Your Alibi

by Annie Dean

  "Addie and I have been enjoying each other's company,” he said carefully. “But Manu objects to our ... relationship."

  Just speaking the word made him feel like flinching. He wasn't free to enjoy anything more than sex here, but if he admitted that out loud, he'd be lucky if he didn't get something shot off. Sean paused, trying to choose the best spin.

  Christ, what a mess.

  "He's married,” the big man blurted.

  "Separated!” he corrected.

  Somewhere during that awful trip to Doghouse Junction, he'd decided he wouldn't return to their silent, sterile life, no matter what he found out here. Sure, there were still loose ends to tie up, but he'd never live with Cami again, not being sure she was deceiving him, and a low, dull ache rose up inside him, not because the marriage had failed—he'd acknowledged that on some level years ago—but because so much uncertainty loomed ahead.

  Sean wasn't even sure he knew how to live alone, which sounded sad at his age, but he'd been dating Cami since he was sixteen and they'd been friends even longer. He remembered painting the bedroom of their first apartment with her, a rat trap where they weren't supposed to alter any of the fixtures. She'd giggled as they bought a gallon of lemon ice and said, “I guess we aren't getting our damage deposit back."

  Since that was all of fifty dollars, her happiness was well worth it. They'd hung yellow and white check gingham curtains that Cami sewed on a portable sewing machine. She did matching pillows for the bed, and the result was warm and charming, if more feminine than he'd have chosen for a room he shared. She'd put pictures of it in her first portfolio, and he wondered now if it was still there, or if she'd phased it out in favor of sleeker, more expensive projects.

  The fight drained out of him, and he realized Addie was talking. “Goddammit, Pop, put that away. I didn't even know—hey, is that your glue gun prototype?"

  That snagged his interest, distracting him from the tightness in his chest. “No shit, really? Lem, that thing looks almost exactly like a Smith and Wesson! It even sounded real when you cocked it."

  And that was the perfect tactic to derail Addie's dad. He stepped closer and handed it over with obvious pleasure. “Yeah, I designed it so when you turn it on and engage the heating mechanism, it sounds just like a real gun. In addition to being great for crafts, I thought it might make a handy deterrent for home security without the added risk of someone accidentally shooting his own face off. The bastards at DIY Corp laughed at me, though."

  Manu was staring between the three of them like he thought the world had gone mad. “Lem! Don't you care that..."

  The old man sighed. “Not to dismiss your concern, big guy, but Addie's old enough to handle herself. It's not something I like to think about because a man's children really aren't supposed to have sex, at least in his mind, but I figure if she didn't want this fella in her bed, she'd tell him so. We should mind our business. She might stop baking if you piss her off."

  "Thanks, Pop.” Addie kissed her father on the cheek and led Sean away, though he was still marveling at the glue gun. “Good night."

  "That's impressive,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Night, you two."

  Manu didn't even grunt in answer and he could feel the other man's glare boring into his back as they went into Addie's room. He probably wouldn't have gone with her brother-in-law and her dad watching, except he didn't want to traipse around naked any more than he already had. This was probably the world's best argument for a robe, he reflected. Maybe that's why pricy hotels supply them.

  As the door clicked shut, she threw herself on the bed with a gusty sigh. “I'm not looking at you,” she said, covering her eyes. “Because if I do, I'll die of embarrassment."

  "You?” he demanded, incredulous. “Your dad saw my penis! He could've glued my pubes off."

  "Oooh.” She sat up. “I'll be right back."

  "Where're you going?” His irritation was back, full force. “We're talking here!"

  He wanted to finish that fight with Manu or failing that, an argument with her might work. When she stood up, her towel gaped, showing the smooth curve of her ass, and he immediately added angry sex to the list of things that might help.

  "You had a great idea."

  "Huh?” The down-the-rabbit-hole feeling returned, though not quite as strong as when she'd dragged him off to baby sit penguins.

  "I'm going to tell Lem he needs to adapt his prototype for hot wax treatments. Maybe he'll stop messing with this flammable thingie and work on wax sticks that fit the heating unit in the glue gun. I bet salon patrons would get a kick out of that bikini wax."

