Flirting with Revenge

by Kristel Ralston

  When Veronica opened the door, Michael’s mouth almost dropped open, literally. What a woman! She took his breath away. Just looking at her removed the bittersweet taste of what he’d just experienced at the office. He needed to forget all his cares, and Veronica was the perfect solution.

  The exuberant redhead managed to shatter all his safeguards. Not even with Ingrid, his ex-wife had the attraction been as intense as when he met Veronica. Something told him that the connection he felt with her went down to his cellular memory. Or maybe the stress of the day was taking its toll.

  “You look stunning,” he said sincerely.

  “Thank you. You look great as well,” she replied, holding back words that could describe him more eloquently; she did not want to boost his ego. Because, let’s see, who said GQ models could only be found on runways and photo sessions? Standing there, with his tailored suit, no tie, and three buttons of his impeccable shirt undone, Michael Whitmore looked like he could be posing for a women’s magazine. But he was alone. At her apartment door. Waiting for her. Her. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked before having him come in and closing the door behind him.

  “Yes, if you have a bit of whiskey, I could use some,” he replied, following her to the living room.

  “Is wine an option?” she asked, unsure. She did not usually drink whiskey, but a good wine did relieve her stress when it became unmanageable.

  Michael smiled.

  “An excellent option. Thank you.”

  She nodded and went into the kitchen.

  The lawyer’s eyes scanned the apartment. It was cozy. The floor was parquet. Central heating. He knew the area. It was safe, and some places around there were very expensive. It was not far from his home in Lincoln Park.

  He was pleased to find a cabinet full of tiny, colorful elephants. he assumed it was a collection since all four shelves were full. There was a photograph of what he assumed was her parents when they were young, with two little girls. He was about to stand up to take a closer look, but Veronica came back suddenly.

  “Here you go, please pour yourself a glass,” she said as she returned with a wineglass and handed it to him. He leaned back on the sofa and took a sip of wine. “Your expression is a bit serious. Any news about your nephews?”

  He shook his head.

  Veronica settled in next to him but kept her distance.

  “The twins are in good shape and recovering. My niece, Galia, is their self-appointed nurse; she loves her brothers. And now that I’m with you tonight, the truth is nothing could be better,” he answered, looking into her eyes. He sipped the wine again and then stretched his arm to put the glass on the sofa table. When he noticed that Veronica had left a considerable amount of space between them, he flashed her a smile. “I don’t bite, you know?” he joked.

  She returned the gesture, but inside, she was a ball of nerves. She felt as if she were trying to imitate a peacock when she was really a common wild swan. How long would she be able to keep up that self-sufficient attitude? She knew from Michael’s gaze that he wanted her. She had to gather her courage. The show had started.

  “I know,” she replied. “If we wait much longer, we’ll lose our reservation. Or is it the type of restaurant that keeps them open for hours after the time agreed with the customer?”

  He was staring at her but said nothing. He slowly got closer. She did not move. She could not, after all. She was cornered, and even if she could, neither her legs nor her body dared to disengage from the attraction that bound her to the sofa, waiting for Michael’s next move.

  He took the wineglass from her hand and put it aside. He could smell Veronica’s floral perfume. Her blue eyes shone in surprise when the distance between them shrank suddenly to a few inches. Michael did not fail to notice the flash of desire in her feminine gaze. He had a moment of déjà vu. He felt as if he’d already experienced that exact circumstance. At some other time in his life.

  “I don’t’ think the owners of the place will mind, Veronica. However, do you know who will mind if I don’t kiss you right now?” he murmured practically hovering over her full lips.

  “Michael...” she whispered, surrounded by the manly scent of a woody perfume, combined with a dash of aftershave. The warmth of his voice enveloped her.

  “Exactly,” he said throatily, caressing her soft cheek with his hand. “And you, beautiful Veronica, would you also mind?”

