Bang

by E. K. Blair

  I quickly collect myself, going into my well-crafted act, saying, “Richard. I could say the same about you. What brings you to River North, or, better yet, a grocery store of all places?” turning the question around on him.

  “My attorney’s office is here. Had a meeting I just got out of and needed to pick up some formula for the baby.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in Dubai with Bennett?”

  “Had to come back early,” he snips before going back to his original question, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been cooped up for far too many days and needed a drive, so I thought I’d spend a few hours roaming some of the galleries,” I tell him, figuring it was a good enough lie considering River North is known for its trendy array of art galleries.

  “And yet here you are, buying groceries,” he snarks. “Finally figuring out what it means to be a housewife?”

  God, he’s such a womanizing dick.

  “As if any of my doings are your business, but since you seem so concerned with my takings on of wifely duties, yes, I thought I’d try my hand at cooking since I’m growing tired of Clara’s freezer meals.”

  “Hmph,” he remarks, eyeing me suspiciously.

  His doubting look pisses me off, and when I move to walk around him and open up the car door, I ask, “Is there anything else you’d like to question me about?”

  “Jacqueline said she’s stopped by your building a couple times since Bennett’s been gone. Said you haven’t been around much.”

  “Tell Jacqueline that I have a life and things to do, and if she’d like to schedule time together, then she best call or text me instead of making random drop-ins only to find that I have other obligations that call me away from home,” I snap, trying to cover for my lack of presence on my side of town.

  He nods with a look of spite before commenting, “I’ll be sure to relay your friendly message.”

  “You do that, Richard.”

  Getting into the car and closing the door, my heart pounds with anxiety, wondering what the fuck Richard is really doing on this side of town, because I already know that we share the same attorney, and he isn’t located in River North.

  I drive back towards Declan’s loft, all the while looking in my rearview mirror to make sure Richard hasn’t followed me. When I’m sure that no one is watching, I turn into the parking garage and park in one of Declan’s assigned spots. Turning the car off, I lean my head back, pissed at myself for being so careless. But that quickly morphs into being pissed that I have to be so guarded. That I’ve created such elaborate lies that they can’t simply be washed away. I’m in way too deep for any possibility of that.

  I think about Pike and everything he’s sacrificed for me. Everything he’s given up for the past few years while I work this con. And as I sit here and start to doubt what we’re doing, the guilt of what that would do to Pike surfaces. I can’t pull out of this that easily anyway. I’m married. If I walked away—disappeared—Bennett would come looking for me. He loves me too much and it would devastate him to lose me. But it’s not Bennett that I care about—it’s Declan. And how do I find my way out of this without revealing all of my wicked deceit to him. No one would be able to look past it or forgive me for what I have already done. The only option I see right now is to keep doing what I’m doing and cherish every last second I have with him before Pike and I flee.

  I GIVE THE sauce a quick stir after Declan calls to let me know he’s on his way. So far, I’ve managed not to set the smoke alarm off in my quest to cook dinner. I walk over to the wine cage and select a nice white to go with dinner and place it in the fridge to chill.

  When Declan arrives a while later, I laugh at the shocked expression on his face as he enters the loft and sees me in the kitchen.

  “What are you up to?” he says inquisitively.

  “What does it look like?”

  “Well, you should be naked and on your knees, but instead, you’re cooking. Which I hope you’ve alerted the fire department to be on standby,” he chuckles as he rounds the bar, moving close to give me a hug.

  I swat his arm, saying, “I’ll have you know that I’ve yet to burn anything.”

  “Is that so?” he mocks as he grabs my wrist and yanks me with force against his chest, giving me a sexy smirk.

  “Yes. That’s so.”

  His mouth instantly finds my neck, licking its way up to my ear where he gently nibbles on the lobe, causing a rush of goosebumps along my arms. I shiver in his hold, and he growls in pride at my body’s response to him. I sling my arms around his broad shoulders when he reaches behind my thighs and lifts me up, setting me on top of the counter. With my legs wrapped around him, I feel his cock harden against me as he stands between my legs.

  “Just know, next time I say I want you on your knees, you better be on your knees. I won’t punish you for your disobedience though, because I love that you cooked for me,” he says after kissing me thoroughly.

  “Do you?”

  He begins to laugh against my lips before saying, “Clearly my cock approves and is eager to thank you,” which causes me to burst out laughing right along with him.

  “You’re such a dork.”

  “A dork, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No one has called me that since the fifth grade,” he teases, and I giggle when I respond, “Well, maybe not to your face.”

  He buries his head in my neck, biting me and growling at my snarky remark, but it only turns me on. With my ankles crossed behind him, I urge his hips into me, needing the friction against my heat.

  “Needy,” he remarks.

  “You have no idea.”

  He leans over, flipping off all the switches on the stove, and then hikes up the skirt of my dress. Leaning down between my legs, I hear him inhale deeply through his nose, scenting me.

  “Fuck, I love the way you smell when your body readies itself for me,” he says before violently ripping my panties right off of me, the lacy fabric shredded as they hang from my one thigh.

