Instead, he forced himself to get up and walk in the opposite direction as Lena’s voice faded on, “Maybe in July…”
He spent the rest of the night in his study. Doing work, the one damn thing that made sense right now, until he heard the sound of footsteps walking up the stairs. Once again, the house proved to be the worst eavesdropper.
“Let’s brush our teeth and go to bed,” Lena said as they walked from the second-floor landing to the next flight of stairs. “It’s been a long day and we get to do it all again tomorrow…”
He checked his watch. It was only nine. It was barely dark but she was already calling it a night? Guess he had his answer about the 100 fucks.
“You know you’re not really Max’s uncle, right?” Keane had said to Vihaan after volunteering to walk him out.
“Yeah, I heard about how you somehow managed to brainwash Lena it to thinking you were anything but trash,” Vihaan answered, smiling affably. “But I’m always going to be that child’s uncle, no matter who her father is. And if we’re taking bets…”
Vihaan had smirked and given the huge hockey player and up and down look, like he wasn’t all that. “Then I’m betting on Lena.”
He’d felt an icicle of fear as Vihaan sauntered away to his Fiat, while he walked back to his top of the line Range Rover.
He knew Lena had no chance against him. But he also knew that break up had hit him hard. Crying in the shower…sitting paralyzed for hours with the urge to text her…winning the fucking Stanley Cup but feeling nothing except “she should’ve been here. It doesn’t mean anything without her…reaching across to his phone to call her, even though he was driving fast on a raining night…”
The memory of that accident brought him back to the present, reminded him why he couldn’t afford to let his mind get all twisted up over her again. Vihaan had bet wrong, he told himself, as he zeroed out his email inbox for the day.
If Lena refused to play ball and give him another kid he could actually see grow up this time, then he’d crush her in court. She didn’t know who she was fucking with, he thought as he got into the elevator and thumb punched the brass four button.
He’d already had a cutthroat family lawyer on retainer, so now all he had to do was email him a list of demands, and tell him to get to working on an order to keep her from leaving the state—
His vengeful thoughts stopped cold when he opened his door and found Lena waiting on his bed.
Completely naked.
“I’ll take your deal,” she said. “But I have a few conditions.”
Chapter Fourteen
Keane studied her naked form. But only for a moment. And from the way his eyes drifted down then back up to her face without lingering, Lena couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw.
He closed the door behind him. The small click sounded as loud as a cannon boom in all that silence.
“You have some conditions,” Keane repeated.
Lena wasn’t sure. But it sounded like his statement was an invitation to continue speaking, so did, with a huge swallow. “Yes, conditions…”
And that was pretty much as far as she got on her first attempt to talk. You’re naked, her brain screamed. As exposed as you can get. And you’re trying to negotiate with the devil.
Coming in here and stripping naked had seemed like such a good idea a few minutes ago after she tucked Max in bed. She’d imagined throwing him off with her bold move, evening the playing field just a little.
But Keane acted like finding a woman naked in his room was NBD—totally no big deal. You know, Tuesday.
Maybe it was a big old case of whatevs with him. She’d gone out of her way not to track his comings and goings after what happened in his Beacon Hill condo. But even she couldn’t miss all the ads he’d started appearing in after signing up for the incredibly popular “What’s Stopping You?” campaign along with other disabled pro-athletes, like that blind football player, Beau Prescott. Keane was a celebrity and apparently a damn good businessman now.
And she was a therapist, way, way out of her league. A dolphin to his shark.
Could she do this? Could she really pretend to be as hard of a negotiator as him? Especially when every instinct she had was screaming at her to put her robe back on and run and hide in her room.
But no, she couldn’t run. Not this time. She had to do this. For Max and for the Institute, who had done nothing wrong, except hire her one summer eleven years ago to be their intern.
Yes, the Institute…good a place to start as any. She grabbed on to that and used her respect and love for the non-profit to make her voice strong. “If we do this, you can’t threaten the institute. In fact, I want you to sign a 30-year endowment agreement, stating that they’ll receive funding from DGK no matter what. They’re doing amazing work and it’s not fair that you’ve somehow accumulated enough power over them to shut them down.”
If her words aroused any guilt in him whatsoever, it didn’t show. His eyes barely flickered before he said, “Fifteen years.”
“Twenty. I want any child that might come out of this agreement to be of college-age, so that you can’t manipulate me or them.”
He shrugged. “Okay, twenty.”
“Also, I don’t want any gender differentials in the custody agreement. No matter what the gender of the next kid, if it’s stipulated in the contract, she has to have access to it, too.”
“But Keane Academy is a boys’ only?”
Lena tilted her head. “I’m aware of that, but you seem really driven. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure this out, or maybe even better yet, leave the hockey camp requirement out altogether.”
“Fuck that,” he answered. “I got five years. We’ll add a girl’s program if it comes to that. That will get us through until the boys start checking.”
“And if she decides to stay even after she gets knocked into a wall? Or try out for AAA?”
