by S. M. Soto
Baz continues to walk out onto the balcony. “Care for another swim?”
I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest. “As I recall, we didn’t do much swimming last time.”
Baz smirks. “Touché.”
He strips down to his briefs, and without another word, he enters the water. I pause just over the threshold, watching him. He slips straight into the Jacuzzi without so much as a wince when he disappears into the hot water. Billows of steam rise around him, and I watch helplessly as the stirrings in my gut start to tug and burn with desire.
“You don’t play fair,” I say, already dropping my clutch onto the chaise and stepping toward the Jacuzzi. My heels click against the concrete.
“Problem, dirty girl?” he challenges with a devious grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He splays his arms out at his sides, gripping the edge of the tiles. The movement causes the muscles in his arms to bulge and strain. I find myself growing wet, feeling hot and weak in the knees. I’m not even in there; yet, I feel like I am. My body overheats just from standing here watching this man do nothing more than sit in a warm body of water.
“Nope,” I squeak. “No problem at all.” I turn around, giving him my back while I give myself a mental pep talk.
You need to keep him interested. Be daring. Be different.
I glance at him over my shoulder and find him watching me intently with questions in his eyes. He’s probably wondering what the fuck I’m doing and why it’s taking me so long to join him. I’m sure the hordes of other women he’s been with would tear off their clothes the second they stepped over the threshold.
Still glancing at him over my shoulder, I slide down the zipper of my dress and slip the straps over my shoulders. He doesn’t move. His face doesn’t give anything away, so I keep going. I slip the satin material down my body and finally get the reaction I was looking for—heat. So much heat flares in his eyes when he stares at my nude body. The dress was so tight, I didn’t bother with a bra or panties, not wanting to ruin the effect, and now, I’m so glad I went commando. By the way he’s staring at me, I’d say he agrees, too.
“You really are a dirty girl, aren’t you, Mackenzie?” His husky voice is awed and filled with arousal. Feeling embolden by his heated gaze, I pivot in my heels and give him a full view of my body. I take a step forward, but the command in his voice halts me in my tracks.
“No. Don’t move.” I freeze, eyeing him warily. With his fingers, he scratches along his chin, watching me contemplatively. “Sit down.”
My brows raise. “What—right here? On the ground?”
He smirks. “Or squat. But I want you right here.” He points at the spot on the edge of the Jacuzzi right in front of his face.
Oh my God.
Heat rises to my cheeks as my legs wobble, threatening to give out on me. I drop my gaze to the floor and try to figure out if I should squat or sit. I could squat to keep my ass off the cold floor, but I have no idea what he wants from me in this position or how long he wants me there, so I opt to sit. I lower myself to the floor and try to keep my private parts covered with my legs, but Baz’s hot, wet hand shoots out, gripping my ankle.
“Nuh-uh. Spread them for me, baby. I want to see you.”
I moan.
I can’t even help it. My body obliges before I have a chance to think twice. With my stilettos planted on the ground, I widen my legs, leaving my center bare for him to openly view.
Baz sucks in air through his teeth, but he doesn’t lean forward like I expect him to. Instead, he rests his back against the ledge of the Jacuzzi and watches me with heat swirling in his turbulent depths.
“Touch yourself.”
My mouth drops open in surprise.
“Show me how you play with your pussy, Mackenzie.”
I shake my head. “I-I … I don’t do—”
Baz tsks and smirks at me knowingly. “Now, now, dirty girl. Don’t lie to me. You mean to tell me you haven’t touched this pussy, not even once since the last time I fucked you? You haven’t rubbed your clit and dipped your fingers inside that heat, imagining my cock sliding in and out, not one time?”
How does he know? Fuck, how can he read me so well?
My distress must be written all over my face because Baz finally leans forward, his face mere inches from my pussy.
“Fuck. I can smell your arousal. I can see your pussy leaking, just begging to be touched.”
