by KB Winters
I let out a tight laugh. “I want nothing more than to be inside you again.” I kissed her chin then searched up and down the narrow alley to make sure we were still alone. People were passing by on the main street, not far away, but they were oblivious to us, our only audience the trees and the walls around us. “Now?”
Her answer was to spread her legs and hitch her hips upward, brushing her wet pussy against my cock.
That was all the answer I needed. Leaning down to kiss her, I took my cock and, brushing aside her barely-there panties, I slowly entered her. We both moaned at the same time. She was tight — tighter than I remembered, and so fucking sublime. I knew I wouldn’t last long; maybe only a few thrusts, it was so good. I pushed until I was balls-deep inside her, and then I kissed her.
Her breasts rose and fell against my chest with her quick breaths. I squeezed them through the fabric of her dress as I started thrusting, filling her over and over again. She moaned, and the pleasure shot straight to my cock, making me even harder than before. She was so hot and wet and tight that my brain had shut off completely to everything but the sensation of my cock in her. I could only concentrate on how good she felt around my cock as she cooed my name in that breathy voice.
I started pounding into her, pressing her up against the wall of the building, my thrusts deep and hard. A low sound began in her throat, and she tilted her head back to the sky. I grabbed her hips and tilted them toward me as leverage to fuck her harder. Our skin slapped together, loud, animalistic, primal, and I was surprised the whole neighborhood hadn’t come running.
Her hips bucked upward to match my thrusts, and I felt her tightening around me. She sank her teeth into my neck, closing her eyes as her body trembled toward orgasm.
“Oh, God, I’m coming!” she breathed into my ear, her body tensing and releasing, her pussy clenching around my cock. “Oh, it’s so good.”
I growled her name, gripping her hips, and then I came, deep within her, as her body convulsed along with mine as I filled her up.
I collapsed against the wall by her side, breathing heavily. We were both covered in a light film of sweat, and as the breeze brushed over us, I shivered. I already knew this wasn’t like any relationship I’d ever had. It was far too intense, an explosion that had completely rocked my world.
I’d been infatuated with Meg for a long time, but now that she was here in the flesh, I knew it was more than just lust.
I was in love with her. She turned to me and grinned, looking flushed and marvelously fucked. “Do you ever think we’ll be able to control ourselves enough to make it to your apartment?” she asked with a wink.
“I sure as hell hope not,” I said, my hand roving under her dress, squeezing her full ass. Kissing her harder, I could feel myself getting ready for another round. But this one could wait until we made it back to my apartment, and she was in my bed again.
Chapter 12
Meg
“Why, Meg? Why did you do this?”
I was lying in bed in my Uncle Heller’s mansion, and the room was flooding. I was naked and my wrists and ankles were tied, bruised, red and aching. I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried. I needed to get away. In the hallway, my uncle was laughing. He came in, ran his eyes over my naked body, and sneered in dissatisfaction. “Don’t blame me,” he said. “This is all your fault.”
“I never wanted this!” I yelled at him. “I never thought this would happen!”
“You should have anticipated that when you killed your mother.”
I kept trying to wriggle free. Tears were pouring down my face. “I didn’t. I didn’t mean to —”
“Fucking always gets you in trouble,” he said. “You stupid little whore. You’ll never get free, because no one is here to save you.”
I closed my eyes and sobbed, and when I opened my eyes, my uncle had transformed. It was Gabe.
“Gabe, baby, please help me out of here,” I begged.
The expression on his face was complete devastation. There were open wounds on the skin of his arms, his face, wounds that would leave deep and lasting scars. “Why, Meg? Why did you do this to me?”
I shook my head fiercely. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry –”
“I loved you, and you ruined me. You fucking WHORE!”
“NO!” I shouted. “Don’t, Gabe. Please don’t.”
But he ignored me. And he started to walk away, leaving me scrambling on the bed, screaming after him, as the cold, dark water began to rise over me . . .
