by Deanna Lee
“I have to pick and choose my battles until August,” I finally said. “I know that makes me sound like a coward, but Milton Storey is up to something, and I considered his interference on your account a small thing compared with whatever else he might have planned.”
“I could kill him and bronze him for you. He’d make a horrid but interesting garden gnome.”
I laughed aloud. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’ve been thinking about the high-school art project. I think that’s great, you can count me in for it.”
“Oh, thanks. Jane is proud of it. I’m glad the Board agreed with me. Have you told her, yet, that you’ll be part of it?”
“No, I’m still plotting young Sarah’s downfall. I’ll give Jane a call.” She paused and sighed. “Thanks for last night.”
“We all need something or someone every now and again.”
After my phone call ended, I spent several hours in front of the television and then went to bed. Lying there, I thought about Martin again. He’d been my close and soothing friend after the attack. It had been no surprise to me when, two months after my rape, I sought his physical comfort. The sex hadn’t been mindblowing, but it had done a lot to heal the damage that had been done. When I’d decided to leave New York and Martin, he hadn’t tried to hold me back or change my mind.
He had gone to great lengths to make the decision painless. He’d helped me sell my apartment and what furniture I wasn’t going to take with me. I valued him for the dear friend he was, but a part of me still hurt for the pain I caused him. It wasn’t until after I’d left New York that I realized how much Martin loved me and how hurt he’d been when I decided to leave. It had been too late to take that decision back, and though our friendship was different, I still counted him among my closest friends.
The wedding invitation was still on my kitchen table. He’d found a woman he couldn’t live without and planned to marry her. I was happy for him, but there was another part of me that had been devastated by that knowledge. He was no longer there to fall back on, to depend on. I felt selfish and mean for it.
Martin was the second reason my bed had been empty for two years. I’d used him, and I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t do that to another man.
CHAPTER 7
I spent the whole day thinking about what I wanted and needed, and by the time I arrived at Shame’s gallery at 5:30 P.M., I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do. Calling him and inviting myself over had probably been one of the boldest things I’d done in recent memory. Since I hadn’t given him much of a chance to respond to my request to come over, I was very unsure of my reception.
I entered the gallery and glanced around. Shame was at his desk with a customer. He looked in my direction and nodded. I unhooked the PRIVACY sign and then hooked it back into place before I went up the stairs. Once in his studio, I walked toward the sculpture. I could make out the shape of me, my face, and the lower part of my legs. The arms were emerging, barely.
I reached out and touched the face of the sculpture. He still had work to do, but it was fascinating to look at that alabaster and see myself coming out of it. I’d been up there a few minutes when he appeared. He shut the door and pushed a set of keys into his pocket.
“You didn’t have to close early because I arrived.”
“I only opened for her. I don’t normally keep any weekend hours.”
He leaned on the door, silent and watchful. Then he pushed away from the door and walked toward me. The moment he could, he reached out for me. His hands were drifting over my face as he pulled me close and kissed me. I dropped my purse without hesitating and wrapped my arms around his neck.
Flush against the heat of him, I was breathless with wonder and something so hot and bone twisting I could barely recognize it. Desire, lust, and pain mixed in my body as he lifted me off the floor and coaxed my legs around his waist. I wanted this man like hell, and I didn’t care what the consequences were. My fingers dug into his shoulders as he pressed me against the wall.
Heat and ache followed his mouth as he kissed my neck and shoulder. Pushing the strap of my dress out of his way, his teeth nipped at my skin. One shuddering breath after another was wrenched from me as he ground his body against mine. With a sob of frustration, I arched against him. I’d never felt so empty in my life.
“Shame.”
“I know, Mercy.”
He pulled at my dress until my right breast was exposed. Sucking the nipple into his mouth, he held me tight. The pull of his mouth was overwhelmingly hot. I felt like I was going to burst out of my skin. Knowing what he needed to hear, I sucked in a deep breath.
“Shame. You have to fuck me. Now.”
“God, Mercy, do you know what you are asking?”
“I’m not asking.” His head jerked up and our gazes locked. “You have to fuck me right now.”
His grip loosened on me and I let my legs drop to support me. Without another word, he slipped his hand into mine and pulled me toward the second set of stairs. I fought the urge to start undressing as we walked up.
Shamus pulled me across his living area quickly and then we went up the set of stairs that led to the third, partial level. I could see most of the loft below as I paused there at the foot of the bed. The bed was low to the floor. I looked at him then, saw the hard passion I had for him mirrored in his eyes. This was our final step, the point of no return.
Pulling my dress over my head, I tossed it on the floor. I wasn’t wearing a bra. My nipples were impossibly hard and aching. I rubbed them with the palms of my hands as he pulled his shirt free from his slacks and unbuttoned it hastily. Discarding my panties, I shoved them aside and crawled onto the bed. On my knees, I turned to face him as he undressed. He was beautiful, and so dark compared with me. The contrast of his skin and mine was such a turn-on that I had to close my eyes briefly. When I opened them, he had discarded both his pants and a pair of boxers. My eyes lingered on the boxers briefly, both surprised and amused.