  With that, she let herself out, still half-naked, and Sean understood Manu's frustration. Doubtless Lem would think that was a fabulous idea, would probably want to ramble a bit, as Addie made a great captive audience; he might even head right down to the workshop to get started at three in the morning. He tried to imagine a woman's reaction to having a handgun aimed at her crotch, and then it occurred to him he was in her room with a perfect right to be here.

  He went quickly over to her laptop. After talking to Manu, he felt like he had some good guesses for her password, and on the third try, he entered ‘melusine,’ all lower case, and the year her sister was born. The Windows menu came up, and he knew a spark of excitement. This is it.

  She had two very interesting spreadsheets on the desktop and he was accessing one when the door swung open. Shit, that didn't take nearly as long as I thought. There just wasn't anything he could do but try to bluff.

  "Do you get Internet?” he asked, carefully casual. “I'd like to check my e-mail."

  Addie slammed the door, leaving no doubt as to her state of mind. “Save the bullshit. Never mind how you got in for the moment, how much did you see?"

  "Nothing,” he said, though he didn't expect her to believe him, even if it was true.

  "I said, cut the bullshit.” She stalked toward him and spun the laptop and then stabbed him in the chest with an angry finger. “Interested in my financials, Sean?"

  "I'm interested in everything about you.” He winced at how that came out sounding like a line.

  "Right. But especially what's on my laptop, huh?” Her voice sounded tight and clipped. “I figure it doesn't matter now."

  Cold washed over him. “Why doesn't it?"

  She shrugged, propping a hip against the desk. “Pretty simple, really. You came looking for information, and I tried to distract you so you didn't find it. Happily, now you can't talk about this place without incriminating yourself, or rather without it becoming a pot-kettle situation. It would be smart of you to go home to your wife and pretend none of this ever happened, as you've lost the moral high ground."

  "You know why I'm here then. From the very beginning, you knew.” He didn't know how he felt, a little nauseous definitely and there was a black sinking sensation he didn't care to explore. “So you set me up,” he went on in a dull tone. “Great job there, by the way, though it's not too hard to lead a guy around by his dick."

  Especially not one whose wife hasn't touched him of her own accord in better than eighteen months. It felt like something had broken inside him, but he made himself straighten his shoulders as he picked up his clothes from her floor. He'd had a good life, an ordinary one some people might even say, and so this could be experience catching up to him, a rebound of the karmic wave. She regarded him silently, still wrapped in that fucking towel, and he couldn't read her at all.

  "You miscalculated something about me, though, Addie."

  "What's that?"

  In the half-light, Sean saw the defiant tilt of her chin; he wanted to hate her for pretending she wanted him. It had been so long since he'd felt the touch of a woman who did that he almost couldn't bear the truth. But hate wouldn't come because he saw the shine of her eyes. Someone she loved had already sliced her wide open tonight and no matter how big his axe to grind, he couldn't use it on her.

  "I'm not the kind of man who'd do something he'
s ashamed of and then try to hide it. I never had any intention of sweeping this under the rug. This is a life-altering situation for me; I don't sleep around, but I guess you wouldn't know that. See, I've been with one woman my whole goddamn life and that's changing when I get back to Virginia. I'll lay my cards on the table, and then we'll start talking about property division. I don't give a flying fuck whether you believe me."

  "Sean..."

  Jaw set, he yanked his shirt over his head and tugged on his shorts, holding up a hand to stop her. “You're really screwed now, because while you thought you had all bases covered, turns out I write for the Post and I will not rest until I uncover the truth. That's why I came out here. To get at the truth, no matter how painful, and if you won't tell me, I'm sure Manu will. And then ... you're AP news, baby, and not in a nice way. You fucked with the wrong guy.” He paused on his way to the door to toss her a look. “Not that we actually got there, but you know what I mean. I'm sure you're glad you don't have to suffer through that. Have a good life, why don't you?"

