Hard to Handle

by Raven Scott

  “Kaylee,” he whispered, despite his vow to keep this purely physical. But then she was lowering herself down onto her knees in front of him, and Sam forgot whatever he was going to say anyway. No, no, no, his brain screamed, but his cock was pleading, yes, yes, yes, much more loudly. Kaylee took hold of his length at the base and slowly sucked the thick tip into that beautiful mouth. He could not hold back a deep groan. She lowered over him until he hit the back of her throat, though she was still a couple of inches from the base. Then she pulled back all the way and did it again. And again. Sam was transfixed. It was the most purely perfect blowjob he’d ever witnessed. Then she sucked hard on his head, teasing the underside, and scraping lightly over the sensitive top with her teeth.

  “Blimey!” Sam swore as sweat broke out on his forehead.

  She was back to the long, sucking strokes, this time faster, purposeful. Sam couldn’t take his eyes off her as he added this moment to the small repository of memories that he could draw on later. But the force of his impending orgasm was back, harder and more urgent than before. Way too soon to satisfy all his cravings. Sam reached down to cup the back of her head, and eased himself out of her mouth. He groaned from the loss of contact, but then watched unblinking as she stroked her hands over the long length, still slick and wet from her saliva.

  Sam was convinced she was trying to break him.

  “Stand up,” he demanded, sounding rougher than he intended.

  Kaylee closed her eyes, but allowed him to help her off the floor. He then led her up the stairs to the second floor. On the landing there were two equal-sized bedrooms with a full bathroom in the middle. Sam went into one of the rooms and opened the closet. There was a packed duffel bag on the floor with three or four days’ worth of clothes, toiletries, and other emergency essentials. He opened a side pocket and took out an unopened box of condoms.

  When he stood back up, Kaylee was standing beside the bed watching him. She suddenly looked so small and vulnerable in her oversized top and bare feet.

  Sam paused, remembering the incident that had brought them together. It should have made him stop or at least slow things down dramatically. But it didn’t. He was still rock hard, and there was a dark hunger driving him—a primal need to take her, on his terms. Possess her in the most carnal way, and her look of fragility in the sterile bedroom only fanned the flames.

  Sam tore open the condom packet as he walked to her and effortlessly rolled the thin membrane on. She watched. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside, pulled her into a tight embrace, and bent low to bite at her neck. Kaylee gasped, running her hand over his shoulder, gripping the thick bulge of his biceps. She moaned appreciatively. His cock pulsed against her abdomen.

  “Sam,” she whispered, but he didn’t want her words.

  He gripped her hips and turned her around. She cried out softly in surprise as he pushed forward until she bent at the waist with her arms braced on the bed. Her legs were closed and that round ass was perfectly displayed. Sam gripped both curves to lift her higher, aligned with his thrust. He knew he was being rough, callous, selfish, but he didn’t stop. He just pulled aside her obviously expensive lace panties, gripped them like a handle, and stroked deep. She was so wet and tight.

  Kaylee moaned deep. Or maybe it was Sam, he didn’t care. He was too buried in her silken sheath to know the difference. Every inch of his body was alive with the sole focus of taking her hard and fast so that he couldn’t tell where his flesh ended and hers began. It didn’t last long.

  Sam came in minutes with adolescent gracelessness. He roared with it, bucking his hips from the force of the shudders. It was both insanely good, and horribly unsettling. The intensity left him boneless in his wake. He wrapped his arms around Kaylee as they both fell onto the bed, then rolled them over so she wasn’t crushed by his considerable weight. They lay there, breathing hard for several minutes.

  The remorse came soon after. It tasted pretty bitter. He hadn’t even taken off his pants.

  Sam got up and went to the bathroom next door to discard the protection and clean up. He returned a couple of minutes later to sit on the bed beside her, his legs wide, hands clasped between them, head bowed.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally stated into the silence. “That was unacceptable and uncalled for.”

  Sam heard what sounded like a sniffle and his heart cracked. He looked over to see that she was lying on her back, arms straight by her side, staring widely up at the ceiling.

  “Kaylee.” A thin river of wetness trailed from the corner of her eye and into her tousled hair.

  Uncertain of how to handle this, he lay down on his side, wrapped his arm across her waist and pulled her closer, draping one of his denim-clad legs across her naked ones until she was buried in the cocoon of his body. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly.

  She let out a deep sigh with just a hint of sorrow.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, hoping desperately that he hadn’t.

  “No. No,” she assured him. “It was just—”

  “I know. I had no right to take you like that,” Sam acknowledged, swallowing around the awkward knot in his throat.

  “No, it was fine,” she told him, still looking up at nothing. “It was . . .”

  “Rough,” Sam muttered when she seemed to struggle with the right word.

  “Yes. And I think I needed it like that.” She let out a light, nervous laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so emotional. But it’s been a long day, and I think that’s exactly what I needed.”

  Sam let out a breath, caught off guard by her words. Kaylee never seemed to react to things the way he expected.

  Finally, she turned her head and looked up at him, her eyes clear and honest.

  “And I know that this doesn’t change anything between us,” she added softly.

