Cruel Truth

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Cruel Truth Page 16

by K. A. Linde


  I’d completely forgotten I was in this tiny, scandalous thing.

  “It was cold in Wisconsin,” I reminded him.

  “Ah, yes. I’m deeply regretting that we were in a snowy state if this was what I was missing.”

  His hands dipped under the material, trailing along the tops of my thighs, against my creamy skin, and up to the edge of my panties. My body shuddered at the touch. Sam’s long fingers, the coarse, callous texture, the assured way he intimately knew my body. No hesitation. No questions.

  “You didn’t wear clothes like this either,” I said as I began to unbutton his shirt.

  He smirked. “What good would I have for a suit when I was out, getting voter registrations and knocking on doors?”

  “Well, see…we’ve both changed,” I mused softly.

  He tilted my chin up to look into his eyes. “We have.”

  My hands stilled on his shirt. I swallowed, captivated by that gaze. “Some things haven’t.”

  He grinned as he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the wooden floor of my bedroom. “How much I want you for instance.”

  I bit my lip. “Like that first day on the job.”

  “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” he said, returning to teasing the bottom of my dress. “In the most ridiculous heels for a Wisconsin winter. I was smitten from then on.”

  “If I remember correctly, you had no objections to me wearing those heels in bed,” I said, flicking the button on his pants.

  “None,” he confirmed.

  Then he lifted the hem of my nightie, and when I didn’t stop him, he pulled it over my head where it landed next to his shirt. I was naked, save for my small cheeky panties. My nipples were erect, and he took in my breasts with hunger in his dark eyes.

  “There’s something else I’d like to see if I remember correctly,” he said as he backed me against my bed.

  “And what’s that?” I breathed.

  “If you taste as good as I remember.”

  My breath hitched.

  His hands rand down the back of my thighs and lifted my ass onto my entirely too-tall bed. But it didn’t seem to faze him since he was a giant of a man. He just set me down and then gently pressed my back into the comforter.

  He slid his fingers over my exposed skin on his way south. Taking his time to flit across my collarbone, over the map of light freckles on my chest, to the curves of my small breasts. I’d stopped being self-conscious of them a long time ago. But the way his hands cupped each of them, tweaking the nipples between his fingers and generally obsessing over them, it reminded me what it was like to be adored.

  I squirmed as he slid his tongue over the nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

  “Oh god,” I breathed. My eyes squeezed shut as my core tightened.

  He released the first and moved onto the second. He gently bit down on the sensitive skin, making me cry out in pleasure.

  “Fuck, I love the noises you make too,” he groaned.

  He flicked the nipple once with his tongue, and I whimpered.

  He continued lower, dragging his hands down my stomach and over my round hips. He hooked a finger under the hem of my panties and slipped them off, leaving me bare before him.

  “Sam,” I pleaded.

  He lifted my leg and began to kiss his way inward, starting at the knee. Each kiss supple, luxurious, and excruciating. If I’d thought we were just going to fuck and be done with this, I’d been wrong. This was more…so much more. He was remembering every inch of my body. I shivered again at the thought that he wanted to reacquaint himself with my taste.

  “I like when you say my name,” he told me, nipping at my inner thigh.

  I squeaked. He just moved closer and closer and closer. I thrust my wanton body toward his face. But he just chuckled, breathed against my most-sensitive skin, and then started on the other knee. I was about ready to combust, and he hadn’t even gotten to the main event.

  He didn’t speed up on the left leg either. He took his time as he dragged his lips back toward my core, which was already pulsing with need. And then he was there. An inch away from me. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dragged his finger through the folds of my pussy, slicking his way through the evidence of what he’d done to me.

  “Fuck,” he ground out. “Fuck, Lark.”

  “Yes, please.”

  His thumb moved to my clit and experimentally circled the small nub a few times. I almost jolted off the bed. Fuck, masturbating was nothing compared to this…to the feel of him. And he wasn’t even inside me yet. This was just the beginning, the cocktail hour to the main event. And I was the one who was going to be devoured.

  Then his tongue replaced his finger, and it felt so fucking good that I might have blacked out. As he licked at my clit, he spread my pussy open for him and slipped a finger inside of me. I clenched as my entire body contracted.

  I hadn’t realized how close I was already. I was on the brink of orgasm. And I didn’t want him to stop. Not at all. I wanted everything he was willing to give.

  And he gave it, sliding another finger into me. Then he curled his fingers inward as he began to move them in and out of me. Building me up to a crescendo. The music filled my ears as he licked and sucked on me, drawing out my pleasure.

  For a split second, I had enough cognizant thought to open my eyes and look down at him between my legs. And he glanced up at me in that exact moment. A confident, cocky-ass grin split his face. Like he could see on my dazed face and glazed eyes that I was in pure bliss…and it was all because of him.

  “Fuck,” I moaned.

  He continued on, never stopping as I built and built up to that point. And just when I was about to peak, I put my hands down into his dark hair and shoved him down against me. I cried out as everything hit at once. My climax ricocheted through my body. And it wasn’t until I stopped screaming that I finally released him.

