Dirty Ties

by Pam Godwin

  “Jesus, Kaci. Look at you.”

  I glanced down at my body, at the red lace bra, black satin and rhinestone garter belt, and sheer thigh-high stockings. When I returned to his eyes, mine narrowed. Look at what? The expensive lingerie? Or my rapidly-approaching-forty physique? I crossed my arms over my belly.

  He crouched, eye-level with the naked apex of my legs, and skimmed his hands over my skin, touching everywhere but not committing to one spot, like he couldn’t decide where to start.

  The caress of his fingers heated my inner thighs, the dip in my waist, and along the ridges of my ribs. His eyes followed the trail of his hands, his back rising and falling through heavy breaths. The muscled indentations in his wide shoulders twitched through the movement. He focused on me with every part of his body.

  No one had ever looked at me like that before, like nothing had come before that moment and everything after would pale in comparison.

  A strange feeling constricted my throat. I didn’t know what to do with that, and whenever I was flustered, I said stupid shit. “I’m not twenty anymore.”

  He dropped his forehead on my mound and breathed out a groan. “Thank fuck for that.”

  That surprised me, which made me wonder… “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-two.” His whiskers scratched as his mouth pressed between my legs, the only warning I had before he bit down on the piercing and tugged with his teeth.

  His assault might’ve been unbearable, but that tongue, holy hell… With a few well-placed and toe-curling licks, he brought me to another orgasm so fast my head spun.

  Gasping and shaking from my release, I looked down. “Jesus, Logan. No more. I can’t.”

  The irresistible arch of his eyebrow twitched. In the next moment, his hands were everywhere, frantically wrestling off the bra and garters as he walked us to the bed. The stockings went next.

  During his fight with my clothes, I managed to strip off his shirt. I was still struggling with his jeans when he gripped my waist, lifted my body off the floor and flung me.

  I landed on the bed, and he followed me down, shoving and kicking off his boxers and pants.

  Finally naked, his hips rolled over mine, one hand sliding up my ribs, fingers latching onto my nipple. The other grappled with the box of condoms.

  Chest-to-chest, skin-on-skin, the hard weight of his body felt excruciatingly perfect. His cock prodded my entrance, his pelvis grinding with urgency.

  He fumbled with a foil package, bringing it to his mouth, his teeth tearing into it. “Fuck, baby. I need inside you so badly it hurts.”

  I grabbed the rubber from his hand, and reaching between our sweat-slicked bodies, I rolled it on and positioned him. The instant I pulled my hands away, he thrust.

  Our foreheads came together, and we groaned in unison. Deep and merciless, the drag of his cock stretched me open and filled me up, the friction of his thrusts shooting sparks of pleasure down my legs. I rolled my hips into each drive of his, but when he found his rhythm, all I could do was hang on. He moved fast and achingly wild, his attack mindlessly animalistic as he pounded into me over and over.

  The mattress creaked with his thrusts, his ass flexing beneath my hands. With his forearms beside my head, holding up his weight, and his body stretched over mine, he caged me in. Shoving harder, deeper, his hips pushed my body up the mattress until my head touched the headboard.

  It was brutal and unhinged, the bed frame banging against the wall and my insides twinging with each stabbing plunge. But this time was different. It felt more intimate than the first, like the only thing between us was…acceptance.

  He held my face in his hands, showing me with the heat in his eyes how incredible it felt. The stroke of his thumbs along my cheeks told me how much he enjoyed my body. And when he captured my mouth, his fervent licks expressed exactly how much he wanted me.

  Something warm and needy and hopeful pinched in my chest. He hadn’t been hired to make me feel this way. His salary wasn’t dependent on his performance. And he certainly wasn’t here to please Collin. He was here for me alone.

  But I couldn’t have forever. Hell, I couldn’t even hope for more than one night.

  I closed my eyes, opened them. He was a hot guy in a bar. A hard cock to massage an ache. And this was sex, raw and beautiful fucking. Nothing more.

  And I would savor every second of it.

  The kiss grew more insistent and feverish, the piston of his cock bringing me to that glorious edge. My hand tangled in his hair as heat shivered up and down my legs. My back arched, my nipples hardened, and my nails dug into his skin.