  Whatever she said at that moment would change the bond they shared forever. It was the moment to listen to Delaney. Her friend had suggested to let life get revenge for her in time, and insisted that whatever Piper had or hadn’t done was none of her business, much less the trial and its ups and downs. She’d asked Rachel to leave the lawyer alone unless she was really attracted to him for reasons that had nothing to do with revenge. Rachel pushed Delaney’s words out of her mind. She would never understand what a person could feel when everything had been torn from them.

  Michael deserved to be put in his place. At that moment, she had to continue with her plans. Earn his trust, then weaken his defenses, one by one. If she enjoyed herself while she did it, all the better, but she did not plan to lose sight of her goal. She was a pragmatic woman and planned to remain one.

  At that moment, with Michael looking at her with those burning eyes, she could only think of how her lips tingled with the desire to be kissed. Her breasts felt a bit heavier and her nipples were hard against the fabric of the strapless bra. Her awareness of a slightly moist patch nestled between her legs was more vivid, as was her rushing heartbeat. She felt as if she had gone back in time, and that nineteen-year-old girl would finally get what she wanted when a younger Michael had kissed her.

  “I’d mind... a lot,” she said, trapped by those intense green eyes.

  Michael’s response was to take her breath away with his skillful mouth. probing her lips with his tongue, and then nibbling them before, with Rachel’s surprised expression, penetrating that cavity that kept the secrets of her kisses. The taste of her desires and the temptation of her tongue.

  She’d experienced what it felt like to have sky-high alcohol levels, but Rachel could not remember having felt the world around her vanished. The noise from the avenue below had disappeared, and she could only hear the sound of their heavy breathing fuse into a relentless kiss.

  He slid his hand gently, unwrapping the red scarf. She helped him with it, and they applied the same routine, still kissing, to the rest of her winter clothes. The coat flew off, and then the cardigan, leaving her only in her dress. Frantic and lustful, Rachel ran her fingers through Michael’s soft hair, holding tight and pulsing at the rhythm of his burning lips. She felt his warm hand run over her shoulders and slide down her back through the opening of her dress.

  “God!” he exclaimed, incredulous. “Did you plan to expose yourself this way in a restaurant with me?”

  She had to laugh.

  “I was counting on getting you to leave the restaurant after the first course.” He pulled away. He stared at her swollen feminine lips. “Or not?” she asked, coquettishly.

  “So much so, Veronica,” he replied as he watched the girl’s elegant fingers unbutton his shirt. “it’s been days and I’ve hated my damn workload for not letting me see you sooner. I want you madly.”

  “Mmm... I should make sure you know it’s mutual,” she confessed before she opened his expensive shirt and let her hands enjoy Michael’s sculpted body. She touched it admiringly. He was a beautiful, virile man.

  Michael felt trapped by the touch of those soft hands, and his manhood vibrated against the fabric of his trousers. He could not waste more time on foreplay, even if he wanted to. He did not want to come across as a brute, but Veronica was irresistible. Not without regret, he broke off the heated embrace, took her by the hand, and gasped when he finally saw her garter.

  “The bedroom?” he asked, lifting her up. That gesture made Rachel let out a peal of laughter. “I don’t see anything funny.”

/>   She pointed towards the hallway, then to the right. The second door, next to the study.

  “You’re acting like a caveman.”

  Michael pushed the white door open with his shoulder.

  “I feel very primitive with you right now, Veronica,” he said huskily, before he settled with her on the bed, placing her under his body. The shirt had stayed in the living room. His torso was naked, and the friction of the black dress against his burning skin was an interesting experience. “Now, let’s get rid of this annoying garment,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her collar bone. She unconsciously arched her back. “Ah, a sensitive spot.”

  “Very,” she replied, running her fingernails along with the muscles of his arms, up to his shoulders. He was so strong. “I like your body.”

  “And I like a woman who’s so direct with her opinions,” he answered, pulling down the zipper on the left side of her dress. Rachel moved her hips, helping him until he stripped her down to her underwear. He whistled in appreciation while he quickly took off his shoes. He effortlessly pulled Rachel’s off her feet and tossed them on the carpet.