  He was grinning at me like he’d just won a prize. I could see his dick straining against his slacks. But he seemed not to care as he continued to swirl a finger against my pussy while I came down from my orgasm.

  “So…sensitive,” I bit out. My body shook at his continued ministrations right after my orgasm.

  “My favorite time to touch you. You get so jittery that you look like you might explode again already.”

  I flushed despite what had just happened. That he remembered that about me. That he wanted to do it again.

  “And you do taste just as good as I remembered.”

  I blushed even deeper.

  “There’s something else I want to remember,” he said with a devilish grin.

  “What’s that?” I managed to get out.

  He shucked his pants onto the floor. His black boxer briefs followed, revealing his cock in all its glory. My mouth watered at the sight. Just like all the rest of him, he was…big. He wasn’t just huge. He fucking knew what to do with it. And fuck, I wanted more of that.

  “Fuck you. I want to remember how it feels to fuck you.”

  I nodded slowly and then pointed at a nightstand. “Second drawer.”

  He smirked and then grabbed a condom. I watched him deftly slide it into place. My body shuddered at the sight of him touching himself. Fuck, I wanted to touch him. I wanted him in my mouth. But I wanted him in my pussy more. A lot more. Like, right fucking now.

  He came back around to the bed and crawled on top of me, his dick jutting out between us. He moved to his elbows, positioning himself between my aching legs. Then he brushed a stray hair out of my face.

  “This what you want?” he asked, seemingly conscious for the first time that he’d just barged in here and not asked me what I wanted. “I don’t want to—”

  “Yes,” I told him. And then more calmly, looking into his eyes, I said, “Yes.”

  That was enough for both of us. Yes. He slid himself deep inside of me in one firm thrust, seating himself to the hilt. I breathed out in a half-gasp, half-whimper as he stretched me and str
etched me, almost to the point of breaking. And then stretched me just a little more. So effing big.

  I tightened my grip around his neck and held him in place, letting my body adjust to the feel of him. The man who took up doorways, filling something else entirely.

  He just leaned his head into the crook of my neck and kissed gently, soothingly, up and down. One hand slid under my back, pressing our bare chests together. He bit at the hollow of my neck, and my entire body clenched as goosebumps broke out over my neck.

  He grunted. “Fuck…you’re so tight.”

  But then everything settled into perfection. I urged him with my hips to begin to move. He slid out of me with a shudder and then forward.

  Once he started to move again, we were both goners. He sat up, gripped my hips in his hands, and thrust deep inside of me. Part of me thought I couldn’t take it. Part of me wanted him to go deeper still. And he did somehow. He kept going, driving into me with abandon. I gripped the comforter in my hands, arched my back, and cried out over and over again. I felt sure I was going to wake up everyone in the building. And I didn’t give two fucks.

  “Lark—”

  But he didn’t get to finish because he plunged into me one last time, and I saw stars again. I erupted on command just as he came hard and fast inside of me. He shuddered on top of me as we hit our orgasms together. Then, the waves died down, and we crashed onto the shore together, collapsing into nothingness.

  We were both panting as he slid out of me and removed the condom. He pulled me tight against his side and kissed my hair. All the fight had left our bodies. Just Jell-O left behind.

  “This…feels like a dream,” I told him as I nearly fell asleep against his chest.

  “And yet, it’s real.”

  “What happens in the morning?”

  He ran a hand up and down my back. “I make you breakfast before work.”

  “What happens at work?”

  “You don’t overthink this, and everything works out.”

  I laughed softly and then yawned. “That sounds just like me.”

  “Don’t worry about work. We can be discreet. Now that I have you, I’m not giving you up.”

  It sounded dangerous to me. But in the moment, I couldn’t muster up the energy to care.

  “Okay,” I said and then pulled him in even closer. “I’m not giving you up either. No matter what.”

  Part IV

  Who Could Ever Leave Me?

  24

  Lark

  Sam leaned forward over my desk. “I’m just saying…I want a real date.”

  I shook my head, but my smile was megawatt. Everyone in the office had to have seen the change in me over the last two weeks. It was like a light had switched. Who knew getting laid would make me a little less insane and intense.

  “We don’t have time to go out on a real date,” I told him. “The primary is a month away.”

  “Not quite,” he said. “And anyway, who said anything about going out?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  He stepped around my desk and came to stand before me. He offered me his hand, and against my better judgment, I let him lift me to my feet. We were mere inches apart. My stomach tightened with excitement and nerves. I didn’t know how the campaign would react to us dating, considering I was the deputy campaign manager and he was just legal counsel. But I also…didn’t want to find out.

  He slid his hand into mine. “This is what I’m thinking. After work tonight, you come over to my place. Dinner, drinks, some Brooklyn magic.”

  “Brooklyn? You want me to come to your place in Brooklyn?” I asked in surprise.

  Two weeks, and he had never once intimated that he wanted me in that space. I feared that it was because it was where he had lived with Claire before she went on tour. Or that…maybe he just didn’t want me to see where he lived. After hanging out with me and Court and Camden in our varying levels of fancy Upper East Side apartments, maybe he didn’t want to show off what it was like to really live in the city.

