by M. S. Parker
Then I was trapped between him and something else – hot, hard, smooth. The garage.
My skirt was yanked up, my panties yanked away.
“Adam,” I said, my voice shaking.
He stroked two fingers down my slit. “You’re already wet. Is this for me?”
“Yes.” Groaning, I let my head fall back, shuddering when those two fingers penetrated me, pumping in and out. “Oh. Please don’t…please don’t stop.”
He twisted them, screwing his wrist as he thrust deep inside me and I felt each nuance, each of his fingers pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
I clamped down, already so close to coming. Needing the release badly. Everything inside me tightened as he stroked my g-spot, the heel of his hand pressed against my clit.
“Stop.”
Dazed, I stared up at him, trying to understand.
He’d stopped. He told me to stop.
I didn’t… “What?”
“I want you to come around my dick like that. Nothing else – unless it’s my face, later on.”
I went red at the image, even as parts of me threatened to melt all over again.
The rasping of his zipper seemed terribly loud, and I looked around. “But…Reaper, we’re outside.”
“I know. We’re fine. It’s private.”
I looked around, still nervous and realized that three sides were completely shielded, one by the garage, two by the trellis. The third faced out over nothing, absolutely nothing.
My skirt was twisted in his hand, and he dragged it up. My knees went weak, and I sagged back against the wall. But Adam caught my hip and tugged me in closer. I started to wrap my arms around him, but he turned me around and guided both hands to the wall, nudging me forward.
His cock passed over my ass, then the head slid down my slit, probing me while spreading the slick moisture of my arousal.
“I’m not wearing a rubber, O. You’ve gone and pushed me too far to care. Last chance…”
“That boat has come and gone,” I whispered, then cried out when he drove in, not caring that we were outside, where anybody could hear.
Reaper slid a hand around my hip, arrowing straight down, and when he brushed my clit, I twisted against his fingers, blinded by the pleasure. “Please, oh, please…”
He grabbed my hair and turned my head until our mouths met, his teeth biting and nipping at my lower lip. I was panting, struggling to breathe, pleasure crashing into me until I came.
Letting go of my hair, he grabbed my hips and thrust harder, not giving me time to recover. His fingers dug into my skin as our bodies slapped together, the music of our lovemaking filling my ears.
He pressed the tip of his thumb against my anus, and I clutched at the side of the garage, needing something to hold onto.
“You feel so good,” he whispered and breached the tight muscle, filling me everywhere, overwhelming me with all the different sensations moving through me.
“Please…”
His hand was in my hair again, pulling my head back, taking my mouth while his cock and thumb thrust into me in tandem. I was pressed into the building, taking what he was giving me, and loving it.
“Please what?” he said against my lips.
I was whimpering, so full, another orgasm quickly approaching, rushing at me like a speeding train. He moved harder, faster, his thick cock skewering me over and over.
When I came, I bit into the fist I’d pressed into my mouth to muffle the scream.
“What are you going to do?”
Reaper lay against my back, and when I spoke, he groaned and buried his face in my hair. After a few seconds, he said, “I’m going to lay here for a few more minutes, then I’m going to drag you under the shower outside and fuck you again.”
Rolling to face him, I reached up and cupped his cheek. “That’s not what I meant.”
He kissed my palm. “I know what you meant, O.”
I didn’t think he was going to say anything else. But after a few minutes, he swung his legs over the double wide chaise lounge we’d flopped on. It was tucked under the broad shelter of the roof of the little shed where his mother had kept her tools for her garden. It wasn’t some boring old work shed, either. He’d turned it into a beautiful little space with lights, chairs, a mini fridge, a porch with a roof, and the chaise lounge. I’d seen these before – she-sheds, they called them online. He should have looked ridiculously out of place in all the fussy, frilly femininity, but he just looked more insanely masculine. Sitting there with his muscled back rigid, Reaper stared out over the yard. The blue-green water of the pool rippled, beckoning like an oasis.
“I don’t want this mess, O,” he said softly. “My life is enough of a mess as it is. I don’t even know what to do with myself now, and he’s got me dealing with…this.”
I didn’t want to complicate things even more, so I stayed quiet. But James wasn’t just looking to connect with his son. He wanted that more than anything, but there were…other things.
Stroking a hand down his back, I debated on what to tell him and finally decided I couldn’t not say anything. “You realize that in a few months, he’ll be gone. Your life will still be complicated, and you’ve got plenty of time to think through what you’re going to do. But you won’t have him. This is pretty much the only chance you have. And he’s a good man. Do you want to give up this one and only chance?”
“He had a hundred chances – no, more. What’s three-hundred-sixty-five times twenty-nine?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his voice.
“He explained why he waited.”
“Shit.” Shoving upright, Reaper started to pace, moving to the door and staring out for a moment before coming back to look down at me. The indecision in his eyes left me feeling bruised. I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to him. I didn’t want to.
Rising, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
He stayed rigid, unyielding.
When I pulled back, the blue of the water caught my eye yet again.
