Taking It Off

by Claire Kent

  “But,” Matt began, his eyes moving from her face to the breast he’d been about to take in his mouth. He looked hot and fierce and a little dazed. “I was going to—”

  “I know. But I just want you. Not any kind of performance. Just you.”

  Matt’s face twisted strangely.

  “Please, Matt,” she said, her heart so full it was overflowing any boundaries she’d ever known before. “Please. I just want you.”

  He made a choking sound and closed his eyes. And when he opened them they were blazing with something so powerful she couldn’t fully process it. He leaned down to kiss her hard. Then he held himself above her, his mouth barely brushing against hers. “I want you too, Elizabeth. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

  She smiled against his lips. “Good.”

  He pressed a few more soft kisses against her mouth, but then he lifted himself up several inches, supporting himself on his forearms.

  “So will you please fuck me now?” she asked, the urgency of her arousal not to be denied.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll last tonight,” he admitted. “I’m not…at my best.”

  “I want you just like this. I don’t care how long you last.” She parted her legs to make room for him between them.

  He didn’t object any further, pausing just long enough to grab a condom from the nightstand so they didn’t make a mistake like they had earlier. Then he lined himself up at her pussy and sank into her with a pitch of his hips, his eyes never leaving hers.

  They both moaned at the first penetration. He was big, and he felt even tighter than normal. They lay together for a minute without moving, joined in the most intimate way, on the cusp between desire and action.

  When Elizabeth’s body relaxed around Matt and her desire returned in full force, she started to shift beneath him.

  He closed his eyes with a soft groan.

  “Please, Matt,” she breathed.

  She knew he was trying to control himself. She knew he was on the edge of losing it already. His skin had broken out in a sheen of sweat, and he was holding himself so tightly he almost shook.

  But she wanted him to let go.

  She pulled him down into a kiss.

  His hips started to move as he responded to her kiss, his tongue making the same rhythmic thrusts as his pelvis. She rocked up into his motion and let the sensations overwhelm her, kissing him for as long as she could before the carnal urgency became too strong.

  Breaking the kiss, they gazed at each other as their bodies built up a hard, fast rhythm they couldn’t control, shaking the bed and slapping together with a primitive sound. The friction was tight and full and hot and overwhelming, and Elizabeth huffed out breathless sounds that got louder and louder, matching the rhythm of Matt’s grunts.

  He hadn’t been lying about not being able to last long. His features twisted with effort as his rutting got more uncontrolled. But Elizabeth didn’t care. She was almost there already, and it wasn’t really about the orgasm anyway.

  Matt was with her in this. In a way he hadn’t been with her before tonight. In the way she wanted him to be with her for a long time after this.

  And his palpable need for her was more overwhelming than his motion inside her.

  “So sweet,” he rasped in choppy, guttural succession. “So good. Elizabeth. Baby.”

  She made a sobbing sound as she arched beneath him—the words pushing her to the edge of climax. “Matt,” she cried out as the tension tightened with unbearable pleasure. “Oh God, Matt!”

  Her body shuddered and shook as the waves of her orgasm ripped through her. Her channel clamped down around him, trapping him inside her as she pulsed.

  He choked on an agonized groan as his body clenched and froze in palpable tension.

  “You can have hope in this, Matt,” she gasped, trembling and on the verge of tears.

  He let go. Of everything. And the shattering pleasure and release on his face were impossible not to understand. He jerked against her as he came, choking on a helpless exclamation.

  He collapsed on top of her when he’d worked through the waves of his climax. His elbows buckled and his arms just gave out.

  His weight was hot and heavy, and the sudden impact was startling. But Elizabeth just gathered him in, holding him with her arms and between her legs, never wanting to let him go.

  It was a long time before he could pull up and relieve her of some of his weight. And it was even longer before he could speak.

  Elizabeth was sore from this second round of sex in less than eight hours. But she didn’t move. Not until his body had softened deliciously and he’d managed to roll off her.

  With a smile and a kiss for Matt, who was stretched out in a limp sprawl on the bed, Elizabeth heaved herself up and limped to the bathroom to take care of the condom and clean herself up a little.

  When she returned, she curled up next to Matt and sighed in pleasure when he took her in his arms, adjusting so he was spooning her from behind.

  He brushed a kiss or two against her hair. And after a few minutes he said, “How are you?”

  She huffed with laughter. “I’m okay. How about you?”

  “I’m okay too.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder and saw that he meant it. He looked better than he had since his mother had been dumped onto the pavement of the parking lot.

  She must have helped him after all.

  And she started to hope—against all reason—that there might be something here she’d never imagined, something real that had been growing, something far deeper than the surface they’d been playing at, something that could last.

  —

  Matt woke up feeling completely battered, like every ounce of energy in his body had been used up.

  It took a few moments to register everything that had happened.

  The first thing he remembered was Elizabeth, since she was pressed up against his side, sound asleep.