And he’s right. I know he can. His eyes are riveted on my bared center, and when I look down, I can see what he’s talking about. I’m dripping wet and completely swollen, and he hasn’t even laid one finger on me yet.
“Yes,” I moan helplessly, tossing my head back.
“Then do it,” he orders. “Touch your pussy, dirty girl. Touch it like you would in your bedroom when you’re alone.”
Be brave.
Be wild.
Be free, Kenzie.
Instead of the voice being my own, it’s Mad’s, and I don’t second-guess the words this time. I just do it.
While staring into his eyes, I slide my clammy palm down the firm planes of my stomach. I pause just above my pubic bone, trying to catch my breath and summon the courage to keep going. His eyes are scorched with heat. So much so, I find myself slipping my hand down. With my finger, I dip into my wetness, sliding it up and around my clit. A jolt of pleasure shoots through my body, and I arch my back. I focus on Baz intently and fuck my pussy with my fingers. I imagine it’s his hand and his fingers pumping inside me. His tongue flicking back and forth over my clit. Spreading my lips open and devouring me whole.
“That’s it, baby,” Baz praises. “Add another finger. Just like that. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“So good,” I groan. I work my fingers faster, stroking my clit harder. “Please, Baz,” I pant.
He pushes off the ledge, leaning into me, but he still doesn’t touch me. His face is right there between my thighs, getting a front row seat to the action, but he doesn’t do a damn thing about it.
“God.” He sighs. “Just fucking listen to you, Mackenzie. Your pussy is soaked.”
I keep pumping, the smacking sound around us growing wetter and louder with each passing second. I can feel the tightening in my loins. I feel it coming, but I need more. So much more.
“Please,” I whimper.
He finally obliges. Knocking my hands out of the way, Baz jerks my thighs open even wider, digging his fingers into my skin. Then his mouth is on me. Laving at my sex, sucking my clit into his mouth, and licking me like I’m a fucking lollipop. I clench my eyes shut and toss my head back, mewls of pleasure spilling from my lips as he eats me like his entire life depends on it.
“Fuck! I’m going to … I’m going to—”
I explode just as Baz slips two fingers inside me and pumps relentlessly. My pussy spasms around the digits, and he continues sucking on my clit, licking me clean.
“Holy shit,” I pant, falling back onto the cold tile, trying to catch my breath.
“We’re not done yet.”
Before I can process his words, my heels are gone, and he lifts me into his arms and sets me in the Jacuzzi. His mouth devours mine, and I taste myself on his tongue. My arousal coats his lips. I try to reach for his cock to guide him into my entrance, but he spins me around, pushing me up against the ledge and bends me over. He pushes my hips down, and my eyes widen when the jets from the Jacuzzi hit straight against my clit.
“Oh, fuck!”
“Hang on,” he grits.
I clasp my hands around the edge as he slams into me, fucking me senseless. With the jets pounding against my clit and his cock thrusting in and out, I’m incoherent. I don’t even know what nonsense comes out of my mouth, but I’m in bliss. I can’t even think straight. It’s too much, but fuck, I don’t want it to stop.
“You feel that, baby?” he whispers huskily in my ear, pushing my pussy even closer to the jets. “Feel how tight your pussy is gripping my cock?”
“Yes, y
es, yes.”
“Do you want to come?” he asks seductively.
“Yes!” I just about scream.
“Tell me this pussy is mine, dirty girl. Say it.”
Goddammit. I know what he’s doing.
Fucking asshole motherfucker. He knows what I’m going to say even before I do.
“It’s yours! God, it’s yours. Please!”
He chuckles and changes the angle of his cock. “Say my name.”
I can practically hear the devious grin he’s wearing. It makes me want to reach back and punch him, but the pleasure, the urge to come is too strong. It’s overpowering my common sense.
“Sebastian!”
That does it. Baz pounds me into the edge of the Jacuzzi. With his hand fisted in my hair, he rides me like a fucking horse, using my long strands as the reigns, so deep I don’t know where I start, and he ends.