  "Suffer through what?” She sped by him to the door, pressing her back against it like that would stop him from leaving.

  "Sex with me,” he bit out.

  The words scraped him raw, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see her, not wanting to talk to her, or breathe her in, but goddamn, her scent was all over him from head to toe, and he didn't feel gentle about it. Never in his life had he hurt a woman, and he didn't trust himself right at this moment, so he merely stood waiting for her to move.

  To his astonishment, she laughed. “Are you out of your mind? I've never wanted anything more in my life."

  "Cut the bullshit.” He echoed her earlier words, so tense he ought to be vibrating. “Your games aren't going to work on me anymore. You can't fuck your way out of me writing about whatever scam you're running here."

  "You think I'm a whore too?” Stepping forward, she shoved him, though he didn't budge. “I fuck my way out of trouble? I steal other people's husbands, just like Bette Boudreaux. I have no morals and no standards. That's what you think? I'd get naked even if you had warts, a wooden leg and a throbbing two-inch dick? The fact that you're hot and I want you didn't factor into it, huh? Well, fuck you."

  "Thought you'd never ask,” he growled, and hauled her into his arms.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Oh, no you don't,” she snapped, just before he kissed her.

  Addie bit his lower lip, hard, but it didn't deter him. Instead he took more, devouring her mouth with nips and nuzzles. Knowing she was giving mixed signals, she shoved at him, even as her lips clung. Somewhere along the way, her towel disappeared.

  He tasted so good. Her body went molten, but perversely, that response just made her angrier. The bastard had some nerve, trying to pretend he hadn't been sniffing around just to have an excuse to look at her computer, trying to act like he was innocent in this. A reporter, no less. Goddamn him.

  She finally pushed hard enough to get his attention and he lifted his head, eyes glittering. It was almost dawn, a pearly shimmer along the edge of the horizon, and she wanted him out of her room, but when he cupped her ass and drew her against him, hard, she couldn't stifle a moan.

  "I hate you,” she snarled. “Get your hands off me."

  "You hate me?” He let his hands drop, but his gaze roamed her naked body, lingering on her breasts. She could feel the aching tightness of her nipples, and he pinched one between thumb and forefinger. Tugged on it and it felt so good that her pussy gushed in response. Her breath hitched, and she ached for him to palm them both, squeeze and caress. “Do you hate this too?"

  "Goddamn you!” Addie swung at him, hating that she was both furious and ready to fuck, but he caught her wrist before she landed more than a glancing blow.

  With his free hand, he dragged her against him and held her still. Worked his hips against her, watching her eyes, and she knew he had to see the outrage and lust created by the wicked slide of his cloth-covered erection against her bare pussy. She squirmed and twisted but he didn't let go, and the idea of being under his control just turned her on more. Feeling like she had to get some of her own back, she leaned in and bit him on the shoulder, almost sharp enough to draw blood.

  Sean shuddered from head to toe. “I'm going to die if I don't fuck you."

  Christ, he sounded like he meant it, and her heart felt like it might explode if she didn't have an orgasm with him inside her, squeezing down on his dick. As one, they began tugging at the clothes he'd just put back on. His breath came in hot gusts against her throat, as she literally ripped the well-worn cotton t-shirt down the back. Her nails raked his skin, demanding and urgent. His shorts tore too, and the button popped off, but it was Sean who did that, shucking them like they were two sizes too small. When she leapt at him, he caught her, arms going around her hips.

  Kissing blind and hungry, they stumbled toward the bed, her hips lunging already. His dick felt huge, so incredibly good sliding against her slick lips. She teased her clit against him, her juices wetting his cock, and he staggered hard into the bedside table, turning something over, smashing something else before he fell back on the bed. They bounced together, all hot skin and clutching hands.

  She found a condom in the mess from her spilled night table and rolled it on in a deft motion, then Addie swarmed over him, scattering angry nips over his chest and shoulders that made him gasp and arch. She found his nipple with her mouth, sucked, bit again. His hips bucked, and he thrust, trying to hold her still, but she wouldn't let him, stoking the urgency with quick cadenced strokes, rubbing against him but not taking him.