“I take it you like the Tasmanian Devil?”
He laughed and glanced briefly at the cartoon-decorated boxers. “Yeah, I do.”
My gaze traveled back to him, taking in the length and width of his erection. He had to be nine and a half inches—and so thick I’d barely be able to wrap my hand around him. Wetting my lips, I looked up to his face and rubbed my legs together as I lay back on the bed. “Come here, Shame.”
He went to the nightstand and pulled out a box of condoms. I nodded my approval and held out my hand for him. Shamus came to me, sliding his body against mine and wrapping his arms around me. I loved the feel of him. The heat of his body warmed and excited my skin. He covered my mouth with his the moment he could.
The kiss was hot and passionate, full of as much longing as I had, and all the passion I hadn’t fully realized he had for me. The knowledge that he wanted me was a heady and rewarding experience. He pulled his mouth from mine and lowered it to my breasts. He kissed and sucked my nipples until they were so rigid they hurt. All the while, his hands moved over my hips and ass, pulling me closer and pressing the full length of his cock against my stomach.
“Tell me how you want it, Mercy.” He pressed a kiss against my stomach before allowing himself to go lower. Carefully he spread my legs. “Tell me.”
I arched against his mouth as he nuzzled me and used his tongue to separate my labia. The tip of his tongue stabbed at my throbbing clit until I was twisting against him. “Put your cock in me, Shame.”
“Hard?”
“Yes.” I watched as he freed the black latex from the foil and rolled it into place. “Any way you want.”
He spread my legs gently as he knelt between them. It was so sexy watching his dark hands move over my pale thighs. He pushed the head of his cock against my entrance and slid into me. With my back arched and my legs spread wider, I shuddered as he sank fully into me. No longer empty, I thought fleetingly as I met the thrust of his hips.
�
��Yes,” I whispered, taking each invasion, my body demanding more.
I wrapped myself around his strength and let go. It had been so long since I’d trusted a man this way that I could barely hold on to my sanity. The hot penetration of his cock and his mouth drifting over mine were everything I needed. The pleasure of him was deep, and it twisted inside my body until I didn’t know where we separated, or even if we could.
He slowed the stroke of his cock and lifted his head. Our eyes met and held. I was taken in by the passion he couldn’t express and the need he didn’t bother to hide. The way we fit together was perfect and almost painful in its honesty. Pressing fully into me, he ran one hand down my side and then up my leg.
“I want to be on top.”
He laughed softly at my demand, but pulled from me to oblige. I slid astride him and sank onto the length of his cock with a sigh of relief. A shudder ran down my back as I started to move. His hands moved over my thighs and to my hips, and he gripped me, teaching me the rhythm he wanted. The steady thrust of his body underneath me lifted us off the bed and forced my body to accept every glorious inch of him.
God, I loved a big cock. I let my head fall back as I moved with him. The naughty pleasure of fucking a man I barely knew was there, but there was also a feeling of connection and desire. This man knew me and my body in ways that I didn’t even understand. He ran his thumbs along my labia as I rocked on him and teased my clit gently.
He hissed as the muscles of my pussy tightened against the pleasure and the building orgasm. “Perfect.”
He sat up as I started to come, wrapped his arms around me, and rocked me gently as pleasure swept over me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Our tongues slid against each other, exploring that wet sensation as I continued to move on his cock.
“You have an amazing pussy.”
I laughed and kissed his mouth gently. “If I’d known you had this big, thick cock to share, I would have jumped your bones sooner.”
Running his hands down my back, he cupped my ass and ground against me. “We aren’t finished.”
“Oh, I know,” I whispered against his mouth as I kissed his lips, pleased with the softness of them. His tongue darted against my lips and sought entry into my mouth.
I lost myself in the kiss as he rolled us over and put me on my back. Releasing my mouth, he started to move, each thrust measured and sure. My insides trembled with each thrust and each retreat. His body jerked briefly as he fought to keep from coming. Then he shortened his stroke and ground against me.
“Don’t.” I touched his face. “Come for me, Shamus. Don’t hold back on me.”
I took his face into both of my hands and made him keep his gaze on me as he thrust into me that final time. His body shook from the force of it. I watched him close his eyes, and then he lowered his body to mine. Bodies slick with sweat, we lay there, wrapped up in each other and shaking, for a long time. Finally, when we were still, he pulled from me and rolled onto his back.
“The first time I saw you, it was in New York. You were in the museum talking to Edward Morrison. Did you know you talk with your hands?”
I laughed softly. “Sometimes I even do it when I’m on the phone.”
“I had a meeting to get to, so I couldn’t stop to meet you. When I went back and talked to Edward, he told me that you were leaving New York and he had no idea where you were going. Six months ago, I was at an auction looking to buy back a piece I’d sold when I was starting out. You were there, bidding on it. I got so flustered looking at you, I lost the auction to you.”
I had the grace to blush at that. “I was determined to get it. I didn’t see you there.”
“I had someone standing on the floor for me. I was in a private room. I forgot about my buyer.” He placed a soft kiss on my shoulder. “I should probably do some work.”