  “Kiss me,” she asked in a tangle of white silk sheets.

  Michael got lost in the taste of that woman that made his desire fly as high as Icarus towards the sun. He felt capable of reaching the highest heavens with the drive generated by the possibility of imminent pleasure. Rachel’s hands flew towards his belt and tossed it aside in a flurry of laughter and kisses. Michael’s trousers soon joined them.

  Equally dressed, they examined each other with the bright eyes of desire, their breathing labored and their lips slightly were swollen. It was, however, both of their lower regions, primitive and lustful, that was desperate. Michael leaned in to kiss her, settling between her legs, as he gently separated them with his hands. Reflexively, Rachel’s legs wrapped around his manly waist. He moved against the softness he felt, that essential region in which he ached to lose himself soon, though it was still covered in silk fabric.

  “You are so sexy, Veronica...”

  And every time he said that name, Rachel heard a reminder that she could not let desire overwhelm her senses. There was a reason she was seducing him and letting herself be seduced. She could not lose sight of that, though she could still enjoy the moment.

  “So are you,” she whispered, lost in the hand that, at that very moment, tore off her panties and then sent her garter flying. The large, warm hand wrapped around her hips and then rose to take off her bra. “Oh...” she gasped when he grabbed her left nipple. He pinched it delicately before his mouth took over for his fingers.

  “Delicious... better than dessert.” He wrapped his tongue around the areola and then sucked the nipple forcefully. Rachel’s hips shuddered, her head fell back, and her nails dug into Michael’s muscular back. “Mmmm... tasting you is heavenly, Veronica,” he muttered, applying the same delicious caress to the other nipple while his hand massaged the breast that his lips had just left pert and glistening. His pelvis had not stopped rubbing against Rachel’s most sensitive area. He was so aroused that it was a painful pleasure.

  “I want...”

  “I know, darling, but we will go slowly.”

  “I don’t think so,” she retorted, pressing her fingers into Michael’s flesh.

  He responded with a deep laugh. Rachel let out a shuddering moan when she felt Michael’s finger slide between her feminine folds. She was swollen and wet with desire. He adored that softness enough to lubricate her more deeply. When he was sure she was ready, he took her mouth in his and then penetrated her soft flesh with a finger.

  Rachel’s scream of pleasure made Michael’s member throb desperately inside his dark blue boxers. He controlled his desire to slide inside Veronica and continued caressing her with his fingers. His index and middle fingers came and went inside the moist canal, while his thumb played with her clitoris. His mouth performed its magic on hers, but at times moved to her sensual breasts, exploring them with fervent lust. The guttural sounds she made, approving his caresses, drove him mad.

  “Those boxers. Take them off. Now,” she urged, but that was the moment he chose to accelerate the movement of his fingers to send her off on a journey towards liberation.

  A blinding pleasure invaded each cell of Rachel’s curvy body. The orgasm swept away from her senses and slid like burning lava over her skin. Her scream moved Michael to the core, and before she was able to come back from that blinding sensation, he tore off his boxers, leaned to one side of the bed to take a condom out of the pocket of his trousers, and came back to her.

  “Sneaky,” whispered Rachel, seeing Michael’s mischievous smile.

  “I needed to see you come...” he gasped, “now get ready to fly again,” he told her before inserting himself between her thighs with a moan of pleasure.

  Their kisses were primitive and demanding. Both their hands territorially squeezed, caressed, and took possession of each part they touched. Michael’s thrusts alternated between hard and gentle. She followed the rhythm of his manly hips, desperately seeking to repeat the ecstasy of pleasure.

  Sweaty and excited, they felt themselves arrive at the point of no return when Rachel pressed her heels against Michael’s buttocks, forcing him deeper inside her. He pushed into her in a way no man had ever managed to. She started to experience the unrelenting abandon that was opening before her, trying to get rid of her inner voice, cynical and shrill, that mocked her belief that what she was sharing with Michael at this moment was still just a means to an end. One final thrust from Michael swept away from her last rational thought and pushed her towards the abyss she preferred: sexual satisfaction.