  When I reached the peak, a piercing moan tore my throat. My body jerked as the orgasm pulled through me in violent waves. The implosion melted everything inside me, caving in my chest and taking him with me.

  Fuck if it wasn’t the most amazing thing I’d ever encountered, feeling his body shudder above me and watching the swollen flesh of his bottom lip roll inward as he bit down. His gaze clung to mine as he released that lip and opened his mouth in a grunting shout. His muscles shook. The cords in his neck stretched tight, and he pounded his hips, relentlessly, milking his release until the very last drop.

  The scent of sex tinged the air. Perspiration slicked our skin. And despite the exhaustion of energy and arousal, we couldn’t pull away from each other, couldn’t look away, as if we were hanging onto the moment for as long as possible.

  Lowering his head, he touched his mouth to mine, sliding his lips in a long, tender acknowledgment. I felt his gratitude in the swirl of his tongue, his wonderment in the weight of his breath, and a plea in his parting nibble.

  He rolled off me, his gorgeous body sprawling over half of the bed, his chest still heaving with exertion. One hand stripped off the condom and dropped it on the floor, the other reached for my fingers, lacing them with his. Palms together, he pulled our joined hands against the hard bricks of his abs.

  I tried not to think about how that simple connection made me feel and instead focused on the heavy rasps of his breaths and the soothing caress of his thumb across my knuckles.

  As our heart rates slowed, I waited for him to fall asleep. Would I wake him before I left? Or skip the goodbye and sneak away with my composure intact?

  His breathing changed, and his weight shifted beside me. “Break time’s over.”

  Break time? I laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  He jack-knifed into a sitting position, gripped my thighs, and pulled my body between his legs. Then, with my knees hooked over his shoulders and his hands suspending my hips in the air, he buried his face in my pussy.

  I didn't think it was possible, but he made it happen. He took me there, kicking and panting and moaning my release.

  As the shuddering faded from my limbs, he lowered my hips to the bed, swatted my ass, and rumbled in a syrupy voice, “Your turn.”

  And so it went. I took him in my mouth, and he took me against the wall. Then he took me on the bathroom counter, bent over the dresser, and doggie-style on the floor. When his finger prodded my anus and I pushed against his touch, he took me there, too.

  We guzzled all the bottled water in the mini-fridge before, after, and during. He might’ve only had two or three orgasms, but the man was a fucking machine, his stamina outrageously inhuman.

  No matter how bone-weary and replete I became, it only took his insatiable kiss to coax me again and again. Our lips remained fused for so long the malt and mint flavor of his breath embedded in my tastebuds. All I could taste was him.

  Hours passed, days, a lifetime. With my body draped over his, strong arms around my back, and his fingers combing through my hair, time didn’t exist. Nothing existed outside this room.

  But as soon as I had that thought, it made everything real. My job. My gay husband. Our contract. Time.

  I glanced at the clock beside the bed. 3:36 AM. Time to pull away from this dream and walk out that door. And never see him again.

  I slid my che
ek from his chest and blinked into his heavy-lidded eyes. “Stay another day, two, whatever. Just stay.”

  The hand in my hair tightened. He yanked, jerking my head back and bringing my face to his. As he stared at me, the gold in his eyes oscillated with a million thoughts. Was he considering it?

  His fist tightened. “I asked for one night, Kaci. You said you could handle it.”

  A swallow hung in my throat. I’d meant what I’d said, with a tiny amendment. “I don’t want to be your one night. I want to be your best night.”

  His sculpted face, shadowed with whiskers, softened. “You already are.”

  His response incapacitated me as the hand in my hair loosened, lowering to brush a wayward lock behind my ear. The caress trailed over my jaw and lingered on my lips. Not in a seductive way but in a final way.

  Unspoken words shifted through his eyes. But their depths locked down, preventing his thoughts from escaping, shutting me out. Everything not said formed a black hole between us, dense and unknown and inevitable.

  Time to go.