“Fuck,” he hisses between his teeth. “I’ve missed this perfect cunt.”
My orgasm barrels into me, and I scream. I don’t know how the glass around us doesn’t shatter—that’s how piercing it is. I collapse onto the ledge and try in vain to catch my breath.
Holy shit.
“What is it with you and fucking me in water?” I pant out. He chuckles behind me, his warm, wet body still rubbing on me, encasing me against him.
I feel him lean back, his palm slowly trailing down the grooves of my spine.
“I’ll take you any way I can get you. Water or not.”
My stomach flutters, and my chest tightens at the same time. Such contradicting sensations. I remain silent, trying to find my voice and gather my wits. That’s not something I’d ever expect a man like Baz to say. It wasn’t sweet, but it also wasn’t a cold brush-off either.
“Here,” he says, sliding his hands around my hips, “let me help you.” He guides me from the ledge to his lap. I rest my back against his firm chest, my cheeks still red from that thorough fucking.
“You okay?” he asks, absentmindedly trailing his fingers along my arms. His soft touch shouldn’t affect me this much, but damn, it really does.
“Yeah. That was … intense.”
His chest rumbles with laughter, vibrating against my back. “That’s one way of putting it. I’m sorry if I got carried away. I—”
I shift on his lap to face him. “Needed to come?” I finish for him with a smirk on my face.
He tosses his head back and laughs, and up this close, I can’t help but admire him. He really is gorgeous when he’s carefree like this. His face is sculpted to perfection, his body carved out of stone. It was as if he was literally made to be every woman’s weakness.
“No, not just that. Whenever I’m around you, there’s this all-consuming need to take you, to make you come apart beneath me. It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced before.”
He frowns, fleetingly, as though admitting the truth was hard for him, and he wishes he could take it back. But I won’t let him.
I opt for humor to ebb away the unease on his face. “Well, that would definitely explain all the sex.” His chest vibrates with a chuckle, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I find myself leaning into him and seeking his warmth. “I understand. I think I’m having the same issue,” I mumble, growing serious. “You were right, you know. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not since last time. Every day I thought about you. Even when I didn’t want to. You want the truth? I did imagine it was your mouth, your fingers, your hands.”
He groans. “Jesus, Mackenzie. Do you want to get fucked again?”
My face splits into a grin, and I laugh. “I’m just being honest. I haven’t stopped thinking about you either, Mr. King.”
Baz shifts me on his lap, turning me to straddle him and pulling my front flush against his body. Our faces are mere inches apart in this position. It’s intimate, a little too intimate for my liking, but for some reason, I don’t turn away from the heat in his gaze. Instead, I return his stare, reflecting back just how much I want him.
His hand moves from resting on my hip beneath the water to my face. He traces the contours of my cheeks, nose, and jaw, his movements almost reverent.
“There’s something about you, Mackenzie. I can’t put my finger on it.”
My heart lodges itself in my throat as he searches my gaze. His eyes blaze a trail of fire across my flesh, and I feel it all rising to my cheeks.
“What is it?”
“I feel like I know you. All of you.”
My heart is pounding now. It’s loud. Much too loud. I almost worry he can hear it. I’m sure he can see my pulse thumping violently along the column of my neck.
Everything about this moment feels heavy. Much too heavy.
“You gonna ask me to go steady with you now, Baz?” I opt for humor; anything to hide the torment going on inside me as I war with myself.
Part of me doesn’t want him to feel this connection to me. It can only lead to bad things, right? What if he realizes why he feels so connected, or that the reason I’m so familiar to him is because I am? Because he could’ve possibly murdered my sister? But the other part of me—dare I even say the bigger part of me—wants him to feel that way. Because I feel it, too. It’s not just because he’s from my past. Something about Baz makes me feel like I can be a better version of myself. A tangible force of energy connects us, and I’m afraid I won’t have the guts to sever it when all is said and done.