  My hands take fistfuls of Declan’s hair as he kneels before me, spreading my legs wider. I look down at him as he takes in the sight of me.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says as he flicks his eyes up to mine. He then takes his fingers and sinks them between the lips of my already wet pussy, adding, “This . . .”

  “Mmmm.”

  “This is so fucking beautiful,” he says before plunging a finger inside of me.

  My hands tighten around the locks of his hair as I release a heady moan. He keeps his eyes on mine while he slowly fucks me with his finger, peering up at me in raging heat.

  “You like having me inside of you?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “This is mine.”

  I moan in approval when he takes his thumb and starts pressing smooth circles over my swollen clit. He then crooks his finger to reach the most sensitive spot inside of me, causing my body to lose control as he sparks the live wire that’s burning in me. But it’s when his hot mouth covers me that I come undone, allowing him to possess me however he chooses.

  With the flat pad of his tongue, he massages my clit in tender strokes before baring his teeth and with their razor edge, clamps down and bites me.

  “Shit,” I hiss as my body jerks away in pain, but he grabs my hips and keeps me in his mouth with a forceful grip. He quickly replaces his teeth with his tongue again, soothing the infliction, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain.

  The gentleness that follows the torture makes me crave more of the loving abuse, and he knows it when he pulls away, urging, “Tell me you want it.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “You know what I want.”

  “Say it,” he commands.

  “Bite me.”

  “Ask me,” he says. “Beg for it.”

  Pushing my hips towards his face, I nearly whimper in the desire that flushes through my veins, “P
lease, Declan. Bite me, and then take the pain away. I wanna feel it.”

  With a low groan, he’s pleased with my request, approving, “Good girl,” before unzipping his pants to free his massive erection, solid and hard.

  “Your girl,” I breathe as he takes me in his mouth again.

  I can’t keep my eyes off of him, watching him beat off while he blissfully fucks me with his tongue.

  BENNETT HAS BEEN home for a couple of weeks now, making it difficult for me to see Declan. I have to come up with random excuses to get away and go to him. So I lie, telling him that Chicago Magazine wants another piece from me and that I’ve been meeting my editor for coffee and office meetings to discuss article topics, or that I’m spending the day at the spa, or going shopping. Whatever I can come up with, I tell him. Declan and I have been spending most of our time on his yacht. When I’m with him, nothing else exists—I’m happy and content. I know I’ve made a huge mistake and the more time I spend with him leaving my heart unguarded, the deeper I’m falling in love. But I can’t help myself. He’s intense, overwhelming, addictive, and utterly all-consuming. When I’m not with him, I want to be. These days, I can barely go an hour without wanting to talk to him. That’s how much I crave him.

  I’ve been putting off seeing Pike for these very reasons. I’m scared to tell him the truth about what’s going on between Declan and me, so for the first time, I’m going to have to lie to him. It’s been almost a month since I last saw him, so while Bennett is at work, and Declan is in meetings all day to discuss acquiring a piece of land in London for new construction, I take a risk and drive out to Justice to touch base with Pike. I normally wait until Bennett is out of town, but under the circumstances, I feel like I need to check in.

  The place smells of his clove cigarettes, a scent that is so familiar to me, one that I find comfort in. But the smell that brings me the most comfort now is one of sweet, earthy rain—the smell of lotus blooms.

  “Four weeks, Elizabeth,” Pike’s monotone voice says as he sits on the couch. His irritation doesn’t come as a surprise as I walk over and sit down next to him.

  “I’m sorry. Bennett’s been home. He’s not traveling as much right now,” I try explaining, but he doesn’t seem to be in any mood to hear my excuses.

  “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Pike.”

  “Tell me you’re making progress with that guy.”

  “His name’s Declan, and I’m trying. It’s just taking a little longer than I expected,” I tell him, lying because the only reason it’s taking longer is because I want more time with him.

  He looks over at me, fed up, asking, “What the hell does that mean? Last I saw you, you said he was in deep and didn’t seem to have much doubt about this taking up a whole lot of time.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I think I was just wound up with excitement, but I don’t feel like he’s ready yet.”

  “How did he react to the last bruises I gave you?”

  “He was pissed. I wound up staying with him the whole time Bennett was away.”

  He nods, stubbing out his cigarette. “So what do you think it’s gonna take?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “How long is Bennett gone this time?” he asks.

  “He’s not. He’s still here in town. It’s just been a while since I saw you.”

  “So you needed me to take care of you,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, assuming I came for sex. But I don’t need that from him anymore. And as screwed up as it sounds, considering I’m married, the thought of having sex with Pike would make me feel like I was being unfaithful to Declan. It’s a fucked up idea, but the feeling is there regardless.

  “No. I just wanted to check in. I didn’t want you worrying,” I tell him and watch as his eyes narrow.

  “What the fuck is going on? What aren’t you telling me?” he snaps.

  “Nothing.”

  “For nearly sixteen years you’ve always needed me for sex, and now, all of a sudden, you don’t.”

  “Nobody said that I don’t still need you, Pike.”

