Private Investigation

by Aidèe Jaimes

  I can still feel her slick tongue as she licked me. Her warmth has, at least for now, dispelled the everlasting chill. The sound of her breath fills my ears, guarding me from the whispers in the night that won’t let me be. Finally able to relax, I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Carlos takes my phone from me before giving me the okay to go inside.

  “Hello?” I search for her in the kitchen, noting that the clock on the wall has begun its countdown. “Damned cock blocker,” I say to it.

  She comes running out of the bedroom wearing the white T-shirt I accidentally left here yesterday. My eyes travel up her naked legs, stopping only briefly at the hem of the shirt and wondering if there’s anything else under there, then they move up to her nipples that poke through the soft material. “You look…” I can barely speak through my dry mouth.

  Smiling, she approaches me, circling her arms around my neck and breathing into it. “I missed your smell.” She inhales again. “I found this under the pillow, and I knew that I needed it against my bare skin.”

  Her lips meet mine, and instantly, I’m beyond thinking. My arms wind around her waist, bringing her body as tight to mine as I can. I walk her backward, past the living room and into the bedroom. The bed hits the back of her legs and we fall onto it.

  My lips part only long enough to breathe her in. “I missed your smell too.”

  She giggles when my hand reaches under the shirt to find that she is, in fact, completely naked. “Not so fast, mister. I’ve got something for you first.”

  “If you wanted me to wait, you should have worn more clothes.”

  “You’ll get what you want, I promise.” She takes my hand and presses it against the wetness between her legs. Then she pulls it out, her perfect brow arching slightly before she licks the moisture off my fingers. “I want it as much as you do. So if I can wait, so can you.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “But what a way to go!” She cackles, leaving me on the bed and giving me a glimpse of her derriere as she walks away. There’s some fumbling in the kitchen, and she comes back in no time, but it’s still too long. “So after you told me that you and Len—” She pauses, catching herself. “That you and I talked about getting matching tattoos, I went to the grocery store and saw a little dispenser with these and thought, what’s stopping us?”

  “Oo-kay.” My brows pinch as I wonder what exactly she’s holding behind her back, but I don’t have to wonder long. “Are those stickers?”

  “No, silly! They’re temporary tattoos.”

  “Temporary, like us,” I quip.

  Her smile vanishes. She looks down and closes her hand. “Matt, I didn’t mean—”

  “No, I’m sorry. I was being funny. But it wasn’t really that funny, I guess. So what are they?”

  Her smile is back. “Turtles. I had to try several times before I got something that matched. This was it. You ready to be branded?”

  “Where exactly do you intend on placing this love brand?”

  “Anywhere I want.”

  “If I let you put that anywhere you want, does that mean I can do the same to you?” I look at her forehead, wondering if there’s enough space there.

  “Well, yes. But nothing on the face. I can already see you attempting to put that between my eyes.”

  I put my hands up in mock surrender. “All right, all right, no face. Though that would have been hilarious.”

  “Okay, I’ll play tattoo artist first. Hmm.” Tapping her forefinger against her chin and narrowing her eyes to take a good look at me, she gauges where it would be best to display the little green reptile with the tiny black sunglasses. She grins slyly when she finds just the right spot. “Okay, I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”

  I’m pushed down onto my back. When she straddles me, I try to sit, but she shoves me back down. The T-shirt has ridden up over her thighs to her waist. From here, I have a very good view of her pussy, slightly open, exposing her small clit. Her slit is right over my cock, and were it not for these damned pants, I’d already be inside her.

  “You’re lying. It already hurts.”

  The mischievous look on her face tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. “Just relax. Here”—she grabs my hands and places them around her ankles—“it’ll help if you have something to hold on to.”

  I glance at her feet automatically, noticing that she’s painted her nails pink. Somehow, I must give away my disappointment, because she tries to pull them out of my hands.

  “You don’t like them?” she asks, hurt. “I thought that she would have liked pink toes.” Her eyes search mine.