  He looked back at her for a few long moments. No, this didn’t change anything. But it did give them a little more time to enjoy this unique physical connection, even though there was no possibility for more. He brushed his fingers across her cheek and traced the line at the edge of her face, along the jaw. She bit her lip, and Sam leaned down to taste their fullness.

  They kissed slowly, tenderly, taking their time to explore a softer connection. They helped each other remove the rest of their clothes, then kissed some more exploring the swells and contours of each other’s bodies. When she was flushed and slick, Sam lay her back down, slipped on a condom and slowly penetrated her heat. Their eyes locked, and they rocked gently, slowly increasing speed and urgency. Sam lifted her legs higher on his waist, deepening his thrust, and entwined her fingers with his above her head. They raced together in a rhythmic gait until Kaylee crested, gripping his length so tight in her sheath that he orgasmed moments later.

  He held her close until her breath deepened and she was asleep. Then Sam carefully climbed out of the bed and took a shower. Back downstairs, wearing only a towel, he did a quick security check, then called Lucas on his cell phone. It was almost ten-thirty.

  “What’s the verdict?” his friend asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

  “Sounds like your garden variety of coercion,” Sam confirmed, then relayed a summary of what Kaylee had told him earlier in the evening. “I’ll take her back to New York tomorrow and look into it. But with one complication. Looks like I’ll be spending my vacation doing this pro bono.”

  Lucas laughed. “Really? And why is that?”

  “Evan,” he replied simply. “She’s convinced that if he knew about the threats, he would feel obligated to tell her father. And since she doesn’t know that Evan can keep a secret like a professional spy, I couldn’t exactly convince her otherwise. She wouldn’t leave the hotel with me until I agreed to her terms, so I told her what she wanted to hear.”

  “So, that’s your plan? Work for free?” Lucas asked, clearly not supportive.

  “Seems like the best solution. I only have to follow her direction and accept her terms if she’s a clie
nt. And she’s only a client if she’s paying our fees. Otherwise, I’m doing her a favor during my time off,” Sam reasoned.

  “And when she finds out that you’ve lied to her?”

  “Then she’ll hardly be in the position to be vexed, now will she?”

  “Geez, Mac, you really don’t know anything about women, do you?”

  “I know enough to be dangerous,” Sam quipped, and listened to Lucas laugh. “I’ll need Renee to stay on the case. Nothing physical right away, just eyes and ears for me when needed. Can we afford it?”

  “Yeah, sure. I was going to keep her on desk duty for another couple of weeks. So now I can blame you for the lack of field work.”

  Sam shrugged. “She would have taken it out on me anyway.”

  “What about Evan?”

  “I’ll bring him up to speed next week, when I know more about the extent of this threat,” Sam confirmed. “But with any luck, we’ll have this thing sewn up tight in a few days.”

  “Do you need anything before you leave?”

  “No. I have a bag at the safe house. Should be enough for three or four days. I’ll buy whatever else I need.”

  “All right, keep me posted,” Lucas requested.

  They hung up, and Sam rummaged through the fridge and cupboards for water and snacks, then spent another thirty minutes securing a private plane for a morning flight.

  CHAPTER 5

  Kaylee remembered the day she’d met Samuel Mackenzie with absolute clarity, even four years later. It was the day that had changed her life in more ways than one.

  At twenty-four years old, she had been living her dream, working as a staff reporter at the Baltimore Journal. The Journal was one of the smallest publications owned by Clement Media, and the perfect place to start her career in journalism with complete anonymity, writing as Kaylee Stone. Only the chief editor and the head of human resources knew who she really was, and both had strict instructions from George Clement not to provide any special treatment or let anyone else know that his daughter was working in the company.

  The arrangement had worked fine for over a year. Kaylee had started in research, then earned her way up to writing about city politics. Her editor, Jason Holt, had seemed like a good guy, though a little lackadaisical in his job. She’d made good friends at the paper and among the city staff. She’d become close with one friend in particular, Rosalie Anderson. Rosalie worked in the mayor’s office and often provided information that gave Kaylee the edge on breaking news.

  It was a Tuesday in late April when Kaylee and Rosalie had met for coffee after a particularly heated city council meeting to review the budget.

  “Are they really projecting a two-million-dollar overspend this year?” Kaylee asked.

  “Honestly, I think that’s conservative,” Rosalie replied in a low voice, looking around to ensure they weren’t overheard. “It’s not all from this year. They saw the problem last fall after the budgets were already approved and decided to carry most of the spending over into this year so they’d have more time to balance the books.”

  “How can they do that?”

  Rosalie leaned closer. “I only know that they delayed paying some invoices.”

  “Like renegotiating terms, or just making the payments?”

  “I don’t know exactly how.”

  “But for how many vendors? That’s a lot of money,” Kaylee added.

  “That’s the thing. Most of the overspend is for only two contracts,” Rosalie explained.

  “What? How is that possible?”

  “It’s not that unusual, really. Especially for infrastructure projects. The bids all look good on paper, then a year later, they are all delayed and way over budget.”

  Kaylee could only look at her friend with her mouth agape. “How is that possible? Isn’t there any oversight or fines? Or someone responsible for making sure that doesn’t happen?”

