IOU Sex

by Calista Fox

  “Your track record, indeed.” I laughed. “What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever been in?”

  “Nearly three weeks. With you.”

  As I’d suspected. His affairs had a very brief shelf life.

  He continued on. “Ever consider we might still be together if you hadn’t gotten cold feet?”

  “Oh, please. Any day into week three, you would have decided you were bored with me. I did us both a favor. I gave you an out and saved myself from getting dumped. Again.”

  Damn, that hurt.

  I lifted my glass and took a long drink. Tonight was not going the way I’d expected. Somehow, I’d gotten caught in his trap. I still couldn’t figure out why he’d set it. What was he getting at, exactly?

  “You know, Fiona,” he said as he carried his glass across the room and refreshed his beverage. “You’re really good at accepting the chemistry between us when I force it upon you. I mean, that one kiss made me rock-hard, and I’m pretty sure I made you wet.”

  I was taken aback. Not because he was so direct, but because he was so right. About everything.

  He said, “If I’m not constantly riding you about it, you completely deny that we’ve always been attracted to each other. And that I still want you, even after I’ve fucked you.”

  “Mi—”

  “A year later, no less.” This seemed to be a revelation to him because he quickly added, “Don’t you think that means something?”

  “You’ve lost your mind?”

  He smirked at me. It was damn sexy.

  “Is it possible you just haven’t gotten a piece of ass in a while and you’re willing to say anything to get it tonight?” I continued.

  His look this time was not quite so sexy. In fact, it bordered on lethal. “You’ll say anything to jack this up, won’t you?”

  I sighed. He didn’t miss a single trick. “Can we please just focus on why I came over tonight? Are you going with me to Napa or not?”

  “Whose party?”

  Fuck. That question was about to change the course of this conversation. Again, not to my advantage.

  “Please remember I brought over two-hundred dollar Scotch.”

  “Whose party, Fiona?”

  Clearly, I was pissing him off, as babe was no longer part of his vernacular.

  “It’s Lizzie and Seth’s engagement party.” I didn’t bother using my sister’s formal name, as requested by my mother. It’d be one more thing I’d have to explain to him and, by the tense look that crossed his face, I wouldn’t be positioning myself better for this favor if I did.

  As it was, he demanded in an angry tone, “Why the hell are you going?”

  “Michael.” My heart sunk. Perhaps I was wrong. Quite possibly, this was one favor he wouldn’t grant me.

  He drove that point home with an unexpected outburst. “The guy cheated on you. With your sister!”

  “I am all too aware of that fact,” I said, my own temper now sparked. “Thank you very much for reminding me.”

  He pinned me with a serious look. “Now who’s lost their mind?”

  “Damn it.” I threw my hands up in the air. Thankfully, I wasn’t holding my wine at the time. “This isn’t easy for me, and you’re making it even harder. I have to go to this party. It would be really helpful to have someone with me who’s—”

  I lost my breath as those stupid tears filled my eyes again.

  Michael sighed. His look softened as he lifted a hand to my face and brushed away the drops rolling down my flushed cheeks.

  In a quiet voice, I continued. “It’d help if I had someone with me who’s on my side.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him.

  I didn’t fight the tears this time. I let them all out, crying on Michael’s shoulder the way I had a year ago. He’d never hold my hurt feelings against me, whether my bruised pride was Seth or my family’s doing. He’d always been sympathetic and understanding of my sensitivity to these particular slights. One of the many things I adored about him.

  I had no idea how long I sobbed. In fact, I truly had no idea what I was so upset about. Because Seth was happier with Lizzie? That my little sister was getting married before me? Or was it because I felt trapped in my own life, unable to escape my family obligations even when they tore me apart?

  I’d proven I was strong enough to move on after the affair. That I was strong enough to forge my own path by starting a business outside the legal profession, the customary field for Carlisles.

  Why wasn’t I strong enough to stand up to my family and just say no when it came to this engagement party?

  Because they’re your family. A catch-22 I couldn’t escape.

  When I was doing little more than sniffling and hiccupping, I pulled away from Michael. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be.”

  “I know I’m asking a lot, but—”

  “You’re not,” he said as he wiped away more tears with a cocktail napkin. “You know I’ll go. Of course, I’ll go. It’s just that your family…” He shook his head again, in obvious angst.

  “I know.”

  Yet, he felt compelled to say, “They don’t get you.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  It was an uphill battle I’d fought my entire life. Everyone expecting me to be just like them. Me wanting to stand on my own and be the person I wanted to be. I was fairly certain that was why my mother always took Lizzie’s side over mine. Even with the glaring facts of my sister’s twisted, immoral nature staring her in the face.

  As though he knew the direction in which my thoughts ran—and I’m sure he did because he was that perceptive—he said, “My guess is, your sister wanted Seth from the beginning. She was jealous you got into Harvard and she didn’t. She hated that you were dating someone from a more prestigious family than her boyfriend’s. And…you were happier than she was. Of course, she had to make a play for Seth.”