  “I mean…unless you don’t want to.”

  “No! I do. I would love that.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Really? You sounded skeptical.”

  “Well, I didn’t think you wanted me there.”

  “It’s been easier to stay at your place,” he admitted. “Even with English and her self-satisfied smiles. As if she were the matchmaker in all of this.”

  I laughed softly. “That’s English. And…it is easier at my place, but that doesn’t mean I only want to stay at mine.”

  “So, you’ll come then? Tonight?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, staring up at his lips…so damn close to mine. Wondering if I should just respond with a kiss when the door to my office burst open.

  Sam and I jumped away from each other faster than humanly possible. I brushed my hands down my shirt even though it didn’t have any wrinkles. Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could have whistled, and he wouldn’t have looked more conspicuous.

  “Lark!” Shawn cried, walking into the office. Luckily, Shawn was oblivious to most human interaction. “And…Sam, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Great. I just wanted to pass along a word from Leslie. She said that if we hit our voter registration goal for the Fourth of July, then she is going to give everyone the weekend off. Which means a full Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off.”

  “Wow,” I murmured. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had three days off in a row. Campaign life was weird.

  “Yeah. So, we’re going to need all boots on the ground. Talk to the field team and see what they need,” Shawn said enthusiastically. “Give them whatever they ask for. We have less than a week of full prep to get as many people out at as many events as possible to get those voter registrations in.”

  I shuffled through papers on my desk and found a map of the boroughs. “We already have teams in place for most of the main events,” I explained, handing him the paper. “The structure is already there. But we can get everyone on phones the rest of the week to bolster our numbers.”

  “Excellent,” Shawn said with a grin. “Also, I want this office empty on the Fourth. The mayor wants me and Christine to be with her when she’s out at events on the Fourth. The rest of you, she wants at each of these events. Boots on the ground. Making things happen.”

  I gawked. “You want us to be out there?”

  “Yep! And posting to social media about it!”

  I nodded in surprise. Leslie must be desperate about the Reyes primary challenge if she wanted nearly all of her head campaign staff to actually be out in the field.

  “Let everyone know,” Shawn said. “Hit our goal on the Fourth, and you all will get the weekend off. Light a fire under them.”

  “I will let them all know.”

  “I can always count on you, Lark.” He nodded his head at Sam. “Good to see you. Boots on the ground!”

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  And then Shawn sauntered out.

  I sighed. “Well, this is going to be interesting.”

  “To say the least.” He grinned. “But hey, we used to do this every single day in Madison. It’ll be like old times.”

  His smile was infectious.

  “Maybe. I’d better get back to work if we’re going to hit that goal.”

  “Sounds good, boss.” He winked at me as he walked backward toward the door. “Still on for after work?”

  I nodded at him. “You convinced me.”

  “Good. See you then.”

  As much as I wanted to follow Sam back to his place, I had to run home and get clothes for the next morning. There was zero chance that I’d be coming back. And anyway, Sam had said that he could get dinner ready.

  “Going somewhere?” English asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Date with Sam.”

  “A sleepover?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. I finally get to see his apartment.”

  “Nice.
That sounds like it’s getting more official.”

  “I think so. Plus, our boss just said we could take the weekend after the Fourth off. I’m thinking we’ll get a whole lot of…”

  “Wait, really?” she asked, suddenly excited.

  “Uh…yeah. Why?”

  “That’s when I have to be in the Hamptons for Court’s thing.” She waved her hand. “He’s doing that photo op. Some party. But you should come too! I can get all of us out there. Then I might not kill myself, being there with him alone.”

  “Oh, the Kensington Cottage?” I said with a grin. “I love that place. I’ll ask Sam if he wants to go.”

  “Thank you. Thank god,” she said.

  “Is it really that horrible, working with Court?”

  She shook her head and blew out a breath. “No, he’s fine. I just know that he’s purposely trying to make my job harder. He can be pleasant. He just isn’t.”

  “Sounds right.”

  “Well, have a good time,” English said. “I’m just waiting for Josh to call.”

  “Have good phone sex,” I called as I headed for the door.

  “I will!” she called back with a laugh.

  I grabbed an Uber into Brooklyn, and it pulled up in front of a tiny brick apartment building. It was a cute, if not quite trendy, part of the city. This definitely wasn’t Williamsburg. I slung my bag over my shoulder and pressed the button for him to buzz me up. There was no elevator. So, I climbed the stairs to the third floor, glad that I’d opted for Nikes.

  The door was unlocked, and I stepped into his apartment with wide eyes. All exposed brick and natural light with sparse furniture and a close, comfortable feel. A large stack of boxes took up the front left corner. An open door revealed the darkened bedroom. I was actually surprised how little there was in the space. It seemed the only real decorations, other than the blue curtains, were the little carvings on several surfaces. I knew from personal experience that Sam had a knack for woodworking.

  “Hey, you found it,” Sam said with a wary smile. “What do you think?”

  “It’s so adorable.” I closed the door behind me and hefted a bottle of red wine in front of me. “I brought wine.”

 

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