I woke with a scream in my throat. Strangling it back, I sat up in bed and sighed in relief when I saw Gabe next to me, lying on his pillow, his body curved to make a comfortable spot for me.
I wasn’t in my bedroom in Heller’s mansion. Though that had been my room for so many years, it had felt like a prison. This place? Gabe’s bedroom. It was my sanctuary. I dreaded leaving it. I calmed my breathing and held my chest until it stopped heaving.
His eyes flickered open and he tugged on a lock of my hair. “You okay?”
I nodded. Then, I shivered, thinking of the dream. I couldn’t tell him about it. Two weeks ago, I’d learned that the pictures I’d taken were worthless. In fact, they were just early sketches of one of his first app designs, and not very good or groundbreaking. Uncle Heller had told me the app I was looking for, this LuvMakr, would be much more complex, much more intricate, and would likely be locked away on his computer. He’d given me a flash drive, so I could download it. For the past two weeks, I’d kept that flash drive in my purse, waiting for the perfect time.
But it hadn’t come. And I didn’t know if it would ever come.
I’d been in his apartment at least three times since then, and while sometimes he’d sit at his desk, naked, typing and designing, I still hadn’t been able to get the password. I snooped around a little while he was asleep or in the shower, trying to find it, and I guessed a few times, but I’d always guessed wrong.
And Uncle Heller was getting impatient. I’d told him I needed more time, but the launch was just around the corner.
Truthfully, though, I hadn’t been putting my all into it. My attempts were half-assed. It was too easy to get caught up with being with Gabe. I knew he loved me, a lot, though he hadn’t said as much. It was in everything he did or said. I knew I could ask him for anything, and he’d give it to me. We’d go out to dinner, and we’d manage to actually have a meal without jumping on each other and fucking outside like two horndogs. We’d even made it back to his apartment without undressing each other in the car. He’d introduced me to more beers than just Bud — now I was quite the fan of Blue Moon and a couple of other IPAs he’d gotten me to try.
And as much as I hated to admit it, this couple thing? I liked it. I liked being his. I liked the dependability he brought. In fact, all the things I usually did alone? I wanted to do them with him. I knew it was ephemeral and we were doomed. But the now of it? I liked it. It was comfortable, and it made me happy.
And I wanted it to last.
I really didn’t want to find that app.
Yes, I wanted my freedom. I knew that eventually things would sour, and I would give my uncle the goods and earn my freedom. But being with Gabe almost felt like the same thing. I wasn’t under my uncle’s thumb when I was with Gabe. I felt free. Wanted. Maybe even loved.
I knew it was all an illusion, one that would soon blow up in my face if I wasn’t careful.
Thus, the dream.
How could I do that to him?
I almost wished he’d get it over with and hurt me first, so that I wouldn’t feel so bad hurting him.
I smiled at Gabe and stroked the side of his face, my mind screwed up in a million different thoughts. He reached over and tweaked my nipple. Then, he sat up, tackling me back to the bed and pinned me with a deep, erotic kiss. Despite us having gone a few rounds last night, his cock was instantly hard against my thigh again.
Just then, the alarm sounded. Six a.m. He groaned and threw himself bac
k on his pillow. “Why do I have to go to work and leave my sleeping beauty?” he sighed.
I smiled at that. There was a time when he’d been so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to go to work, but now, I could tell things had changed. He’d been setting his alarm later and later, and some days, he’d called in sick, something my uncle said had never happened before. My uncle, I knew, was thrilled, which was why he hadn’t come down on me yet about not delivering.
“You could always call in sick,” I suggested, turning over and propping myself up on my elbow.
He shook his head. “Twice in one week? My partner’s been indulging me but I can’t leave him holding down the fort like that.”
My last conversation with my uncle flitted through my head. You have him eating out of the palm of your hand. You could probably ask him for the app, and he’d give it to you.
A queasy feeling settled in my stomach as I realized what I had to do. I took a deep breath, and then another. But it didn’t go away. “You know, I’m not feeling so well,” I said to him suddenly as he walked naked toward the bathroom.