  I swallowed down the clinging lump in my throat and climbed off the bed. Without analyzing, without peering over my shoulder, I collected my phone from the chair by the door and sent a text to Collin.

  Me: Send a car. The Bells Hotel.

  I hated waking Collin, but he knew which driver would be the most discreet about retrieving his wife from a hotel at this hour. A moment later, his message popped up.

  Collin: 15 min

  I dressed in silence and, thanks to my shitty willpower, stole glances at the bed.

  Logan lay on his back with the sheet gathered around his waist, his eyes tracking me. His arms folded behind his head, the curvature of his biceps on mouth-watering display. Even now, exhausted and sore, I couldn’t help but trace the bunching muscles in his abs with my gaze. Committing them to memory.

  Something I’d never done before. My usual post-coital awkwardness was a naked walk back to my room, avoiding the feel of the man’s gaze.

  But standing here, dressed and anxious with my purse tucked beneath my arm, I searched his unreadable eyes for…something. Anything.

  In a mesmerizing glide of masculine nudity, he rose from the bed and closed the distance between us. Cupping the back of my head, he touched his mouth to my lips, my forehead, and kissed the part in my hair.

  “Unforgettable, Kaci.” He leaned back, a small smile creasing his gorgeous face.

  I nodded and returned his smile as a desperate plea crawled up my throat.

  One night…Can you handle that?

  I bit down on my tongue and stepped away from his hold.

  My insides fluttered as I walked to the door. My gut twisted as I shut it behind me. By the time I crossed the empty lobby and stepped outside, my stomach roiled with the ugly pangs of goodbye.

  My gait quickened at the sight of the shiny, black limo waiting on the curb. The passenger door swung open as I approached, and a familiar hand reached out for mine.

  Collin tugged me inside and closed the door. As the limo rolled forward, his arm looped around my shoulders and tugged me against his side.

  I set down my purse and rested my hand on his thigh. “You didn't have to come.”

  But I was glad he did. We could gossip like schoolgirls all the way home about the dirty things I did with a totally hot stranger. I let my head relax on his arm.

  His denim-clad legs sprawled in the aisle, and leather house-slippers covered his feet. “We were still awake.”

  We? I leaned up and squinted at the shadowed end of the limo. Sure enough, there was Seth with his head back and eyes closed.

  My insides constricted. Collin trusted him, but my gut didn’t. It was one thing to sleep with a married man, but to witness his wife crawl from another man’s bed? He knew too much about our lifestyle, and he could make a killing off the sordid details.

  Collin pressed his lips to my temple. “Don’t worry about him. I wore him out.” He leaned back to look at me under the flicker of the passing streetlights. “You look pretty worn out yourself.”

  For the first time in hours, I considered my appearance. Tangled hair, wrinkled dress, smudged mascara, no panties. Hickies and swollen lips.

  The backs of my eyes burned with an achy sense of loss. I had dreamed about a night like this so many times, had longed for a man like Logan for so long. A man exactly like him, in fact, with a dark helmet and a commanding presence. And now that it was over, now that he was gone, I wasn’t even sure it had been real.

  Collin cupped my cheek, his thumb swiping over the whisker-burn there. “You look lovingly worn out.” He grinned. “Tell me everything.”

  Even at four in the morning, the short waves of his midnight hair were combed to perfection. His blue eyes glimmered with excitement as he settled into the seat and waited.

  I wanted to let it all spill out. The dancing, the lack of conversation, my insecurities, Logan’s stamina, and the ache that now plagued my stomach. I glanced across the limo, and a flashing headlight illuminated the whites of Seth’s eyes.

  Motherfucker. He was Collin’s lover, not my best friend. I couldn’t share the details of my one-night stand in front of him. Yet one more way he’d wedged himself between Collin and me.

  I flattened my hand on Collin’s thigh, staring at it. “It was nice.”

  His arm stiffened around me. He knew I wasn’t going to talk, and he knew why. When I looked up at him, he was staring at Seth with a pensive expression. He lowered his lips to my ear and whispered, “Fair enough. But I want to hear it all when we get home.”

  I nodded then narrowed my eyes at the strange look on his face. “What?”