  “She would have,” I say, doing my best not to let her see how I really feel. It’s not that Lena wouldn’t have liked the pink. It was her favorite color. If I’d let her, she would have painted our house pink, of that I’m sure. But I’m guessing Eva isn’t a nail polish type of girl, and if she did use it, I don’t believe pink would be her color of choice.

  It doesn’t matter. My response seems to be enough for her.

  She brings her fingers to my shirt, unbuttoning it to expose my T-shirt. A frown gives away her aggravation at finding yet another layer of clothing.

  “Has your plan been foiled, sweet thing?” I smirk.

  When she leans over, pressing her heat over my hard length that’s barely being kept at bay, I know she’s made a change of plans. Her face is against my throat, her breath warm and steamy. “I think this will be the perfect spot,” she whispers in my ear.

  My fingers tighten around her ankles when she pumps her hips against me, making me groan. “You do realize that payback is a bitch, don’t you?”

  She laughs warmly. Sexily. “I hope so.”

  From somewhere on the bed, she gets the tattoo and places it and then a wet towel, which compared to her lips is like ice, against my skin. I jump the moment it makes contact with the side of my neck, but the coldness quickly dissipates.

  “There.” She climbs off, leaving me in pain, and goes to the bathroom. “You want to come see?”

  “Is that it?”

  “What do you mean, is that it? What else did you expect?”

  Shaking my head, I follow her and look at myself in the mirror. “There’s a green turtle on my neck.”

  “It’s cute.” Her sly grin makes me think she’s poking fun.

  “All right. Now it’s my turn.” I rub my hands together.

  She gives me the other turtle. “Where do you want me?”

  “On the bed.”

  She sits at the edge, her breathing already ragged because she knows she’s in trouble for leaving me hard as hell. “You’ll be gentle, won’t you?”

  “No.” Her intake of breath stokes the fire. I kneel in front of her, looking her over, trying to decide where I’ll be placing my mark. “There’s only one place for this.”

  “Do you need me to lie back?” There’s a faint tremble of excitement in her voice.

  “I want you to stay just like that,” I say as I near her.

  “Don’t you need a wet rag?”

  “I’ve got something better. Open your legs for me.”

  She does as she’s asked, slowly exposing what’s between them to me. Pink, sweet, and so wet that I can see it glistening.

  Gray eyes follow my every movement as I pull the plastic off the tattoo. Her lips part slightly and her breathing all but stops when I lean in. Her scent invades my nostrils, my soul, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to taste her. I stay as close as I can to her sweetness without actually touching her there, kissing the crease between her leg and her core instead. “I think here.”

  “Matt!” she cries out, reaching out to hold my head to her.

  I pull away, tutting her. “Keep those hands at your sides.”

  “That’s not fair!” she complains.

  “Actually, it is.”

  Pouting, she puts her hands at her sides. “Fine, but I may come just from watching you.”
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  “Would that be a bad thing?” I press the tattoo to the spot I just kissed. With my tongue, I wet the back until it’s moist enough that the image will have transferred. I peel it off, to find that, in fact, it has. But I lie. “Hmm, maybe it will work better on the other side.”

  I shift to the other leg, making sure my nose makes contact with the tip of her clit as I go. She bucks and moans but keeps her hands to herself.

  “Should I try here?” I kiss once, then move a bit closer to her vulva. “Or here?” One more kiss, then another on top of her slit, where soft hair gives way to moistness.

  “Oh God!” She falls onto her back, running her palms up her body and over her breasts.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Yes.” She sighs.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No. I’ll die if you stop.”

  I push her legs back, exposing her more to me. Her labia open and her clit protrudes, swollen and ready to be sucked. Shit, I’m swollen and ready to be sucked.

  As much as I want to prolong this torture, I need her more. Bringing my mouth above her, I run my tongue up her slit, from her asshole to her pussy. I nip on the lips, pulling on them gently until she yelps, then I lick to soothe. Her fingers tug on my hair when my tongue circles her little nub.

