right now?” I turn to face him, my arm still clutched in his grasp. Usually, any piece of his skin that touches mine causes a definite reaction, this time included. The only difference is right now that feeling is disgust. “You got these this morning, didn’t you?” I wrench myself from his grip and back away.
“It’s not a big deal, Ainsley. I’ve had this shit happen to me before, and Vic always takes care of it. No harm, no foul.”
“No harm, no foul!” My voice has taken on that annoying high-pitched tone I hate, but I can’t help it. I’m furious and on the verge of an all-out panic attack. “We aren’t even supposed to be seeing each other, Kade! Do you have any idea what would happen to my life if these got out? If Bob saw these? Shay? I’m a suburban art curator, not a fucking porn star!”
The tears I’ve been holding back plummet out of my eyes into the palms of my hands. “Do you understand how creepy this is? In order for these to be taken, someone was sitting outside my window. Someone sat in a tree waiting for us to come home to use these disgusting pictures as blackmail.”
“Yeah.” He flinches, jamming his hands in his hair. “I know.”
Talk about an eye opener. A life with Kade will always be like this. We’ll always be watched, hounded, and followed. Fame isn’t a gift; it’s a curse. “I can’t live like this! Go home, Kade. Go back to California. Get as far away from me as possible.” I run up the stairs and slam the door to my bedroom.
“Come on, Ainsley. Open the door. Don’t be like this.” His voice pleads with me. I can feel his presence on the other side of the door, oozing underneath and puddling around me. I feel so pathetic. Half of me still wants to open that door and fling my arms around him even after all this. The other half wants him to leave and never return so that I can have some semblance of my normal life back.
Bob had to be behind this. When Kade showed up at Charlene’s house, he knew he was caught. He knew I had something on him, so he needed to retaliate. It’s classic Bob 101. Always have the upper hand. I’m a stupid, selfish woman, and my actions are going to lead to the worst possible outcome. I let my desire get in the way of my brain. Maxwell told me to stay away from Kade, and in the eleventh hour, I proved how weak I am and ran right back to him.
No. I’m strong now, goddammit.
Standing from the floor, I collect Kade’s belongings one by one. The suffocating smell of him rises off each piece as I pile them into my arms before opening the door. Last time I ran without a word, but this time, I’m facing it head-on. A forearm rests on either side of the richly stained woodwork as he stands there looking like he’s bleeding from the inside. “Ainsley . . .”
“You told me once that you didn’t want me tainted by your life. Well, I’ve been tainted. If you love me, give me a chance to raise my daughter the right way.” Using his love for me against him is a low blow, but it’s the only way to get him to listen.
“I’m taking care of this.”
“I know you are. But it’s too much. I can’t have this in my life, or in Shay’s life. Goodbye, Kade.” I dump the pile of clothes into his arms, remaining stoic as he walks away from me for the second time.
Watching from the window, my gaze follows him as far as it possibly can. I crane my neck to catch the last glimpse of him as he walks out of my line of sight, ripping my heart out a little more with each step.
The first time he left was nothing compared to now. Losing him a second time feels like my skin is being peeled away. I’m irreparably damaged. Like a vase that’s fallen on the ground—sure, my pieces can be glued together to give the illusion that I’m whole, but one tiny tap could smash me to dust.
I was doing fine before he came back here. He charged into my life like a bull in a china shop, shattering everything I had. I can’t possibly be glued together again. There are far too many broken pieces this time.
CHAPTER 49
Kade
AINSLEY IS THE only thing I can think about as I unlock the door to my house and let myself in. Everything is exactly how I left it. You’d never know the housekeeper was here except for the newly stocked refrigerator. Vic must have told her I was coming home. She made some meals and left them in containers for me. That old woman’s a peach. I should feel relieved to be home after so many weeks away, but instead, I feel like I’ve lost a limb.
I’ve been around some unstable women in my lifetime, but Ainsley takes the cake. She lost her damn mind last night. Yeah, it was bad, but her reaction was totally uncalled for. It was just a few pictures.
I barely have time to settle in before my cell phone is blowing up in my pocket. Banger. Of course.