  He felt again the thrill and elation and boundless hope he’d experienced last night, when it had seemed like Elizabeth genuinely wanted him—the real him, the whole him—and wanted to know him even more deeply.

  Then he remembered the rest of the evening. His mother. The drug dealer who had dumped her out like garbage for Matt to find. The endless, hopeless cycle of his life.

  Elizabeth was going to be a governor’s daughter. They would never let her be with a guy like him, even if she miraculously decided that she wanted to.

  Randomly—just through the chaotic wandering of his thoughts—he remembered a private bachelorette party he’d booked as a stripper when he was eighteen. The women had all been really drunk, and they’d pawed, groped, and grabbed at him until he’d felt trapped. Vulnerable. He’d tried to good-naturedly push them away, as he usually did, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  He’d been really young. He’d actually been a little scared. He’d ended up leaving rather clumsily, swearing to never do a private function again.

  He had, though. Countless private functions, as well as stage work over the years.

  Anytime he’d tried to start over and move beyond what was ugly in his life, it had never failed to drag him back down.

  There was no reason to assume this could be different. He’d only end up dragging Elizabeth down into it too.

  He hadn’t moved, but maybe the tension in his body had woken her up, because she started to shift beside him. She blinked up at him in the morning light, smiling at him sweetly. “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” he murmured, telling himself for the thousandth time that she wasn’t for him. If the dirty, tragic mess of his mother last night taught him anything, it should teach him this.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, reaching over to stroke his chest.

  He loved how soft and affectionate she was acting, but it made that knot tighten in his gut so deeply he almost felt sick. “Okay.”

  Her brows drew together, as if she recognized that so
mething was wrong, different. “Do you want me to come to the hospital with you today? I don’t have any plans.”

  He shook his head. “No. Thank you.”

  “Okay.” She sat up. She was completely naked, and the sheet fell down to reveal soft, full breasts with tight nipples that caused his cock to twitch in interest. She was obviously not thinking at all about sex right now, though. Her face was serious. “Well, call me later and let me know how she’s doing.”

  “It’s fine, Elizabeth,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I was…needy last night, but I’m not usually like that. You don’t have to take care of me.”

  “But I want to—”

  “I don’t actually like to be taken care of.”

  The words were too clipped. He hadn’t wanted them to sound so mean. He just wanted her to stop being generous and beautiful and kindhearted and everything he’d wanted all his life.

  She blinked. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound that way.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, something flickering on her face for a few moments before it relaxed into a causal smile. “I get it. I…uh, I don’t know if I can come by Bare Assets anymore. With my dad’s campaign starting, it would just lead to trouble. He’s going to be announcing soon.”

  “I know.” He knew what she was doing—letting him know the ball was in his court, hoping that he’d pick it up and ask for her number, ask her out for a date.

  He wasn’t going to do that, though. He knew better than she did that there was nothing to hope for in this.

  Nothing that would lead anywhere, anyway.

  “It’s been fun,” he said lightly, trying to sound natural, not like he was letting go of the only thing that had brought him joy in years.

  “Yeah.” She was clearly trying to match his unconcerned tone and expression, but she couldn’t quite do it. She looked like she’d been struck, like she might start to cry.

  He couldn’t let her do it, or he would lose all his resolve. He climbed quickly out of the bed, reaching down to find his underwear and pull it on. “Stay as long as you want,” he said. “You can make coffee or whatever.” Then he went into the bathroom.

  He knew she wouldn’t stay. She wouldn’t make coffee. She would be gone when he got out of the bathroom.

  He was right.

  He heard the front door shut, and he glanced out the window to see that she was crying as she left the building and walked down the block to her car.

  The stab in his heart was almost unbearable, but it was better like this.

  She wanted to be with him now, but a relationship between them could never last.

  Better to end it early, before it ended up hurting both of them even more.

  Chapter 10

  Elizabeth got back home at about eight o’clock in the morning, and she was so upset and exhausted that she went right to bed, without even taking a shower first.

  She’d cried the whole drive back, and she cried a little more as she crawled under the covers, but she ended up falling asleep pretty quickly. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

  She didn’t wake up until she heard the phone ringing.

  She sat up abruptly, jarred awake by the sound, and it took a minute for her to figure out where she was and what was going on.

  When she finally oriented herself, she reached over to grab her phone from the nightstand, mumbling out a hello.

  “Elizabeth? It’s Melissa.”

  “Oh, hi, Melissa.” It was almost two in the afternoon on Sunday, and she was starting to remember why she was sleeping in the middle of the day. Her stomach dropped as she remembered what had happened with Matt—how she’d really thought they could have something real, until he’d snatched it away the next morning. “Sorry. I got in late last night.”

  “I guess you did.” Melissa’s voice made it sound like she had a juicy secret.

  Elizabeth just wasn’t in the mood for gossip. “What does that mean?”

  “Did you just wake up? You mean you haven’t seen the news yet?”

