by Laura Cooper
ENVY
Seven Deadly Sins Series: Part 1
By
Laura B. Cooper
AMAZON EDITION
Published by: Sea Island Press
ENVY
Copyright © 2013 by Laura B. Cooper
* Warning *
All rights reserved under the international and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from another publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
License Notes
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
About the Author
Other Books
Chapter 1
Walking around his desk my legs felt unstable, as if they would give way from beneath me at any moment. This man rattled me to my core. Knowing that I’d just brought New York’s most eligible bachelor to orgasm in my mouth filled me with unexpected pride, and the warm sense of accomplishment ran through my body. I licked my lips, tasting the last traces of Carlton left there as his manly scent flooded my nostrils and my mind spun wildly into dangerous territory. Punish me… he’d said, and my entire body had rumbled inwardly at the thought.
I’d thought I was past that point in my life. My resolve to forget men and concentrate on my career had been absolute, pre-Carlton. I was going to take control, especially of my love life. When I’d left Charleston, I’d made a solemn promise to myself never to allow anyone that much control again. I was certain I wouldn’t survive another devastating blast of reality that was for sure. Eleven years with Benton Frazier had taught me so many things; most of them I’d vowed never to repeat. It’s not that I didn’t like it, giving up control that is. No, I liked that a lot. It was the broken trust that seemed to have a stranglehold on my brain whenever I thought of being that close to anyone again. And a relationship without trust just wasn’t appealing on any level to me. I guess once you’ve learned to swim in the grown up pool there’s no going back to wearing floaties.
My experiences with Benton had been fresh and exciting, yet somehow I’d let him taint those memories for me. The truth was in front of me like an albatross; I desired, maybe even needed, controlling men. Benton was a mere coin with identical sides; what you saw was what you got and nothing was ever a shock. Both men were killer attorneys, but that’s where all similarities hit the brick wall. Carlton couldn’t possibly be more complicated, surprising and downright challenging. It was that deadly combination that caused me to look back on my vows of chastity as nothing more than a schoolgirl whim.
Carlton circled around his desk in my wake, his strong firm grip on my neck sent shivers of expectation through me as he guided me to the sofa. I’d never expected this from him; he was so gentle with me in our love making. Yet now, fear, love, lust, and desire all swarmed through my veins like a colony of rousted yellow jackets. I envisioned him pushing me down face first on the couch, pulling my skirt above my waist and ripping my pantyhose to shreds. Maybe that was more of a wish, than an expectation. With Carlton, I couldn’t seem to anticipate a single thing; this frighteningly compelling side of him bowled me over. One minute his grip on my neck had me in pre-orgasmic state, the next his tenderness made my heart swell to the size of a watermelon. I dutifully headed to the couch to take whatever punishment he felt I needed with eagerness.
He guided me over to the overstuffed leather couch and sat me down as his iPhone began ringing. “What?” Anyone within a four block radius could sense his irritation bubbling to a boil. But the call had stolen his attention from me, and he lifted a single finger in my direction to indicate he needed a moment. He had no idea that I was willing to give him all the time he could possibly stand. As excited as he had me I could sit here all night long puddling my wetness onto his glove leather sofa. I lowered my hands to the buttons of my shirt and began slowly, teasingly releasing them. “You can’t pick one?” he asked into his phone. “Wait a minute,” he said, pulling the phone to his chest. He pointed at me and clicked his fingers, “Quick, what’s a good law firm in Charleston?”
“What?” I responded. It wasn’t because there wasn’t one; again he had me off guard. I couldn’t believe this man went from zero to sixty in mere seconds. One moment I was rocking his world with a killer blow job, the next he was Carlton ‘man of steel’ Michaud-Esquire.
“C’mon, Ms. Martin. Quick!” His impatience was unnerving.
“What kind of law, Mr. Michaud?” I asked the question, not believing the belligerent tone that escaped my lips.
“Port Authority, Charleston County.” He stood there, wearing nothing but his black socks and crisp white shirt, his half hard cock just hanging out there. Still, it was a good look.
“Frazier, Rice, Rutledge and Calhoun, I suppose.”
He turned his attention back to the phone. “Frazier, Rice, Rutledge and Calhoun,” he said with an amazing amount of confidence. He raised his hands into the air with frustration, “I have no fucking clue. Anyone will do! This isn’t rocket science, just get someone, and fly them up tomorrow. Make it happen!” He clicked his phone off and tossed it behind him into the his chair.
“Sorry, Liz,” he said as he turned his attention back to me.
“We’re back on a first name basis, Mr. Michaud?” I was irritated, and I wasn’t afraid to show it.
“I’m really sorry. We have a client in New Jersey who’s been haranguing us all day to take care of an issue. Sometimes I let work get in the bloody way.”
“Really? You think?” I was mad, but quite frankly I doubt it showed on my face. Just looking at this man made me very, very wet. In a last ditch effort to bring him back to our situation I said, “You were about to give me my punishment, weren’t you?”