  I rolled my eyes at how shallow my sister could be. “I never threw any of that in her face.”

  “I’d never take you for the type to do that. No one would. Regardless, she couldn’t escape it.”

  “Yeah, well,” I said as I went for the wine again. “It takes two to tango, as they say.”

  “Lizzie is a looker.”

  “Michael.” I slammed my glass down, surprisingly not breaking the stem.

  He speared me with an honest look. “I didn’t say she’s as hot as you, but come on. She’s a pretty little redhead who knows how to bat her eyelashes and pout. And I’m certain that’s not the only way she uses her mouth to get what she wants.”

  I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I remembered when I’d walked into my bedroom on that fateful afternoon my sister and Seth had been in the sixty-nine position. She’d given him one hell of a blowjob as I’d stood there in the doorway watching, shocked into paralysis. They hadn’t even noticed me as they’d changed positions and he’d fucked her ass.

  “Oh, my God.”

  I couldn’t even begin to process how their affair had come about. But I couldn’t lie to myself. It was obvious by how familiar they were with each other’s bodies that they’d been together many times before. My stomach roiled at the thought.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Chapter Four

  When I came out of the bathroom, he was standing in the oversized archway of his bedroom, a shoulder propped against the frame. I’d run to the restroom in his master suite because it was the only one I’d ever used. I had no idea where the guest bath was.

  My stomach, now empty, wasn’t twisted in knots anymore. I’d used a spare toothbrush accumulated from his dentist visits because he used an electric version instead. I’d also swished some mouthwash to make me feel better.

  He said, “You’re not going tomorrow.”

  I gave a half laugh, half snort. “I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t go.”

  “I don’t care. And you
shouldn’t either.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I said.

  “Of course not. But still…don’t go.”

  I sighed. “It’s not just about doing what my family expects or wants me to do.” I crossed the hardwood floor to his king-size bed and sat on the corner of it. “I have something to prove.”

  “No, you don’t.” He moved away from the archway and sat beside me. “You got screwed by your sister and Seth. Neither were the least bit contrite or apologetic about it. And your parents overlooked the slight because of how desperately they want to merge two powerful families.”

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked, because he was dead-on.

  “I spent several afternoons with them when we were together, remember? Doesn’t take a genius to see that your family doesn’t care who marries Seth Corbett as long as it’s someone bearing the Carlisle name.”

  I let out a huffy breath because he was absolutely right. It infuriated me and embarrassed me that I was so gullible, so malleable. “My parents arranged the meeting between us. Encouraged us to date. Were thrilled to pieces when we moved in together—into the apartment they bought for us, no less. Our mothers pushed for an engagement. Meanwhile…Lizzie was having trouble at Boston University, not living up to the Carlisle name or reputation.”

  “Marrying Seth changes all of that,” he pointed out. “Plus, it helps her get back at you for being the smarter, prettier sister.”

  “I don’t subscribe to that,” I admitted. “Life isn’t about being smarter or prettier than someone else. Or taking away what they have in order to make you feel special.”

  He grinned at me. “That’s why I like you so much. You’re just you.”

  I eyed him for a moment then said, “But you’re trying to make me something I’m not.”

  “No,” he was quick to reply. “I’m not trying to make you anything. I’m just trying to get you to own up to your feelings. Accept them.”

  “Not when they have the potential to be detrimental to me,” I told him. “You of all people know I can never again go through what I experienced with Seth.”

  He frowned. “You’re essentially lumping me onto the same shit pile as him.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  He challenged me with a stern look.

  I smiled, busted yet again. “Okay, yes.” I took his hand in mine and gave it a quick squeeze as a nonverbal mea culpa. “I lump all men onto the shit pile these days. But…I know you’re different. I’m not trying to make you feel like a heel. I’m just trying to spare myself more heartache. Can you understand that?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  We were both silent for a few moments. I was surprised by how much we’d both owned up to tonight, but it felt good to talk about all the messiness in my life and the peculiarities of our friendship.

  He lifted my hand to his warm lips and kissed it. A very sweet and oh-so-Michael-like gesture. “I get the reason why you plan to go to the party tomorrow. I don’t agree with it because I think you’re setting yourself up for more bullshit from your family. But I do get it.”

  I smiled again. “That’s because you get me.”

  “Yeah, I do. So I’ll go with you.” He rested our entwined hands in his lap. “You and I will go for the fun of it. The booze, the food, the dancing. We’ll have a great time, and it’ll drive your family insane to see us enjoying ourselves while they all bicker about who’s more successful and who works harder. We’ll have a blast. To hell with them.”

  I felt the waterworks start again because he truly was a very special person and I adored him more than words could ever express, despite my overwhelming paranoia of being swallowed up by my attraction to him. I’d had enough of the tears for one night, though, so I pushed them back. “You really are the best.”

  He grinned that cocky grin that made my heart flutter. “You’re gonna owe me, yanno?”

  I laughed. “That’s why I brought the Scotch.”

  “Oh, no.” A playful glint lit his blue eyes. “That’s not going to cut it this time. I’m going into the lion’s den with you, babe. Tomorrow is a date. I want you to treat it like one.”