So I took his hand. “Come on.”
He didn’t move at first, but I kept insisting.
“You know what?” I said as we drew closer to the pool. “I’ve never once gone skinny-dipping, Adam Dedman. Not once.”
He glanced around. “It’s not even five o’clock, O. The privacy fence makes it harder for people to see, not impossible.”
I grinned at him as I pulled off my dress. “If they’re looking, then it’s their own damn fault. Come play, Reaper.”
I turned and dove in, started to swim.
When he joined me a minute later, something inside eased.
Then he caught up with me and wrapped me in his arms, taking me down, our legs tangling, his mouth fusing over mine. Just when I thought my lungs would burst, he gave a few powerful kicks, and we broke the surface of the water.
“You want to drown me,” I muttered against his lips.
“Relax…I’m CPR certified and then some. Take a breath.”
I did. We were back under the water in seconds, and he stole my breath again.
“I’ll give it a chance,” Reaper said over a dinner of pizza and cheap beer.
I loved the pizza, hated the beer and almost choked on a sip when he said those words, so casually he might have been discussing the weather.
I grabbed the can, took another drink, a healthier one, the taste enough to make me gag, but at least I stopped feeling like I was going to choke on my shock.
Putting the can down, I swiped my hands on my jeans, then left them there so I wouldn’t fidget. “Yeah?”
Reaper drank some water from a bottle – he’d told me he was cutting back on the alcohol. I should have asked for water myself, but when he’d asked me if I wanted a beer, I’d replied on autopilot, not expecting something cheap enough to peel paint from the walls.
“Yeah,” he said, giving me a short nod after he put the bottle down and took another slice of pizza. “Figure you’re right. I got a long time to re
gret making the wrong choice. If he turns out to be an asshole, I can always change my mind, and it will be his loss, not mine. But if he’s a decent guy…” He ended in a shrug. “Besides, it’s not like I got much of anybody else now.”
You’ve got me –
The words leaped to my lips, and I almost let them out.
But that was insane.
We barely knew each other, and if he decided not to stick around, then he wouldn’t have me. Somebody had to stay here, had to be there for Clarion.
That somebody would be me if Reaper refused to step up.
“I don’t think you’ll regret it,” I murmured.
Muscles shifted under smooth golden skin, mostly bared by the white tank he’d pulled on after we’d showered earlier. “We’ll see.” Slanting a look at me, he said, “Maybe you’ll see about spilling whatever secrets you’re holding onto now. Yeah?”
“Secrets?” My stomach twisted. Here I’d been thinking I was so good at hiding my reactions, my thoughts, my worries. But he’d seen something.
“Yeah. Secrets. You’ve got them in your eyes. I saw them on day one. When are you going to tell me whatever it is you’ve got to tell me’?”
Giving him a brilliant smile, I replied, “When I’m ready to. Besides, it’s not really my secret.”
10
Reaper
Clarion was a monster.
The company, not the man.
Its headquarters were located in Cincinnati, but apparently, James – my father – had offices in Germany, Moscow, Mexico City and several other international locations, not to mention the manufacturing plants located in the US.
One of the largest securities firms in the world, they handled weapons and securities for both the public and private sectors, and word had it that they were in talks to become the lead distributor of firearms to the US military.
That was a BFD – big fucking deal.
I was familiar with several Clarion models and couldn’t find any fault in them. Headquarters had several shooting ranges, a research and development lab, plus think tanks for all those experts in the field weapons.
Some might see Clarion as a place devoted to death.
In reality, Clarion was devoted to protecting life. Its security arm – developing armor, home intruder systems and other means of protecting self and home – were just as large and prolific as the weapons development.
“And they want to sell that part of the company off?” I asked, staring at the proposal in front of me. It looked like a bunch of foreign language, but there were a few things that made sense, and those were the numbers at the bottom.
They just didn’t add up.
“What are your thoughts on it?” James asked.
“I think they need to go take a course in basic math,” I said bluntly.
He broke out into a laugh.
It had been ten days since we’d had lunch – since O had come over and all but blown my mind in the backyard of my mother’s house. The next day, I’d driven to the address she’d left for me and found James sitting down to a breakfast of oatmeal and grapefruit.
I told him it looked about as appetizing as it sounded, and he agreed.
“So why are you eating it?” I asked. “Your doctor said you’ve got three months. Eat whatever the hell you want.”
O had given me a look like I was insane.
James had smiled. A few minutes later, he had a lavish plate of bacon, eggs, and waffles sitting in front of him, and his eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head.
I’d asked for the same.
Since then, we’d had dinner a few times, and we actually went fishing over the weekend at his stocked, private lake.
This week, he’d asked me if I’d enjoy taking a look around Clarion.
I’d almost said no, but he mentioned the new weapons they were developing. That sealed the deal.
“It does seem like they’ve forgotten the simple art of figuring out which number is bigger,” James said, referring to the projected income losses I was looking at. His eyes narrowed. “The damn board is meeting to discuss this proposal in thirty minutes. I’d like you to come in and tell them that very thing.”