I nodded. “I could use a shower before we get started.”
“Sounds like fun.”
I left the bed and glanced back at him briefly before I walked into the bathroom. I’d gotten exactly what I wanted, and it had been all that I could’ve hoped for. As a lover he was just as attentive and thoughtful as I’d hoped he would be.
His shower stall was as big as some bathrooms I’d seen, with three showerheads. By the time I had them turned on and adjusted the temperature just right, he joined me. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me gently. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be gentle with me, that I wasn’t fragile. I loved the way his hands were moving softly and lightly over my skin.
I gasped a little as the foil of the condom in his hand scraped against the skin on my back. He tore the condom package open and tossed the wrapper over his shoulder. Taking the latex from him, I rolled it onto his cock, taking my time, despite the way his breathing hitched every time my fingers slid on him. I cupped his balls and massaged them carefully, his cock jerking between us.
When he could take no more, he pulled my hand from him and gathered me close. His mouth on mine, his hands roaming over my body, I started to shake with my need. I’d never wanted like this, never hurt for a man like this. The cool tile wall of the shower met with my back as Shamus picked me up and pushed into me. I arched against him and moaned.
I couldn’t help the shudder that took over my body almost immediately. “God.”
“Hmm.” He sighed, and buried his face in my neck. His hands moved underneath me and cupped my ass to keep our position against the wall. “Well, He made me, but I’m the one doing the work here.”
I laughed and closed my eyes. “And He made you so well.” I tightened my legs around his waist and took a deep breath as he took his second stroke into me.
He lowered his head to my shoulder and made a tangled sound deep in his chest. “You’re going to be sore for days.”
Didn’t I know it? His cock was so gloriously big. “I won’t even be able to sit tomorrow without thinking about you being inside me.”
He groaned and pushed deep into me again. “Good.”
His next thrust into me was hard, and the relentless heat of it wrung several broken cries from me. Holding me high against the wall, he bared his teeth on my shoulder, scraping my skin as he started to thrust quick and hard. I loved it and moaned every time he buried himself fully into me.
“Are you going to come for me?”
I closed my eyes and bit down on my lip. The steady and relentless drive of his cock into me was like dying repeatedly. His flesh blended hot and full with my body.
I moaned a little and my whole body flushed with orgasm. “Oh, God.”
“That’s it, baby.” He gripped me tightly against him. “Give in to me.”
I came down the stairs wrapped in a towel, with my hair pinned up, as he’d requested as he’d left the shower. He was standing on the other side of the sculpture, staring at it. He looked every bit as aloof and professional as he had the first time I sat for him. He glanced toward me and then back to the sculpture as I took a seat in the chair and pulled my legs up into position. I was pleasantly sore. Muscles that I hadn’t used in a while tingled under my skin.
I looked at him and found him staring. “Am I positioned wrong?”
He shook his head and sighed. “No. I thought that sleeping with you would take the edge off the piece, but it hasn’t.”
He went to work, leaving me with my thoughts. It had occurred to me after the shower that I should tell him about New York and why I had left there. Keeping it a secret didn’t seem right in light of the change in our relationship.
I looked toward him and found him frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t look happy about this, Mercy.”
“I’ve just got something difficult to tell you. I don’t want to, but I don’t think I can keep it from you and feel good about what we are developing here.” I took a deep breath and focused on the floor in front of me. Why was it so hard?
“About New York,” he said softly.
My gaze jerked to
his and I sighed. “Yes, about New York.” I took a deep breath. “You’re the second man I’ve been with since I was raped.”
“Raped.” The word came out of his mouth hard and sounded so painful that I flinched.
I knew there was no word that was as hateful as rape. I nodded and watched a multitude of emotions cross his face. Anger and sadness were the only ones that lingered.
He cleared his throat and focused on the alabaster for a few moments, his hands still. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I do trust you.” Unable to help myself, I started to talk. “His name was Jeff King. He worked at the museum with me. We were friends. Well, I thought we were friends. It wasn’t the first time we’d worked past the closing of the museum. We were getting an exhibit together. I wanted to get it done early so I could go out of town for a long weekend.”
I couldn’t tell him about it. Only Lesley had heard all of the details, and it had taken me hours with her to get it all out. Disgruntled, I looked at him. “Martin found me, saved me in several ways, actually. I felt so lonely and broken. He helped me put the pieces back together.”
“He fell in love with you.”
I nodded. “Yes, I didn’t realize that until later. Sex had always been about pleasure for me, at least before I was raped. Afterward, my feelings about sex were mixed. I knew that what had happened to me hadn’t been about sex or desire, but I was uncomfortable around men who wanted me. Martin wasn’t sexually aggressive; to be honest, I initiated all of our sexual encounters. One night I realized that I was using him. I felt sick about it. I made the decision to leave New York and Martin. I didn’t deserve his friendship.”
He was silent for a moment and then cleared his throat. “I need to think about this a while.”
I nodded and tightened up my position so that he could work. Shame was rather introspective, so I had expected him to back off a little while he digested what I had told him.