  “Bet you didn’t think about the races once tonight.” He rubbed the cleft on his chin. “Or about your sexy elevator ride with Mr. Mysterious.”

  He was right about that. Logan had successfully owned every part of me, all the way down to the thoughts in my head.

  “No, I didn’t.” I glanced at Seth, and he shut his eyes, a smile curling the corner of his mouth. I really didn’t like him knowing about my run-in with Evader.

  Collin slouched deeper into the seat, pulling me against his chest with an arm around my back. “Sounds like tonight might’ve soothed that ache you’ve been nursing.”

  A testament to how well he knew me. Not once had I mentioned my anger after the encounter with Evader. Hell, I could barely acknowledge it myself.

  Evader. Just thinking his name sent a shiver through me. And that was what confused me. When I thought of Logan? Same damned shiver. I refused to pine for two men. I didn’t want two men.

  I wanted one. The one. A companion, a lover, someone to hold me at night and kiss me awake in the morning. Someone to fight with. Someone to fight for me.

  I wanted legendary love. Love intensified to its highest power. The kind that would fill the vacancy in my heart with a simple touch, a thought, a broody glare.

  But my circumstances didn’t allow that kind of relationship. So I filled the emptiness with sex, with the hope that maybe it would bring…something more, like a one-night stand with fire and fight.

  Which I’d found with both Evader and Logan.

  But did either of those nights soothe the emptiness?

  I was pretty sure I just traded one ache for another.

  The next morning, I tried to keep the limp out of my strides as I stepped off the elevator on the executive floor. The Timex watch was a heavy weight in my hand, and my toes pinched in the godawful heels. But I was hiding much more than that. Like the hickies around my nipples, the red marks on my ass, and the soreness between my legs. A very good soreness.

  Smiling to myself, I rounded the next corner with a straighter spine and a raised chin. My gait relaxed, my poise smoothing into confident professionalism.

  The cute, blonde assistant, Alicia, gave me a smile and a “Morning, Mrs. Baskel,” which I returned as I entered Trent’s wing. Despite the pangs in my body and the dragging weight of no sleep, I fe
lt remarkably alive, my skin zinging with wild energy. Once I delivered the watch, maybe I’d leave for the day, take the bike out, and embrace this invigorating attitude at a hundred miles per hour.

  I’d like to embrace Logan at that speed.

  Oh wait. I kind of already did.

  But if I really let myself fantasize, the man beneath Evader’s helmet would be Logan, and the hundred-miles-per-hour embrace would be on a BMW S1000RR. I sighed.

  At the end of the corridor, I knocked on the pretentious double doors and stared down at the watch in my hand, its mystery still locked inside. I’d just left the I/T floor, where Raj Kannan told me in his heavy Malayalam accent, “Metal fused together, Mrs. Baskel. I open it and casing will break.”

  And Trent would know I’d tampered with it. What kind of message did it hold? My God, what kind of message needed to be delivered in such a cryptic way?

  I checked my watch, adjusted the phone where it sat out of sight in my bra, and knocked again. The bastard better be in there. He’d told me—demanded—a ten o’clock meeting.

  The door swung open. Inside, the noble Chicago skyline emblazoned the back wall of windows, creating an ironic backdrop for the slithering smile that greeted me.

  “Right on time.” Trent’s gaze roamed my body, like the slimy journey of a slug.

  Shuddering, I held up the watch and snapped, “You’re welcome.”

  His fingers lingered on mine before he pocketed it in his gray slacks. “Was there a message?”

  I stepped back to put space between us. “Time’s up.”

  His smile didn’t move, but his eyes flickered.

  My shoulders itched to curl forward, to protect my core from the insidious aura that clung to him, but I held my back as relaxed as possible. “What happens on October twenty-seventh?”

  Hands in his pockets, he glanced at his overpriced loafers and returned to my face. “On October twenty-seventh, McDonald’s will sell six million hamburgers and increase the global fat scale by another basis point. And statistics say the population will improve with the deaths of twenty-five more gang-bangers. And who knows? Maybe that will be the day an earthquake wipes out some third-world country no one gives a shit about.”