  “What news?”

  “Why didn’t you tell us you’d been slumming it?”

  “Slumming it?” Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her face, feeling sick and sad and too fuzzy to figure out this conversation. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You better turn on the news. I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”

  Elizabeth still had absolutely no idea what was going on. But she wanted to get Melissa off the phone, and she figured the easiest way was to do what she wanted. So she fumbled around until she found the remote to her television in the bedroom and clicked it on. “What channel?”

  Melissa mentioned a cable news channel, so Elizabeth switched over to it. The first thing she saw was a picture of her father on the screen—a publicity shot of him shaking hands with a former vice president.

  Frowning, she lowered the phone and read the words printed across the bottom of the screen. SECRET LIFE OF CANDIDATE’S DAUGHTER.

  She blinked, trying to process what this meant. The news commentator was saying something about how Preston Marks was scheduled for an event next week in which he was expected to announce himself as a candidate for the upcoming gubernatorial election in Massachusetts.

  Then she gasped as she saw a photo of her on the screen—the shot of her with little Rosa in last year’s preschool class that they used on the Web site. Now the voice-over was talking about how she taught at this prestigious school.

  Then the image switched over to a video that looked like it had been taken on a phone. She recognized the location—the parking lot of Bare Assets. The unmistakable neon sign was evident in the background. The video was focused on a couple against a car.

  Her car.

  She and Matt were the couple.

  He had her pressed up against the side of the Mercedes, and her legs were wrapped around him. Both of them had their clothes on, but they were obviously fucking. The urgent, primitive rutting motion, even slightly blurred out to be suitable for television, was not likely to be misinterpreted.

  All that could be seen of Matt was the back of his head and body, but her face was visible from the angle of the shot. She stared in shock and rising horror at the sight of her face, twisting helplessly in obvious pleasure.

  It was her. Getting fucked by Matt against the side of a car. Right there on a cable news channel.

  Where everyone could see.

  She heard a sound and realized Melissa was still on the line. Without thinking, she raised the phone back to her ear.

  “Are you still there?” Melissa was asking.

  “Yeah.” Her voice came out as a croak. “Yeah.”

  “They’re saying he’s that superhot stripper, the owner of the club. Why didn’t you tell me you had this whole dirty secret life going on?”

  “I—” She was almost choking as the reality caught up to her. “I’ve—I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay. But I want to hear all the details eventually.”

  Elizabeth absently disconnected the call without even saying good-bye. Then she stared at the screen again. The segment was ending, concluding with a brief discussion of how this would seriously affect her father’s chances of winning an election.

  Her eyes glazed over as she switched to another news channel, just in time to see the end of that same video. The announcer on this channel was saying that the video had surfaced just a few hours ago and had immediately been linked to the daughter of Preston Marks, who was about to announce his run for the governor of Massachusetts and whom everyone had assumed was a shoo-in, given his immaculate record.

  His record wasn’t immaculate anymore. He had a daughter who screwed strippers in public.

  Elizabeth’s stomach churned as she flipped through a few more channels. All the news stations had picked it up. Everyone liked some dirty gossip, and they could justify it as news because of her father’s political ambitions.

&
nbsp; One channel had done research on Matt’s identity, and they’d dug up an old picture of him dressed for a performance, shirtless with tear-away pants on, posing in a way that showed off his body, with a teasing little smile on his face.

  The photo must have been ten years old—he looked young, more showy, and there was something hard about his expression that she didn’t really see in him now.

  This was the man the daughter of Preston Marks had been having a secret, passionate affair with.

  They showed the video again.

  Everyone would be seeing this. All of her friends. All of the people she worked with. All of her students’ parents. Even some of her students might catch it on television.

  Her stomach churned even more, and she put a hand on her belly.

  They would all see her like that, getting fucked in a parking lot, without any thought for privacy or decency.

  Oh God, her mother would see it. She was probably seeing it right now.

  Her father would see it. Her father. Watching his little girl get fucked.

  Elizabeth was slammed with waves of heat, and her stomach started to heave. She jumped out of bed in a panic, racing for the bathroom.

  She got there just in time to lower herself to her knees and vomit into the toilet in grating, ugly dry heaves.

  Everyone would know. Everyone would judge her. Everyone would assume the life she’d worked so hard to build was nothing but a facade.

  It was a facade, and she could feel it crumbling all around her even now.

  She collapsed onto the floor when she’d stopped retching, and she shook with silent, tearless sobs.

  But it wasn’t over. It hadn’t even begun.

  Her phone started to ring again.

  —

  An hour later she was trying not to cry as she put her phone on speaker. “Mom,” she interrupted, “Mom, just listen. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I had no idea—”

  “How could you have no idea something like this would happen?” Her mom was shrill and upset and very angry. “You must have known it would come out. I mean, a prostitute—”

  “He’s not a prostitute!” Elizabeth snapped. “He owns a strip club.”