“I…what?”
He lifted a shoulder and waved a hand around. “Come in and tell the board what you just said. It’s time I introduced you anyway.”
“Why?”
At that moment, O stepped into his office, carrying a slim file. She was dressed in a suit that almost looked like the clothes she would have worn before whatever transformation she’d undergone, save for a few small differences. The pants were fitted along her waist and hips before going looser and flowing down those long, long legs.
The white blouse had a rounded collar, almost school-girlish, giving it a feminine softness under the waist-length cropped jacket. She looked sexy and stylish and sharp.
Ten hours ago, she’d been pressed against the wall of the shower in my bathroom, moaning my name as I licked at the folds between her thighs, then crying out as I drove my dick into her.
As if sensing my thoughts, she looked at me, a faint blush on her cheeks.
“Hello, Adam.”
“O.” I studied her mouth for a long moment, just to see if I could get her to blush some more.
She did, and as she moved to stand behind James, she mouthed, Stop it.
I grinned.
“Will you be joining us, Adam?” James asked again, reminding me of our discussion.
It took a few seconds to recall what we’d been talking about.
The board meeting. Introducing me.
“Why do you want to introduce me?” I asked.
James canted his head to the side. “You’re my son.”
“And…that’s got what to do with the board?”
O laid a hand on James’s shoulder and held the file out to him.
He accepted it without even looking at her.
“As of yesterday, Adam, you’ve been named primary beneficiary in my will.”
11
Reaper
I felt like I’d been sucker-punched.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.
Maybe I should have expected this.
But I felt like somebody had swung an ax at my head, and I’d just barely escaped with it still attached.
Even now, forty minutes into this meeting with the board members, sitting down at a long table, wearing a pair of khakis and a polo shirt, surrounded by a bunch of men in suits, I felt more out of place than I’d ever felt in my life.
I wanted a drink – badly.
I wanted to get up and get the hell out of there – badly.
O stood behind me, and at that moment, she brushed her fingers across my shoulder, almost like she could read my mind. If she could, I wouldn’t be surprised.
These windbags were rambling on about how they could make so much more money and become so much more efficient if they focused all their energy on their primary moneymaker, and all I wanted to do was ask James what in the hell he was thinking.
He’d gone on to tell me that as his primary beneficiary, I’d inherit his stock in Clarion, and I’d take his place. O, of course, would be there to assist me in whatever capacity I needed. She had a ten-year contract with the company, and her position was secure. Only she could end the contract without serious financial compensation.
Not that I’d even consider getting rid of her.
Shit, you sound like you’re considering doing this.
I couldn’t do it.
There was no way.
But it wasn’t like I had any control over what a man did with his will, did I? That didn’t mean I had to accept it, though. If I didn’t…
“James, old boy, I understand you’ve had some health issues, and maybe it’s just because you’ve let O take on so much responsibility, but the facts are simply the facts.”
That placating tone cut through the fog in my head, and I looked up to see a thin weasel of a man smiling at
James. He gave O a smirking smile, one that seemed to say, What does this twit know about what we do?
Then he tapped the report in front of him. I had a copy of it too.
“Facts are facts,” I heard myself saying. “You’re damn right about that. And the fact of the matter is, you idiots sitting around this table here have forgotten basic math skills.”
All eyes came to me. I hadn’t spoken a word since I walked in, hadn’t introduced myself or anything.
At first, people were curious, then they ignored me. Now I found myself the center of attention. Reaching out, I flipped to the pages where they broke down the numbers and started crunching them. “People can rig numbers and slant facts all they want. But some of these fees, the intake.” I tapped the paper. “This is money you’re bleeding – you’re not making it.” I shoved my paper across the table, the red and green marks I’d made the last few minutes standing out in stark contrast. “Now, maybe you all are used to those tricks like moving money from column A to column B and thinking that will hide the facts, but the bottom line is that you make just as much money up front with the home defense systems. Then, on top of that, there’s the money that comes in from the monthly service that goes along with the home service. Easy money. You do little for it. You’d be an idiot to drop it.”
I moved on to a few other things I’d noticed in the reports I’d read, watching as the weasel’s face slowly went redder and redder.
Several times, one of them would try to interject and cut me off, but I just kept talking, using a calm, easy voice. Since they all seemed to want to hear what I had to say, they eventually went quiet.
Once I was done, the man who’d been seated in the chair directly across from James leaned forward, jabbing the air with the pen he held. “Mind telling me just who you are, son?”
“Don’t call me son,” I advised. I dismissed him and looked over at James, taking in once more the similarities between us – the eyes, the hair, the shape of his face and mine, our hands. Even the way we sat was almost identical. He’d done one tour in the military, only one, but that posture, the way he walked and sat and stood, it was something that tended to stay with a person. It wasn’t just the posture though. There was no denying the physical similarities between us. Anybody who looked for it would see it.