The truth is, I want him to know every part of me. Everything that makes me tick. Just as I want to know everything about him. I want to see him smile for no reason other than he can. I want to know what makes him happy, what makes him strive for such success in business. But most of all, I want him to be innocent. Because if Baz did have a hand in murdering Madison, I don’t know what I’ll do.
His face grows serious. If he wasn’t still stroking my face, I would think I said something to piss him off. “You don’t want to go steady with someone like me, Mackenzie. I’ll ruin you.”
My mouth goes dry.
My heart freezes in my chest.
What … is … What the hell is that supposed to mean?
His face is stoic, and I’ve never heard him sound more sincere. It makes me wonder what he’s hiding. What dark secrets he’s keeping.
Could he be the one who …?
My stomach twists, churning with an uneasy sensation, forcing me to swallow down the bile threatening to rise.
I shake my head, and his hand falls away from my face. I stare him down, trying to search for the answers in his eyes. My chest twinges at the torment I see there. It makes tears spring to my own because this whole time … I didn’t want him to be like them. To be a part of her death. But now, I think he is.
Why else would he look so guilty?
“What makes you say that?”
“Everything,” he replies vaguely.
“Well,” I breathe out shakily, sliding my arms around his neck to draw him closer. “What if I want to be ruined?”
His eyes flare, and his entire body tenses beneath me. His muscles are straining. I can practically feel the tension radiating off him from my comment. His jaw clenches as he stares up at me, and when I least expect it, he takes my lips in a bruising kiss that leaves me breathless. I moan helplessly into his mouth, giving myself over to him freely.
The saddest part is, the kiss isn’t even for show.
Not anymore.
The line between right and wrong is blurring, and I’ve just willingly crossed it.
We hover in the moment between right and wrong. Our lips barely graze as mine are still swollen from that last kiss. I realize this is the time to start asking questions. Postcoital. A pillow talk session of sorts, but I can’t bring myself to think of anything important enough to ask.
“So, are you—” I start, but I’m cut off by the tensing of Baz’s body as the lilting sound of laughter floats on the breeze. I freeze, drawing my brows together in confusion. When I glance up, following Baz’s gaze toward the gla
ss windows of the penthouse, I see a silhouette getting closer. A very feminine silhouette.
Baz growls something unintelligible under his breath.
The first click of her six-inch heel hitting the tile is like a bruise to my ego. She’s gorgeous. The supermodel kind of gorgeous. With long, gold-spun blond hair and the body of a literal Victoria’s Secret Angel, it was like staring at a reincarnated version of Madison. A look down at my damp jet-black hair couldn’t have made me stick out like a sore thumb any more. It was obvious to me now Baz had a type.
Even now, after changing who I am—changing everything to reel him in—I’m still not his type.
The woman, dressed to the nines in clothes that scream wealth, looks at me, then back at Baz, wearing a suggestive grin on her face.
“Oh, am I intruding on a … date?” She starts to pout, and the fact that I’m naked in a Jacuzzi with this man, his cum still rooted deep inside me, immediately makes me feel sick.
What was I even thinking? I’m not cut out for this shit.
I dislodge from Baz’s hold and feel his grip on my waist tighten, almost in warning. When I look at him, I flinch at the coldness on his face, all of it reflected at me. His face says one thing, but his eyes … they’re damn near begging me to stay.
“Whatever you’re—”
I hold my hand up to stop him from finishing that sentence. Whatever he has to say, I don’t want to hear it. I just want to get the fuck out of here before I look like an even bigger fool.
I grip the edge of the Jacuzzi and start to climb out, not even caring that I’m nude. My chest is aching, but I can’t explain why. I tell myself it’s because this woman has ruined my plans for the night, my plans of finding out more information, but it’s obviously more than that.
I’m jealous.
Fucking disgustingly jealous.
That sick feeling rising in my throat? That tightness squeezing my heart? That ice filling my chest, making it hard to breathe? Those are all the effects of jealousy.