  I stared at him for a moment because I could practically see the wheels churning in his head. “And?”

  “And,” he added with a grin, “I want it to last the entire weekend. Starting tonight.”

  He continued to stun me. My emotions were running high this evening. Yet this was one man who knew how to keep up with them…and push the limits with me.

  “Does this date include I.O.U. sex?” I had to ask.

  “As a matter of fact…” He winked.

  My insides heated up all over again. He had that effect on me. Perhaps, subconsciously, I’d known going into this that we’d end up sleeping together. It was time to admit that was exactly what I wanted. Maybe even more than the favor.

  Teasing him, I said, “Damn, it’s too late to take back the Scotch. You already opened the bottle.”

  “I deserve a bonus for having to deal with your hard head.”

  “I’m not intentionally trying to be difficult. Just…sensible. Realistic.”

  “Try being romantic.” With that, he leaned over and kissed me again. A much softer, more leisurely kiss. Likely because he no longer needed to prove to me we were hot for each other.

  I didn’t run away this time. Rather, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him guide me down onto the bed. His weight on me felt heavenly, something I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until this very moment. His fingers went to work on the buttons of my blouse, and I didn’t dare stop him. I banished all insecurities and doubts to the far recesses of my mind. I wouldn’t ruin this by obsessing over what it meant or how long it would last. At the moment, those things didn’t matter. How Michael made me feel did.

  His hand cupped my breast and gave it a gentle squeeze, causing me to squirm on the bed. Then he whisked aside the lacy cups of my bra and caught one hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and pinching it. Anticipation welled within me as his slightly calloused hands swept over my bare skin. Those hours he spent on his motorcycle left his palms with a rugged edge that excited me as he caressed my breasts and rubbed his thumb across my nipple.

  In a heartbeat, I was breathless and tingly from head to toe. I tore my mouth from his and gasped for air as electric sensations shot through me.

  “Good Lord.” I barely managed to get the words out before his head dipped and he took the other taut peak in his mouth, sucking on it. A moan slipped from my lips.

  His hair smelled like the pomegranate shampoo he used, and his own low groan of desire heightened my arousal. He released my aching nipples and shifted on the bed.

  “No, no,” I protested, not ready to move on from the sexual bliss he’d ignited. But he gave me a lascivious look that assured me there was bigger and better foreplay right around the corner. He gripped my hips and with one quick movement, flipped me onto my stomach.

  I laughed as I stared at him over my shoulder. “Don’t do anything too kinky back there.”

  “If only you knew the thoughts rattling around inside my head.”

  “I have a few good ideas.” He’d fucked me before, after all. Many, many times.

  He quickly slid the zipper of my skirt down the track and divested me of that item of clothing. Then he removed my shirt and unhooked my bra. The material slid down my arms and he tossed it aside.

  I glanced over my shoulder again and found him staring at my ass. His jaw was clenched tight as though he were considering where to start. Then his hands cupped my bare cheeks with a firm grip.

  “Nice panties,” he said of the black lace thong that matched my bra.

  He let go of my cheeks and hooked his fingers in the sides of my skimpy lingerie before dragging them slowly down my legs. Once my thong was discarded, his hands splayed over the backs of my thighs, moving slowly upward, the thumbs caressing the inner portions. My flesh qui
vered, and my stomach tumbled in a way I hadn’t felt since the last time I was with Michael. His skin was warm against mine. Again, not exactly smooth, but definitely manly, creating a hint of friction that made my pussy throb.

  I continued to stare at him over my shoulder as his hands inched higher. The way he looked at me stole my breath. He devoured me with eyes that had turned a deep shade of blue and which seemed incapable of looking away from me.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said in a strained voice.

  I was surprised I could find my own. “There you go again with the flirting.”

  “Told you I can’t help it. Not when it comes to you.”

  I really had no idea what had gotten into him tonight. Nor did I want to question his actions, motives or words at this point. Admittedly, it felt wonderful to be wanted again. To be desired by such a talented, successful and ultrahot man. One I thought so highly of, no less. It was exactly what I needed this evening, even if I hadn’t realized it at first.

  When he reached my butt again, one hand slid over a cheek. The other slid between my parted legs. His fingers grazed my slick folds, massaging and teasing.

  Not only did I love the way he touched me, but the look on his face made all my earlier insecurities fall by the wayside. He stared at me as though he’d never seen anything quite like me. I also saw determination in his blue irises that told me he intended to make me come over and over and over.

  My pussy clenched at the thought. I knew how skilled he was, and that made the fire roar through my body. I was ridiculously hot. Likely wetter than ever.

  His fingers brushed my clit, jolting me to the core of my being. My hips lifted, pushing my ass a little higher in the air. And giving him better access to me.

  “You can’t imagine how long I’ve waited to do this to you again,” he said.

  “You can’t imagine how hard it’s been not to beg you to do this to me again.”

  He frowned. “You never have to beg with me.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. He’d always been ready and willing to please.