  “You would think so.”

  Kaylee was ready to ask a load of other questions, but Rosalie looked around with obvious concern. “I have to go,” she said, slipping on her purse and picking up her still full coffee mug. “Do me a favor? Keep this to yourself for now?”

  “Rosalie, this is huge. You know I can’t do that.”

  “Please? As a favor to me?”

  “Okay,” Kaylee conceded. “I won’t do anything with it for now. Not until I can get more information from other sources.”

  “Thank you. I have to go or I’ll be late for a meeting.”

  Kaylee watched Rosalie walk away with a feeling of excitement bubbling wildly in her stomach. Something definitely smelled wrong, and every instinct told her there was a big story at the heart of it. She just needed a little bit more information to corroborate the facts.

  At the next meeting with her boss two days later, Kaylee mentioned the debate at city hall about a potential budget overspend, and that she wanted to pursue a story on what was behind it.

  “How much overspend?” he asked, barely looking up from his computer.

  “About two million dollars,” she explained.

  “For the whole fiscal year? That’s nothing.” Jason dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “It’s probably just an accounting error. They’ll sort it out at some point.”

  “I don’t know,” Kaylee persisted. “Councilman Marchesi seemed pretty adamant that the mayor’s office was mismanaging the budget and was demanding an answer.”

  “Everyone knows that Emeril Marchesi is planning to run against Mayor Lyle Gordon in next year’s election. So, there’s the real story, Kaylee,” he explained in a patronizing glare. “This all sounds like political posturing more than anything else. You better get used to it, ’cause it’s going to be a long and messy campaign.”

  Kaylee was well aware of Emeril Marchesi’s political aspirations. And while she had the urge to provide more information about potential vendor favoritism for infrastructure projects, she also remembered her promise to Rosalie. Once she had more evidence from other sources, she would give Jason an update. Then of course he would support her story.

  For three weeks, Kaylee tried to uncover any information to substantiate the rumor that two building companies were overcharging the city, but hit a wall at every turn. She talked to several people in the various municipal offices responsible for city building contracts. Kaylee also tracked down a copy of the budget update shared at the last city council meeting, but it had only very high-level line items, not enough information to support or disprove her theory. None of her usual contacts knew anything more specific, nor could they point her in the right direction. Finally, she tried the Department of Audits, hoping to uncover any known incidents of waste or fraud related to building contracts, but with no useful results.

  The next morning was a Friday, and Jason called her into his office as soon as she arrived at work.

  “What were you doing at city hall yesterday?” he demanded before she could sit down.

  “What?” she stammered, caught off guard.

  “I just got off the phone with Norma Sanders. As in the city of Baltimore comptroller, Norma Sanders. She wanted to know why one of my reporters was harassing her executive assistant yesterday—”

  “I wasn’t harassing anyone!”

  “Harassing her executive assistant and making threats to uncover mismanagement in the contract bidding process.”

  “I never made any threats!” Kaylee insisted.

  “I don’t give a shit what you did, Stone. You were out of line! Now what the hell were you doing in the comptroller’s offices?”

  Kaylee bit her bottom lip.

  “I was following a lead on a story,” she replied, softly.

  “On what exactly?” Jason snapped back.

  “The forecasted budget overspend.”

  “What?”

  She lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders and repeated her words.

  “Are you kidding me?” he yelled, slapping the top of his desk with the palm of his hand. “I told
you to leave it alone! There is no story there!”

  “I know, but I have information from a very credible source—”

  “Who?” demanded Jason, leaning forward aggressively.

  Kaylee stepped back as tingles of dread began creeping up her back. She had known there was a risk that her boss would be mad about pursuing the story, but this reaction was way beyond what she had expected.

  “I can’t say,” she told him in a strong, steady voice. “But there is something going on there, Jason. I know it.”

  “You know nothing,” he snapped. “And I don’t need city officials calling my office, questioning the conduct of my reporters. So as of today, I’m reassigning you to Arts and Culture.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Kaylee protested, unable to believe what was happening.

  “Deadly serious,” Jason replied as he sat down behind his desk and started sorting through the litter of documents on top. “You’re just lucky the comptroller didn’t call the chief with this or you would be out of a job. Now, get the hell out of my office.”

  Kaylee spent the rest of the day in a fog, thinking through the conversations she’d had the day before with city workers. Yes, she had spoken to Andrea Butler, the executive assistant to the comptroller, and asked some pointed questions about managing contractor invoicing and overspend. But there had been nothing threatening or aggressive in Kaylee’s comments or tone. But obviously someone, the executive assistant, the comptroller, or someone else, wanted to ensure the questions stopped, by making a formal complaint to her boss.

  By the end of the day, she was too angry to let it go. Rather than hang out with her girlfriends after work, she walked twenty minutes straight home to her Harbor East apartment, quickly packed an overnight bag, and drove an hour in her car to her parents’ home in McLean, Virginia.

  “Miss Mikayla!” exclaimed the family housekeeper, Ida Fuentes, with a big smile. “I didn’t know you’d be home this weekend.”