  I’m near the point of insanity, surrounded by her the way I am. Her taste, her scent, her skin. It’s a drug and I’m high as fuck, with no desire to ever come down.

  She screams my name as I do this over and over, suckling, flicking. And even when she comes I keep her in my mouth because I want to absorb it all, to take her inside me the way I want to be inside her.

  When I can tell she’s done, I tear my pants off and climb her. Then I’m thrusting into her as hard as she’ll take me. She’s wrapped around me, her nails digging into my back painfully. Our bodies are bound together as close as they can be, yet it’s not enough.

  I want to be with her in every possible way, to know her inside and out. And she wants the same with me.

  She rolls with me until she’s the one on top. Her hips pump hard and fast. My hands roam her body, over her breasts, down to her thighs.

  Bending forward, she places a nipple to my lips. “Bite me. Make it hurt just a little more.”

  I do as she says, suckling her first, then grazing the tender flesh with my teeth, nipping until she jumps. Her pace increases, and when I bring my hand down hard on her butt cheek, she moans loudly, falling to my chest without stopping her pumping motion.

  She bites my shoulder, as if that’s the only way she can retain any sort of control. I spank her again, and again, she moans. “Matt, harder.”

  I do it only two more times because I can’t manage any more. Seeing her this way, so out of her mind with desire and need, is pushing me over the edge, the pressure inside building to a point where I don’t know if I’ll survive the cataclysmic release.

  Just when I think I’m at my limit, she leans to the side and pulls something from a drawer. A small bottle of clear gel.

  Watching in complete fascination, I nearly choke when she places a few drops on the tips of her fingers, then reaches behind her.

  Her eyes are dark, almost black, and don’t move from mine while she spreads the lube. She says nothing when she lifts herself from me, leaving my shaft cold and desperate for her warmth. But it lasts only a moment as she shifts the tip of my cock to another entrance.

  Tightness like I’ve never felt squeezes the head, then releases it before taking it in a bit farther. Her mouth parts as I go in another inch. She pulls back, then I’m in another inch. Little by little, the sweet torture continues as all the while, her gaze holds me prisoner. It’s not until I’m completely buried inside her that I close my eyes, because it’s too much. The sensory overload is beyond anything I can take. Seeing her, feeling her, being inside her.

  But when my eyes are shut, everything else is just enhanced. Where she fit so snugly around my shaft, she’s now a vise around my entire body. The taste of her in my mouth as she leans in to kiss me is all I need to live. The feeling of her in my hands and the silk of her skin is the only warmth I’ll ever need. And when she starts to move, moaning as she does so, she pushes me into the world of insanity, where I’m not sure who or what I am. Where up is down and I don’t care about life or death. This is life and death. It’s truth and lies and I would believe it all for a chance to live inside her like this forever.

  My arms bring her tightly to me as I pour myself into her, screaming her name so that she knows it’s her that’s done this to me. It’s her that’s pushed me into a pleasure so extreme it’s painful, yet I don’t want it to end. I want it to tear into me and rip me apart again and again.

  When it’s over, I’m drained, unfocused. Guilty. I roll over, looking away.

  “Matt?” she asks.

  “What did I call you?”

  “What?”

  “What name did I call you?”

  There’s a long pause. “Lena.”

  It’s a merciful lie.

  Chapter 19

  Day four. There are only two days left. It’s a fact I’m far too aware of as I enter the apartment.

  Faint music plays overhead, a piano rendition of “Where Is My Mind.” At first, it’s hard to tell what it is, but the melody sounds so familiar that I stop and listen. The slow stroke of the keys makes it more poignant. Even though there are no words, it certainly reflects my thoughts. Where the fuck is my mind?

  Not where it should be—on making sure I get what Mr. Cage needs. Instead, it’s on the woman I can hear humming in a sultry voice that calls to me like a siren’s song.