  “You didn’t need me the last time you were here, and now today,” he says suspiciously as he pulls his arm away from me. I don’t speak as he stands up and takes a few steps across the room before turning back to face me. “You say you think Declan needs more time, that he’s not ready. But now you’ve got me wondering if it’s you that’s not ready.”

  I stand up, defending instantly, “You don’t think I’m ready to see Bennett dead? To see that asshole buried six feet under where he belongs?”

  “I’m not talking about Bennett. I don’t doubt that you want those things. I’m talking about Declan.”

  I try covering my nervousness with irritation when I cross my arms and bite my words, “Stop goading me and just say whatever it is you want to say.”

  He takes a moment, looking at me intently as if he’s trying to read me, and then questions in a condescending tone, “You don’t love the guy, do you?”

  “What?! No!” I blurt out, but I know he doesn’t buy it when he cocks his head.

  “Then tell me why you don’t need me.”

  “Pike. Don’t.”

  “You’re just fooling yourself, you know?” he says. “Don’t forget, you’re nothing but a lie to him.”

  But I don’t need Pike to tell me what I already know.

  “Stop.”

  But he doesn’t. He just keeps talking, saying, “So when he says that he loves you, he doesn’t really mean it. He’s only in love with this fictional character you’ve created, Nina.”

  “Pike, I’m serious,” I yell, losing my temper. “Cut the shit!”

  “You and I both know that if he truly knew you, he wouldn’t be saying those words.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “No! Fuck you!” he shouts in hate. “We had a fucking plan here. And here you are, falling for the goddamn con!”

  His words stab me, throwing the truth I want to deny in my face. Wishing that his words were nothing but lies, but they’re not, and it pisses me off, so I shout back at him, “I’m not like you! I have cracks, and I can’t always shut off my feelings like you do, settling for the life you were given. Don’t forget I was given this life too!”

  He flinches when I sling my words at him, and I’m taken aback by the softer tone of his voice when he responds, “So that’s what you really think? That I don’t feel? That I don’t mourn the loss of the life I should’ve had? That I don’t wonder about or miss the parents I never knew?” He takes a slow step towards me, his jaw flexing, hardening his voice as he continues, “You had a dad that you knew. You had it all. I never had a goddamn thing. But that’s why people like you and me fight, because it gives us something to live for when we have nothing left. I thought we shared that.”

  The look on his face and the pain in his voice cut me deeply. I love Pike. I always have, and to see him hurt, because of me, isn’t an easy thing to witness.

  I move closer to him, telling him, “We do share that.”

  He cups my cheeks in his hands, assuring me, “We can do this. You and I can do this together. Don’t let go of that because some guy makes you feel something. The real question you need to be asking yourself is: what does Elizabeth make him feel?”

  He’s right. Declan says he loves me, but what he loves isn’t real. Not completely anyway. I allow him to see the real emotions in me, but he thinks I’m Nina, the girl from Kansas. If he knew Elizabeth, there’s no way he would feel the same way about me. There’s no denying how I feel about him, but Pike is right, I don’t truly have the confirmation of how he feels about me—the real me.

  I can’t speak as I stand here and soak in his words, but he soon breaks the silence, pleading softly, “Don’t leave me alone in this.”

  I wrap my arms around his waist, wanting to comfort him. Pike rarely exposes himself like this to me, so when he does, it’s hard for me to deal with. Pike is my rock. My backbone w
hen I feel weak. We stand here and hold each other when I tell him, “I’ll never leave you, Pike.”

  “When I tell you that I love you, I mean it. I love you—Elizabeth,” he says. “That’s something you will never have to question.”

  And I believe him, but Pike has always loved me in a way I don’t share. His love has always bordered on an intimate level, whereas I love him like a brother. But when you grow up like we have, in a world where there is no black and white, it’s hard to clearly distinguish the grey, and right and wrong no longer exist. I’ve never questioned him about his feelings towards me, he makes it clear, and I’ve never corrected his assumption of my feelings. But the feelings I know he wants from me aren’t for him; they’re for a man who believes I’m real, only I’m not. I’m nothing more than his poison paradise.

  THE MOMENT I see Declan, all of Pike’s words from earlier disappear. I watch Declan as he fixes my cup of tea in the galley of his boat, and after he adds a tiny splash of milk, he turns to hand me the mug.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he says as he leads me down into his stateroom. I crawl up onto his bed, folding my legs in front of me and cradling the hot mug, and when he sprawls out, resting his back against the headboard, he reaches out, saying, “Give me your hand.”

  I offer him one of my hands and he turns it over, dragging a finger over my wrist. “These,” he whispers, referring to the faint white lines that mar the inside of my wrist. They’re barely even visible anymore, so I’m a little surprised that he’s noticed them. Not even Bennett has.

  Declan brings my wrist to his lips and presses them against the tiny reminders of being tied up and locked away as a child. The touch is soft, a sweetness that melts me. “Tell me how you got these?” he asks, and I want to tell him. For some reason, I want him to know the ugliness in me. Instead, I avoid because I don’t want to lie to him if I don’t have to.

  I slowly shake my head, letting him know that I don’t want to tell him, so instead he asks, “Did it hurt to get them?”