He turned, genuine concern in his eyes. “You sure? What’s up?”
“Just a little queasy,” I said. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe a migraine coming on. As long as you have Excedrin, I’ll be good.”
I sat up, then laid back down quickly. I really did feel a little woozy. It had to have been the dream, and the lack of sleep, and the heavy sexual workout.
I blinked, trying to get my bearings. “On second thought. I think I’ll just call in to work today.”
He raised an eyebrow. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with two pills and a glass of water. “Want me to stay with you and play nursemaid? I can give you some of my special kind of healing.”
I laughed as I popped the pills and swallowed them down. “What about your partner?”
“He can get his own healing from someone else.”
I laughed harder. “No. You go on. I’ll stay here and—oh shit.” I snapped my fingers.
“What?”
“I forgot. I have to send something to a client at work.” I tapped my finger on my chin, pretending to think. “I really don’t want to have to go in just for that.”
He scratched at his five o’clock shadow. “Well, hey. Do you have it with you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. On a flash drive.”
He leaned over and kissed me, long and hard. “Stay here, sleeping beauty. Use my Mac. The password’s capital V, lowercase e-n-t-u-r-e-s-83.”
I stared at him. There it was. So easily dropped in my lap, it hardly felt like work. So why did I feel even sicker to my stomach? I nodded. “Cool, thanks.”
We spent a little time fooling around after that, enough so that he only had ten minutes to get ready and make the half-hour commute to work. At the very last minute, he jumped into the shower, rushed to get dressed, and started for the door, his hair soaked, and his tie askew. I slinked across the bed on my knees, grabbed him by the tie, and straightened it for him. “Goodbye, Mr. E-Ventures,” I said, inhaling the intoxicating, woodsy smell of his newly applied aftershave.
He kissed me, dropping his briefcase so his hands could rove over my naked body. “Feel better,” he said, grabbing my ass one more time and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Text me.”
“I will.”
About a minute after he left, I lifted my phone and saw a message from Heller. How are things going?
I frowned. I’d like to think that he was concerned for my well-being, but Heller had always been all about the business. I’d been a burden to him from the moment I arrived on his doorstep. I typed in, Fine, knowing that wouldn’t be enough.
Then I walked to Gabe’s office and powered up his computer. I typed in the password Eventures83, and voila, just like that, I had access.
Gabe kept his computer as organized as he kept his apartment. I found a folder that said Apps and right before my eyes was a file called LuvMakr.
I plugged in the flash drive, opened it, and dragged the file onto it. It was all so easy. Too damn easy, I thought, as I watched the file load into the drive. I’d like to say it was because Gabe was an easy target, but no. He just had a big, trusting heart. That wasn’t a bad thing. It was a rare thing, and maybe instead of trying to wise him up and make him like every other cheating, lying scumbag on earth, I should’ve just been happy to have found him.
I didn’t want to make those cuts or create those scars anymore. I wanted to preserve this rare quality. Instead of making him like me, I wanted to be more like him.
When the file finished loading, I turned off the computer, closed the lid, and took the drive out. I climbed to my feet, took one step, and my vision swam.
I just made it to the bathroom in time to puke the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I didn’t have much to regurgitate. We’d had soft pretzels and beer last night while watching reality television, but all that really came up was a lot of clear, foul-smelling bile. I heaved, again and again, until I was sure there was nothing left in my stomach.
Great. Was I coming down with something? It was . . . what month was it, now? June? People didn’t get sick in the summer. It was against the laws of nature.
And yet, here I was, feeling like I’d been run over by a steam shovel.
Then my phone buzzed with another message. I thought it was Heller, but I smiled when Gabe’s name came up: How’s my beauty?
I started to type in a reply, until I realized I was grinning goofily. Really? What was wrong with me? I’d just downloaded the document guaranteed to bring me enough money and my freedom, while dooming Gabe Cranford, and yet I couldn’t stop mooning over his texts. What was I? A woman or a lovestruck little girl?