Keane shook his head as if the idea of a girl as fierce as that belonged in the same realm of fantasy as unicorns. “I guess I’ll make the elite teams co-ed, too if she wants to try out.”
“Co-ed…” She thought about that and nodded. “Okay, I can live with that. And one more thing, but it’s very important. I have a practice to return to in Pasadena after my training is done. The core custody agreement has to state explicitly that I’ll be able to return to my job and bring Max with me. The baby, too, if we get pregnant.”
His jaw ticked. “So, you’re saying after you have my baby, I’m just your sperm donor. You don’t want me in its life?”
“Keane, you’re blackmailing me,” she reminded him with a calmer tone than she felt. “I don’t want anything to do with you at all. But I don’t regret Max. He’s an amazing and resilient human being, and I think if I actually get pregnant this summer, the next kid could be great, too. Provided we work out the terms of custody beforehand.”
“You can stay here,” Keane said, in a final tone, like everything was decided because he said so. “I’ve got plenty of money.”
“I know you do, and I still don’t want any of it,” she answered, looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t ever want to be financially dependent on anyone again.”
“Is that why you and that ass tool who followed you to California broke up?” he asked. “Because you wanted to be independent?”
Lena fought hard with herself not to respond defensively. She’d learned the hard way that night in Beacon Hill. Keane always played to win and if she didn’t want to get smoked, she couldn’t engage.
“No,” she answered simply, before switching right back to her most important requirement. “I have patients and a life back in Pasadena. If I can’t go back to practice, I can’t agree to do this. That has to be stipulated in the contract.”
Keane looked at her for a long, hard time. But then he said, “Okay.”
“Okay?” she asked, barely believing he’d actually caved on the main sticking point.
“Yeah, okay. My lawyers will have so
mething for you to sign by the end of the week.”
He didn’t look happy. At all. But her heart soared with triumph. That is until his expression suddenly switched from mildly annoyed to very intent.
That was when she realized…
Keane had agreed. To all three of her conditions. Including the one about keeping the kids with her in California for most of the year.
She had won, yes. But that also meant she would now have to pay up.
100 fucks...
Chapter Fifteen
Silence crashed like California’s loud ocean waves all around them, making Lena vividly recall how it had felt in the moments after she agreed to let him be her first in Daytona.
Like she, her brain was starved of breath, while her heart was beating hard.
He walked forward, stopping just a few inches in front of the bed.
Then he slowly stripped. Tugging off the long-sleeved black athletic top and sweatpants, he’d put on after getting off the ice. Then his underwear, easily pulling them over his black metal prosthesis. Last but not least, he leaned sideways and pressed some kind of unseen trigger to detach his leg.
The small hiss of compressed air it let out when he pulled it off startled Lena. Made her realize she was staring. Again.
Part of her wanted to mumble, “Sorry.” But an even bigger part of her couldn’t work her dry throat muscles to speak.
Showing how amazing his balance must have become over the years since his accident, he easily stood directly in front of her on one leg.
“Take me out,” he instructed his voice colder than the ice he’d been skating on earlier.
Okay, this was happening. This was really happening. After a few stabilizing breaths, she scooted her body forward until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Only to hesitate again when she realized she didn’t quite know what to do. Still.
Rohan had never wanted them to engage in oral sex, and the few times she’d attempted to give Keane a blow job, he’d acted like it would be too hard for him to maintain his control if he let her put his mouth on him.
But he didn’t look on edge now. Not at all. His eyes glittered with cold expectancy as he waited for her to follow his command.
Holding her breath for real this time, she reached forward and pulled him out. He was already erect, and his length swelled even harder inside her hand. His cock was still as beautiful as his unfairly handsome face. Long, obscenely thick, and ridged with veins, like it worked out seven days a week, too.
“Make me ready for you,” he said above her head.
“You’re already ready,” Lena pointed out, keeping her hand limp around his hard dick, even as her eyes followed the pearl of pre-cum leaking from the hole in its smooth crown.
“Make me more ready.” His voice was little more than a few bites of air.
So this was it. Time to earn her penance…and her freedom.
Lena lowered her head and licked off the pre-cum just like before in that little room in Daytona Beach.
That time he’d inhaled loudly. Like she’d hurt him with the pleasure of her mouth.
This time he remained silent above her. Like a cold mountain she could never hope to scale.
So she went further, wrapping her mouth around the head of his cock and tentatively began pushing her head back and forth.
“Jesus, that’s your version of a blow job. No wonder your marriage didn’t work out…”
He was being mean. And sex wasn’t the reason she and Rohan didn’t work out. But she couldn’t answer with her mouth full of Keane’s dick.
He grabbed her by the back of her braid. She thought he might unravel it, like he used to do. But instead he said, “Take me deeper. And do it faster. With more suck.”
Lena did as he instructed and soon found a rhythm, courtesy of Keane’s large hand on the back of her head, pulling her back and forth. They seemed to have come to an agreement about how to go about this, but when she let her eyes close, he growled, “No! Look at me.”