  I walk in to find her leaning into the refrigerator, pulling out two bottles of water. Completely naked. From here, I get a good view of her derriere, the sweet thing between her legs and the puckered hole that nearly killed me yesterday.

  When she turns to me, her nipples are rock hard, as is my dick. I clear my throat, trying to gather my incoherent thoughts. “Uh, you… You’re not—”

  “Wearing anything? I thought this is what you wanted.” She leans over the counter, pointing her butt toward me. “You left me a little sore yesterday.”

  Approaching her, I press myself to her behind. “Would you like me to be gentler today?” I kiss her shoulder and up to her neck.

  She takes my hands and places them on her breasts, then down to the wetness between her legs. “Does this feel like I want you to be gentle? I want to feel you even when you’re not there.”

  I undo my belt, letting my pants fall to my ankles. Running my cock over her entrance once, just enough to wet the tip, I push into her. She tries to reach back, but I grasp her wrists and pin them to the countertop, keeping a strong hold on them.

  She cries out as I slam into her, again and again. When she bends her head to the side, and I bite her neck, she arches her back more, giving me deeper access. It’s instinctual mating, meant to claim. The harder I bite, the louder she moans.

  When she bucks against me, I know she’s reached her climax, and I release mine inside of her. I pull out, watching as that part of me spills from her and down her legs.

  Her neck is marked, as are her wrists. “Did I hurt you?” I ask with concern. With her, I lose total control, becoming a fucking mindless idiot.

  “Yes. So good.” Her glazed eyes and sexy smile says she means it. “I should probably shower.”

  “Wait.” I stop her. “I didn’t say hello properly.” Taking her in my arms, I try to ignore the way her breasts press so seductively against my chest, and I kiss her softly.

  “Did you dream of me last night, Matt?”

  I can tell she’s dropped the act. “Did you?”

  “I touched myself, thinking of you,” she says, unbuttoning my shirt.

  “Did you come?”

  “Yes. But it wasn’t as good as when you do it. Do you touch yourself when you think of me?” She looks up at me through dark lashes, her pink tongue darting out to lick
her lower lip.

  Shit. Not a minute since I’ve come inside her and she’s already got my dick twitching again.

  “Yes.” It’s true. “Twice.” That’s a lie. It was three times, but I like even numbers.

  “What did you think about as you stroked your dick?” She pushes my shirt off and it hits the floor.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “So I have something to think about tonight when I’m not with you.”

  “Maybe I can show you.”

  Taking her hand, I guide her through the house to the shower. I set the water to hot, and while we wait, I finish undressing. Her eyes follow my every movement, so I make sure to give her a good show.

  Slowly, I turn, then look back at her. Her eyes are glued to my ass. My lips pull up when I see her appreciation.

  “You see something you like?”

  Breathless, she responds, “I do. I like very much. Maybe you’ll let me touch you there too.”

  Instantly, I stand straight up. “The only one touching assholes here will be me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she says with a coy smile as she gets into the shower.

  I follow her because that’s what I do. Fuck, right now I’d probably follow her straight to hell. For all I know, that’s exactly where she’s leading me.

  The second the glass door closes behind me, I’m on her, turning her until her front is pressed to the wall. I kneel, bending farther still until her ass is at eye level. I bite her right cheek.

  “Ouch!” she yelps.

  “Hush, Ms. Eva. You said you wanted it to hurt.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  I bite the other one, and again, she winces.

  Placing my hands on both sides, I spread her, exposing her asshole to me. I want her in a way that goes beyond desire. Beyond what nature intends, as I was once told. I want everything, everywhere. Always.

  When I press my face between her cheeks, she cries out, dropping her head to the wall. Reaching behind, she holds me to her as I flick my tongue and taste her.

  “Matt, fuck, that’s too much.” She says the words but I don’t believe it, not when she refuses to let my mouth move from the spot, digging her fingers into my scalp harder the more I lick.