“Right then, about that…” he said, drawing the words out with the most adorable English accent. He was chewing on his bottom lip; the phone call had completely distracted him. His dark eyes darted around and he started to pace on the Aubusson rug at our feet. I was tempted to comment on his attire, or rather lack of it, when he paused in front of me. “Damn it Liz, this is your fault!”
Again dumbfounded, I stared at him blankly, “How’s that work?”
Still chewing his bottom lip he grinned at me, “You seemed to have cleared out whatever clog was keeping me from seeing this Webster case in the right light. Now, I’ve got to make a couple of calls. Perhaps later tonight?”
“Certainly, Mr. Michaud,” I said with taunting professionalism as I stood. “I understand. The plumber cleared the pipes, now the entire system is working again!”
Carlton gave his best effort to show me his pouting face, which for all practical purposes was less than convincing
. “It’s not that, Liz…”
“No, no, Carlton. I totally get it. How about this? You make your calls, and I’ll go home and prepare a romantic dinner. Then maybe…” I said, turning my back to him and bending over to pick up my purse, “after your stomach is full we can resume our chat about my punishment.”
His eyebrows lifted with fleeting interest as he resumed pacing his office. I buttoned my shirt and straightened myself to some semblance of normalcy as I watched him inadvertently touch every single item in his office as he paced by them. Kissing him lightly on his cheek, “I’ll see you in a few hours. Do you want me to grab Jargon for a walk?”
Glancing down at me he seemed startled that I was still in his office, “Oh… um sure! That’d be great. Here’s the code to my door.” He leaned over his desk and scribbled four numbers onto a tiny post it note engraved with his initials. Turning around he stuck it to the front of my shirt. “Thank you, darling. Any other woman would have castrated me by now. Don’t think your patience has gone unnoticed.” His smile was genuine and full of the tenderness I’d now come to understand as the real Carlton. However, ‘Killer Carlton’ was back to pacing his office when I silently closed the door behind me.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
I could smell him on my fingers as I held the sticky note to my lips. The elevator seemed slower than normal, all I wanted to do was get into the bathroom and get cleaned up before Palmer came home. He could smell dick a mile away, and I really couldn’t take an interrogation right now.
I turned the key and opened the door to find the apartment empty. Whew, I thought. What a relief. I dropped my bags on the kitchen counter when I saw the note.
Out late tonight. Don’t wait up! Love, P.
I slid out of my skirt and stockings and exchanged them for a pair of well faded jeans and flip flops. Throwing my hair into a ponytail I grabbed Nucy’s leash and walked to the door. She was there before I was.
Upstairs I felt like a burglar entering Carlton’s apartment knowing he wasn’t there. Jargon growled from the giant pillow in the living room, but instantly cheered when Nucy rounded the corner towards him. It was stranger than fiction how these two dogs have become best friends in such a short time, I thought as I lifted Jargon’s leash from the key rack in the kitchen. They must have been star crossed lovers from another time, I imagined wistfully.
A light left on in the bedroom caught my eye; he must have left it on all day! I crossed the hall and entered his bedroom, the fading recollection of Dad yelling to ‘turn off all the damned lights’ resounded in my mind. Then I stopped hesitantly; the light was coming from his home gym. At least that’s what he’d told me it was. The mirrored door was standing open as a streak of curiosity blinded my good sense. I’d condemned Carlton for nosing into my private business too many times already in our short relationship, and now I was heading straight for this room. Oh well, I told myself, I wouldn’t truly be a southern woman if contradiction wasn’t my middle name.
I pushed the door slightly open and stepped into the room. Dark shades, most likely controlled by the collection of buttons near the door closed the room from all outside light. He’d told me there was an in-floor hot tub in this room, and there certainly was. Currently it was covered by a thick padded black vinyl lid; I lifted one side of it to take a peek. Steam billowed into the room and I could feel my hair frizzing as I waited for it to clear my vision. The water looked hot, deep, and crystal clear… with the way I felt right now it took all my faculties not to strip and climb right in. I couldn’t do that! I wouldn’t mind seeing it bubble though. I stepped back to the door and studied the control panel. There wasn’t one single label on any of the buttons… I debated… then pushed them all.
When the side wall jarred silently I cringed. At last, the secret dungeon where he keeps the body parts of his past women. Rounding the hot tub I pulled the secret doorway open and… cursing myself again, peeked inside. It was too dark to see in the smallish room so I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and clicked on my flashlight app. The room lit eerily, son of a fucking bitch! It looked like my dear, sweet, romantic, gentle Carlton had enough bdsm toys to fill the Tower of London! Oh my! I wandered inside picking up a sinister leather flogger that had caught my attention. I ran my fingers around the smooth stick unconsciously as I studied his other accoutrements. He kept all of his battery operated devices in tall, red, enameled tool chests; I giggled imagining the countless mechanics that used the same ones for honest purposes. Two drawers were full of nothing but batteries, and on further inspection I noted that the single windowless room in Carlton’s apartment contained enough whips, chains and dildos to satisfy even the most needy sub… ie: me.