She did, and what she found chilled her. Green eyes glittering with malice, an expression set to hate, as he said, “I want you to watch me watching you suck me off.”
Then he pushed into her mouth even further, before abruptly pulling out and knocking his entire body into hers, so that she had no choice but to fall back on the bed.
Proving how strong he still was. He lifted up on one arm and dragged her along underneath him as he positioned them fully on the bed.
When he lined himself up at the front entrance of her sex she stiffened and braced herself for what came next. She wasn’t ready for penetration, but the night she’d brought the journal and apology note to his condo flashed through her mind. When he’d pushed into her without preamble and came without regard or care for anyone but himself.
This deal was about his pleasure, not hers. And she resigned herself to once, sometimes twice a day sex that wouldn’t involve her coming.
But it would be worth it for a baby, she promised her sinking heart.
“I was sweet before, but this time will be different,” he said, his voice low in her ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard; you’ll feel how much I hate you between your legs tomorrow.”
Again, she tried to close her eyes. And again, he said, “No, keep looking at me, Lena. I want you to see this. All of this. Watch me.”
She did watch him. But instead of pushing in, he crawled down her body. Palming her breasts as his mouth found her pussy.
She hated Desmond Keane. He was a bully without a trace of empathy who only thought about himself.
But she bucked when his tongue licked the entire length of her pussy. And she did it again when it glanced over her clit, wet and hot. She might have bucked a third time, as his tongue invaded her tiny tunnel, drilling and licking. But his hands kneaded her breasts into tight buds as he used his superior bodyweight to keep her right where she was.
She writhed uselessly as sharp shocks of pleasure shot through her core. But she didn’t close her eyes. Didn’t think she could, even if she had wanted to. The sight of him beyond the peaked buds of her breast, heading moving relentlessly between her thighs, even as he held her down…it was just too hot…too much.
Crying out, she came with an embarrassing gush. Letting him know with her Speedy Gonzales reaction, just how long it had been.
As she trembled with the shock of her climax, he dragged himself back up, covering her body with his. “100,” he snarled into her ear.
And then he pushed in, all the way to the hilt.
She drew in a sharp breath, choking on the sudden action and then sighing into the pleasurable sensation of being filled so deeply.
“You fucked me. And now I’m going to fuck you.”
Then he began to move. Precise, punishing strokes that pounded into her clit. He was right. She was going to feel this tomorrow.
“Keane,” she moaned, unable to help herself, even though she could feel the hate radiating off him as he pushed in and out.
It felt so good, she had an outrageous desire for him to call her a name. Bitch, whore—anything. She desperately needed a reason, any reason at all, not to enjoy the intense feel of him hate fucking her into the bed.
But he didn’t say anything, just silently studied her as she fell apart, her mews become louder and her moans shorter. Then just as she was about to come, he slung one of her legs on top of his shoulder and suddenly pitched them into a diagonal on one side. “Watch…” he bit out. “Watch your tight pussy take this dick. Say what you want about only being here cuz I blackmailed you, not wanting anything to do with me. You know the real truth. You know how hard you’re about to come all over this dick as it puts another baby in you. Watch.”
His voice was little more than a feral growl, from a depraved, dominating beast. It should have been enough. The humiliation and shame she felt as his words washed over her should have been enough to stop the incoming tide. But no, one glimpse of her pussy greedily taking his enormous dick, and the s
econd climax overtook her, blinding and dumb.
“99,” he said, letting go of her leg and rolling them back into missionary. This time he didn’t make or let her watch. In fact, he blanketed her body completely, blocking her view with the side of his neck, so that she could only feel the up and down of his hips. A few efficient pumps later, he let out a low grunt, and his entire body went rigid as he spilled inside her.
98…
More silence.
He rolled off her, and just like Daytona, they both stared at the ceiling. Breathing hard.
But they weren’t in Daytona. They were back in Boston. In Back Bay, no less, a neighborhood she wouldn’t have ever dreamed of living in back in high school. Especially not with Keane. Not in a thousand years.
Dazed she started to rise from the bed. She needed to get cleaned up and creep back down to her room on the third floor.
However, he grabbed her arm before she could get out the bed. “Where you going?”
“Back to my room.”
“Nuh-unh. Lay back down. I want you here just in case I decide I want some pussy in the middle of the night.”
Still in a daze, she did as he said, trying to figure out how to feel about what had just happened.
He’d been cruel, but he’d been right. That…that sex hadn’t been an act of martyrdom. It had been like the old days. But even better. Which had made this situation even worse.
This deal. It all depended on her keeping her eye on the baby goal and not getting her heart involved and. But she had 97 more times to go if they were counting by the orgasm.
“Why…” she asked, into their breathing hard silence. “Why did you make me come?”
Silence.
Then he turned over and flipped off the lamp she’d turned on, casting them both into the dark.
Keane: Her Ruthless Ex: 50 Loving States, Massachusetts Page 12