  “Veronica,” moaned Michael with a guttural sound when his essence rushed towards completion, leaving him exhausted and satisfied.

  The best orgasm of his life.

  Michael could not describe it any other way. His head was still spinning. His fingers caressed Veronica’s soft hair. He breathed in her aroma. His neck still buried in that delicious neck, he slowly let the air out of his lungs. She returned the caress.

  Carefully, Michael rolled away.

  Rachel was about to complain, but she stopped herself in time. She could not ask or demand anything beyond pleasure. The emptiness that ached when she felt him outside her body was ridiculous. If she was honest with herself, she could not hide the truth. It was the best sex she’d had in... well, ever. That clearly set off alarm bells. She had to recover her breath. His rolling away was a good thing. Who wanted cuddles and sentimentalism? Not her, of course. Not from Michael, in any case.

  “The sink?” he asked, pulling her out of her contradictory thoughts.

  Rachel pointed a finger towards the corner door of her room. Before he walked away, Michael leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I’ll be right back, darling.”

  She fixed her gaze on the ceiling.

  She felt as if a hurricane had swept over her body. He hadn’t stopped kissing every nook and cranny of her skin. He was generous and preferred to give her pleasure before taking it himself. She had not expected that from Michael. In fact, she was prepared to go to bed with a man who sought his own pleasure first and then, if possible, his lover’s.

  She heard running water. A few minutes later, Michael, comfortable in his nudity, came back to her side. Before she could say anything, he kissed her. A long, passionate kiss.

  “Everything all right?” he asked before lying down and pulling Veronica towards him. She was a very receptive, sensitive woman. Having her in his arms had been like letting himself be wrapped in the most exquisite velvet.

  “More than all right, you know,” she replied, stroking his cheek. “It was great.”

  “That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he muttered, watching her closely. “Can I confess something, Veronica?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I don’t know why, but I feel like I know you...”

  “Many people create a certain connection t
hrough sex,” she said cautiously. She tried to make sure her body did not tense up. “Don’t you think so?”

  “Years ago, I met a girl with reddish hair like yours,” he continued, in a voice that revealed a certain tinge of nostalgia. “Perhaps I imagined it because of the events of that night were somewhat confusing. She was a breath of fresh, innocent air back then,” he said, stroking her shoulder gently. She tried not to tremble at his touch. “In a way, I see something of her in you. I don’t mean to offend, or much less compare you.” Rachel shook her head as if he’d said something silly. “I’m probably just rambling,” he joked. “You’re right to stare at me with that confused look on your face...”

  Rachel furrowed her brow. Hear heart was racing. Though she was convinced that there was no way he could know it was her...

  “So her memory is so vivid?” she interrogated him, tracing Michael’s eyebrows with her left index finger.

  Michel caressed her cheek.

  “Sometimes I think that if I ran into her again, I would probably recognize her.”

  “She made that much of an impression on you?”

  With one swift movement, he placed her effortlessly under his body, one hand on each side of her hips. Unlike what Rachel had felt in other sexual experiences, this time she felt very comfortable being naked in front of Michael.

  “She appeared at a time when my life was a disaster. Meeting her was like a breath of fresh air,” He leaned down and nuzzled Rachel’s nose with his. “The exact same thing happened to you.”

  “Why was it a disastrous time?” she wanted to know. It was what the Rachel of almost a decade ago would have wanted to know about the stranger that had turned her emotional world upside-down for a few hours, only to fall flat on her face at dawn. Like a bad joke.

  Michael clenched his jaw. He wasn’t the kind of man who shared personal details with his lovers, but something in this woman encouraged him to do so. To want to trust. His professional side, the lawyer in his head, would have probably punched him for being an idiot and not analyzing every angle better. But he was tired of rationalizing everything.