“Dude, I just walked in the door. Can’t a guy take a piss without being pestered?”
“You’re home, bro? What happened?”
My hand runs over my face. “She chucked my ass to the curb. Again.”
“She threw you out?” Jen’s voice rings shrill through the phone, allowing me no time to answer my friend. “What do you mean she threw you out? What the hell did you do to her, Kade?”
“Control your lady, Lance. I didn’t do shit. Someone snapped a few lewd photos of us and texted them to her. She went all Exorcist on my ass when she saw them.”
I hear Jen in the background grumbling about chauvinism, and I smirk at the irony. After all, Ainsley was the one with the upper hand as she was crushing my heart into dust. “Great, she’s not answering her phone. I’m gonna kill that asshole.”
“Chill out, baby.” Banger’s voice is muffled, but I can hear the Georgia drawl he can’t seem to shake punctuated in the syllables of his term of endearment. Years of being in California have leveled it out considerably, but every now and again, it resurfaces as a constant reminder of where we came from.
Jen’s continued yapping becomes progressively quieter. A door clicks, and I no longer hear her at all. “So what now?”
“Fuck it; I’m done with this shit. There’s a reason I don’t do relationships.”
The line is so silent that I pull the phone away from my ear to see if I’ve lost the call.
After a few minutes of contemplation, he finally talks. “After over a year of pining for this babe, you’re giving up just like that, huh?”
“She told me to go! What am I supposed to do?”
“Same thing you did before. Give her a rest then go back out there guns blazing. Y’all fight like pit bulls and hump like bunnies. It’s what makes you guys good together. You’re both firecrackers.”
Ever since we were kids, Banger has been the yin to my yang. He’s the calm when I’m the storm, the logic when I’m irrational. I don’t appreciate that quality in him nearly enough. He’s a good guy to have in my corner.
“I don’t know, man. Maybe she’s right. What if she and the kid are better off without me? I’m moody, arrogant, jealous . . .” An unexpected shot hits me in the chest when I mention Shay. The girl’s gotten inside my heart just like her mother.
I have to get them back.
“And she loves you anyway, man. I don’t know what kind of magic voodoo shit she’s
cast, but she changed you. Do not make a permanent decision based on a temporary emotion.”
Banger’s right. I’m not the same selfish bastard I was before she came along. For all my “I don’t share” bullshit, I not only found one person I want to share my life with, I found two.
I should have busted through the damn door, kissed her until her lips were raw, and told her what she meant to me. I made a promise to myself that I wasn’t going to walk away from her again, but the first time shit got hard, that’s exactly what I did. I’m a fighter down to my very essence, but I didn’t fight for us. “That’s some insightful shit. When did you turn into Mr. Miyagi, dude?”
“Oh, Kadeney-San,” he jokes in a garbled Miyagi-esque impersonation. “You’re not a quitter, man. But since you’re here, let’s cut our next album and get the hell outta this cesspool of a state. Ya dig?”
***
My eyes are bleary with sleep deprivation and overwork. I feel like I’ve just gone to bed when the alarm on my phone starts blasting through the room. Ainsley’s case is today. I despise myself for not hopping on a plane to be there. The thought of her sitting in that courtroom to face that asshole alone makes me want to punch something, only I’m too exhausted to even move my arms.
She’s set to appear at ten, which is seven a.m. California time. I’d set my alarm for six hoping to catch her before she goes. It’s been over a week since I’ve heard her voice. I’ve not stopped working since the minute I got home except to sleep and wash the sweat off, but it’s done little to ease my mind and strip away the burden I feel for having left her high and dry. The album is terrible, and I don’t even care. My only goal right now is to get it finished and get back.
With a heavy hand, I slap the screen of my phone to hit the snooze button. Just ten more minutes of sleep, and then I’ll call her.
My phone stirs me awake again, only this time, it’s skittering across the nightstand with the annoying buzzing sound I set it to while I’m working. My face still mashed into the pillow, I pick it up with a garbled hello. “It’s ten o’clock, dude. Where the hell are you?”