I felt downright giddy with excitement as I perused his Wonderland of BDSM. Crap! What was I doing? I was meandering through his private belongings as if I was Inspector Gadget. I reminded myself how ultimately rude I was being, and took one last longing glance around the room before turning off my flashlight and closing the secret door. I caught my breath at the movement behind me in his gym room as I clicked the door shut. Blood curdled in my veins. I flung around half expecting Carlton to be standing there… un-amused. Instead, Nucy and Jargon sat in the doorway; their tilted heads told me that they couldn’t comprehend why we were all still here and not running in the park already. I sighed and pushed more buttons until the lights went off in the gym and the hot tub was no longer beckoning me with its gurgles. “Come on you two. Let’s get you to the park.”
As the two Dalmatians romped in the open field in the Park I amused myself with thoughts of Carlton’s Dungeon. I wondered at what point in our relationship he would open his secret door for me?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
My heart made its way comfortably back down into my chest as I opened the fridge and retrieved the last bottle of merlot. Perfect, I thought. Just enough for one tall glass. I rummaged through the cabinets looking for something simple yet elegant for dinner. That frustrated feeling crept back into me as I realized that Palmer had cleared our cabinets of anything reasonably useful. I seriously needed to curtail that kid’s pot smoking habit before he ate us out of house and home! My phone buzzed in my purse, and I fumbled with the zipper to get to it before the third ring. Dammit! Gone to voicemail. I pulled the phone out of my purse, leaned back against the counter studying it as I took a huge gulp of liquid stress reliever in my wine glass. Perhaps it would be better to just to order something in anyways... I didn’t know the number, so I called my voicemail, putting it on speaker as I downed the last swallow.
“You have… one… voicemail. Press seven…”
I pushed the button forcefully, my patience was running thin with the cluster of mishaps my day was accumulating, and then the smooth, velvety voice came over my speaker.
“Liz, this is… uh… Carlton. Carlton Michaud.”
As if I didn’t know who it was. What did he think, I had four or five, incredibly beautiful English men who called me?
“I’m almost through here. Once I saw things clearly I realized it isn’t half as difficult as I’d thought. Thank you so much for that darling. I took the liberty of ordering in for us; since you are directly responsible for my sudden mental clarity, I thought dinner should be my treat. Meet me at 8? My Place?”
I looked at the time on the phone. Great, I thought. It’s already 7:15. Forty five minutes. I could do this.
I stripped as I flew into my bedroom, kicking my shoes into the corner as I pulled my blouse over my head and pushed my jeans down my legs. I rushed to start a shower and figure out what to do with my unruly hair; I had an immense need to be as sexy as possible tonight. I wanted in that room! As the warm water splashed over my body I felt the urge to just finish myself right there. I pulled my nipples, imagining Carlton’s strong hands cupping, pinching, pulling at them from behind, his strong arm wrapped around my waist as he pulled me into him. His breath, raspy and hot on my neck as his wonderful cock pressed into my ass cheek. Damn, I thought. I gotta get mov
ing!
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Chapter 2
I rode the elevator back up to his apartment, staring at my reflection in the shiny metal wall. I was thankful to be alone as I surveyed my outfit. I was going for something really comfortable, but not slovenly. Something that said, strip me, beat me and whip me, yet with a subtle tone. I wanted to make sure that he had easy access should he decide to do just that!
It was my favorite yellow sundress; just loose enough to let the late afternoon sun shine through and highlight my body, no bra, and two strings I affectionately called underwear. Nucy and Jargon sat lazily beside my flip flopped feet. I nodded to myself in my reflection; this exact outfit had won me a great deal of praise at Benton’s law school graduation party last summer.
I could see I chose correctly when Carlton opened the door. He still wore black suit pants, his crisp white shirt was now unbuttoned almost all the way down, no shoes, and a glass of merlot in his hands. Thank God he finally ditched the black socks. “Hey Liz!” he exclaimed. “You look great!” His devious smile was enough to boost my self confidence, and those deep chocolately brown eyes nearly buckled my knees. “Food’s not here yet. I was just going to jump in the shower, so make yourself at home!”
He disappeared so quickly I couldn’t respond, and I took the opportunity to nose around his den and stare out at the beautiful sunset that was his everyday view. Magnificent, I thought. Manhattan bathed in the gold and pink hues of the sunset was a romantic’s fantasy. Incredible. Not quite as incredible as his secret room, but nonetheless an awe inspiring view.
I looked over my shoulder as the caterers delivered the food. They didn’t say a thing, and they certainly didn’t look me in the eye. Clearly they’d been to this rodeo before. I felt like I wore a neon sign on my head that said, this girl is getting flogged and laid tonight! The thought didn’t disturb or embarrass me in the least! I could get used to this, I thought as I sipped my wine and turned back to the luxurious sunset.