  "No more of that,” he bit out. “This. Now."

  And rolled with her, pinning her arms over her head. Sean looked huge looming over her, and he took her in one thrust. She arched, instinctively clamping down on him, and he groaned but didn't stop pumping, quick and rough. Exquisite friction, no finesse. Addie wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed back, taking him deeper.

  Her breath came in broken gasps, and her breasts still ached, so she put her hands on them, plucking at the nipples. He nudged her fingers away from the left and lowered his head, sucking fiercely as he drove in and out. Tension built in her lower belly; she needed to come—had to come—all over him.

  She twisted and bucked, grappling with his hands until he let her go. “Pull me up,” she begged, and then she all but crawled up his body as he lifted her.

  "Like that?” He sounded hoarse, hardly human, and he shook from head to toe.

  Sweat beaded, spattered damp. He fell back on his knees and she ground on him, so wet and hot. Better this way. So fucking good. Cupping her ass in his hands, Sean pulled her against him, tilting his body so she could find the right angle to press her clit.

  "Yes, there. Christ. Oh God. Give me your tongue, Sean..."

  He kissed her, hot and deep, his tongue surging between her lips. Addie came. Her whole body tensed, and she squeezed her eyes shut as her pussy contracted again and again, her juices bathing him. She heard herself gasping for breath as he eased her back down and continued to stroke inside her, slow and easy, while her muscles twitched.

  "Just lay still,” he whispered. “There's more."

  "No more,” she tried to say, but then his finger found her clit, and she jerked because it almost hurt, but there was also a spark that made her tilt her hips and try to lift her legs.

  So tired. Don't really need—

  But then he palmed both her breasts, and the heat began to build again. He thrust slower, at first, but he couldn't maintain such restraint for long. Quick and needy, Sean worked his hard cock into her, and she yielded, gave, climbed as he took her. She was almost there again when he lay down on her fully.

  "Addie...” He whispered in broken staccato that became a wordless cry.

  His hips moved in short, rapid strokes, and then he went rigid, squeezing her in his arms. His orgasm sparked a second, smaller climax, and Addie trembled. Moaned out his name.

>   She lay under him, lax and sated. His sweat felt cool on her skin, the wind rippling over them. Somehow she remembered how to use her hands and she stroked his back in clumsy movements. Christ. I wish he were mine. The thought shook her and she amended it to, for just a little while. She didn't do the long haul, after all. When he rolled away, he took her with him as if he didn't want to relinquish the feel of her. The idea made her smile, even as her eyes focused blearily.

  "What're we doing at the foot of the bed?"

  He pretended to look around, fingers still tangled in her hair. “We're in bed?"

  "Sort of."

  "Sorry,” he said, sheepish. “I think I broke something.

  "A bone?” She patted his softening penis with real affection.

  "Not broken. He's just shell-shocked."

  Squinting, she saw the night table turned on its side and some pottery fragments littering the floor. She wished she didn't see the top drawer hanging open, panties fanned out like it was Underwear Mardi Gras and her favorite pink jelly dildo nestled in the middle of the mess. Addie decided she'd pretend there was nothing unusual about that. “Looks like ... a picture of my abuela and my ceramic cow were the only casualties."

  "I'll buy you a frame. I don't promise a new cow, isn't that a little kitschy?"

  Levering up on one elbow, she tried to glare, as she remembered she was supposed to be mad at him, but she suspected it was more of a dozy look, like she'd overdone the Xanax. “Since when does fucking a woman give you the right to criticize her taste in home décor?"

  He stretched lazily and then shrugged. “Being married to an interior designer, you pick up a few things."

  Well, she really wished he hadn't said that, because she suddenly felt like they weren't alone in bed. Based on Sean's stricken expression, he seemed to share the feeling. “So she's a decorator,” she said finally.

  She's also out of her mind. Has a husband who fucks like this, who cooks Italian, and she's using my service? Addie shook her head. Clearly the woman needed professional help.