Skipping out of the reply bubble, I looked at the calendar on the display and realized it was the end of June. Since I’d gone on the pill, my periods usually came like clockwork, every twenty-eight days. I could even pinpoint the exact time of day when it’d come — in the late morning to early afternoon, whenever I got up out of bed and let gravity do its thing. It was usually preceded by slight cramping and sore nipples, nothing too terrible. I remembered experiencing that feeling early last week, and expecting I’d wake with it the following day.
And then I hadn’t. And I forgot about it.
And . . . shit.
I sat down, taking deep breaths. How could this happen? I was on the pill, so it shouldn’t even be a question. But okay, I wasn’t the most responsible person in the world when it came to taking it. Sometimes I skipped a day. Or two. Or maybe even . . . three.
Shit.
As that thought settled in my mind, the nausea came on strong. I heaved a couple times into my hand, finally making it to the toilet. This time, it was mostly dry heaves.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was pale and puffy, my eyes rimmed with red circles. My nipples were hard, and they tingled, more sensitive than ever. I’d thought that last night, when Gabe had nibbled on them — they weren’t just sore, they buzzed like a swarm of bees.
Oh, fuck.
I usually took long, luxurious showers in Gabe’s bathroom, because he had an awesome showerhead with just the right amount of water pressure. As much as I wanted to be soothed by the warm steam, this time, I changed into my dress in a flash. I couldn’t find my underwear because we’d undressed in the dark on the couch—they were probably caught among the cushions — but I couldn’t be bothered. Grabbing the flash drive and tucking it into my purse, I locked up Gabe’s apartment and walked a block to the nearest CVS.
I’d never stopped at this particular location in the pharmacy before. I’d never been ashamed, buying condoms, tampons, all that stuff. What difference did it make? But this time, I fumbled through the boxes, my fingertips numb. I picked out the pink package that had a smiling baby on the front. It had three kits in it. Well, I needed to know. And if I fucked the first one up — I’d have backup.
The lady at checkout smiled benevolently at me, but it
didn’t stop me from feeling like I had Not ready to be a parent tattooed on my forehead.
When I got home, I threw my jacket down on the floor of the foyer and raced up to my bathroom, tearing the box of tests out of my purse. I was like a mad woman, ripping one open as I lifted my dress, then plopped down on the toilet with the stick hovering between my legs, trying to force myself to pee. But I was too scared. I didn’t think I’d ever been so afraid in my life.
I finally squeezed out a few drops onto the paper stick, then pulled the indicator out and studied it. Two lines pregnant, one line not, I said to myself, tilting the thing into the sun slashing through the blinds as I waited for the answer to reveal itself.
I saw the one line, easily. There, see? One line. You’re okay.
I sat on the edge of the tub, watching my life of freedom flashing before my eyes. As I started to breathe a sigh of relief, the second line started to emerge.
My heart lodged itself in my throat. I was overcome by dizziness.
I looked closer. The line was fainter, much fainter, than the first one. Barely anything. If I squinted, I couldn’t even see it. So that might not have meant anything.
By that time, I was so nervous that I had to pee again. I squatted on the bowl and ripped open the second test. This time, I got a really good stream going and drenched the paper stick.
“I’ll show you, you fucker,” I growled at the smiling baby on the kit, taunting it. “Just you watch.”
Then I waved the wand in front of me, ready. The first line, just as before, was nice and dark. The second line emerged quicker, this time, but still fainter. I crossed my arms and tossed it across the bathroom, stamping my foot and screaming at the top of my lungs. Before I could get too carried away, though, nausea began to burble low in my stomach. Again.
I looked at my purse. I’d thrown it down on the edge of the tub so quickly that the flash drive had nearly spilled out of it. I looked at it, my freedom, and then back at the kit with the smiling baby on the front.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a shadow of the strong, independent woman I tried to project to the world.