by Tracy Ellen
On a fluke, Dan White had answered a recent call on Emma’s cell phone when she was out of the room. The call was from their bank about a past due loan payment. Dan wasn’t aware they had a loan.
Emma, the C.P.A., had been in charge of the couple’s money their entire married life. The call caused Dan to investigate their finances and it snowballed from there. He soon found that their personal finances were in complete shambles.
Over the past decade, Emma had gutted their entire savings and investments. She created a huge mountain of debt with bank loans, second mortgages, and credit cards to pay for the multitude of failed ART procedures to conceive and carry a baby full-term. She had assured Dan all along they could afford it and lied about the costs. That betrayal was terrible to discover, but even worse was to find out that when all their personal avenues to borrow money dried up, Emma used her position as DDL’s accountant to regularly steal money from the company’s trust accounts.
Once he comprehended the full scope of what his wife was doing on her relentless quest to get pregnant, it brought Dan to the rude realization they had crossed the line from a hopeful couple to the criminally obsessed.
In the beginning, the Emma’s procedures were spaced months apart and she diligently paid back the money she’d stolen from DDL trust accounts fairly quickly. For a short while, she was able to keep pace paying on their huge debts, as well as paying back the trust accounts, but it wasn’t long before she was in way over her head. At the time of Dan’s discovery, Emma had pilfered over fifty thousand dollars from DDL that remained unpaid.
Dan confronted Emma last Sunday. She broke down and admitted to all of their debt problems and to her embezzlement at DDL. Emma agreed to confess to Daniel and Luke this weekend, after which she’d seek professional help, and abide by whatever else the partners decided.
Unfortunately, Dan didn’t understand how obsessed Emma truly was until after James Byrd’s party. All that past week, Emma had been a terrible wreck of no sleep and nerves, unable to cope with everything she had done that Dan still didn’t know about. She dreaded the weekend confession of the embezzlement to the partners, dreaded they’d somehow find out everything else, too. She started mixing pills with booze to get through the days.
Dan was appalled by Emma’s behavior last night and that led to the argument after James’ party. It escalated into a shouting match that caused the drunken, stress-crazed Emma, eaten up with guilty remorse, to break down and confess to all the rest. Emma admitted to Dan she had hired Dickie to fix me and then later accidentally killed the man she thought was Richard Webster.
Emma did believe Svetlana when she said Luke was in love with me and moving to Minnesota. She was terrified Luke would discover her embezzlement during the financial forensic investigation to sell his third of the business. She was freaked out she’d go to prison and never have a baby.
In the meantime, Emma had overheard Svettie on the phone with Dickie and discovered the secret of their fixer business. She anonymously approached Dickie to fix me. In Emma’s sick, obsessed state of mind, she tried to convince Dan she did it for all their sakes. Emma hadn’t really wanted me to die, only to disappear. She did it so Luke would have no reason to leave Chicago or DDL, and then he’d have no need to hire a forensic investigation. Emma could pay the money back she “borrowed” before it was discovered missing.
The rest of Emma’s confession to her husband was that she followed Svettie to Dickie’s apartment with the intent to beg the Fixer to return her handwritten instructions and not tell Luke, since nobody had been hurt. She was even going to allow Dickie to keep the ten thousand upfront cash for his troubles.
To her misfortune, Emma ran into their bad guy client, not Dickie. That man immediately attacked Emma when she interrupted him stealing Dickie’s money from his forgotten wallet and backpack. Somehow, Emma was able to reach the knife and stab him before he killed her. Incredibly shook up and convinced she’d killed the Fixer; Emma hastily wiped her prints from the handle of the butcher knife and ran out of the apartment.
When Luke relayed that part of Emma’s confession, I was skeptical. The man had been stabbed through the back. Luke agreed, although we conceded it was not impossible under the right circumstances. Neither of us knew how many times the client had been stabbed before the final thrust in the back.
Luke said Emma White was going to face charges for killing the bad guy client, but Chief Jack hadn’t been willing to speculate what the results would be. There were too many variables and it depended upon how good of a lawyer Dan found for Emma.
With the police having no information about the fixing business, Dan had confided to Luke that he thought Emma’s defense should stick to a simple story. She should admit to visiting a coworker and friend after work. When she arrived, the bad guy robber attacked her. Due to mental illness from issues in her life, she didn’t report the stabbing immediately, but now had come forward to the police.
Personally, I wanted Emma to suffer some form of punishment for her actions against me, but if it was a term in a psych ward versus prison, I would be okay with that sentence. I easily believed the issue of having children or not could result in extreme mental illness.
Svettie was off the hook since Dickie was alive and Emma had confessed. If questioned, Svettie had already decided her story would be she wasn’t on the run, but out of touch while vacationing with her friend. Lame, but indisputable.
Personally, Luke and I just wanted Svettie out of our lives, and Dickie, too. But first, Luke was still expecting Dickie to keep his appointment about an arm and a leg. My war-god may agree with my decision not to press legal charges, but he would never forgive the Fixer for his original willingness to leave me to die.
John Smith said he’d never believed for one nanosecond that I turned down Luke’s proposal last Sunday, or that Luke had seriously dumped me at James’ party over the kid issue. John had thought it odd Luke brought a woman home when the DDL team was visiting, but more in annoyance at Luke’s choice of Candy Mackenzie due to Pam’s issues with the woman.
Hearing Luke describe John’s contribution to their bat cave meeting, I laughed. The lack of curiosity shown by most men over life’s little details would always astonish me. It was also strangely ironic that the person with the utter certitude of mine and Luke’s love was a man that I tormented and labeled a possible sociopath. But I never said life was not bizarre or that John Smith wasn’t a smart cookie.
I stayed busy during Luke’s explanations. I kissed my way over my Emperor’s incredible body. The result of my travels caused the pesky, constricting, mortal trappings of the human male to disappear. Now he was gloriously nude, as any great Emperor of the World should be, and ready to be worshiped by his wannabe Empress. I ran my hands over his impressive largesse, stroking and squeezing, while gazing up into his glittering eyes that imperially judged my on-the-job performance.
“Why did Svettie say you were ordering the forensic investigation a few weeks ago?”
“Because it was true.”
“Okay.” I smiled at his terse answer, lowered my eyes to where they belonged, and squeezed with my two hands a bit harder. “Why were you? Was it routine like Bucky thought?”
“Bucky? Are you referring to Prissy?” Luke asked distractedly with only the briefest flash of a smile. His undivided attention was given to the business in my hands, which never was a laughing matter to any man. “No, Svetlana was on the right track. I was getting an evaluation of the company in the process of determining a market value.”
Startled, my hands stilled and I looked up. “Are you selling?”
He looked pointedly at my hands and said sternly, “Anabel, if you can’t do two things at once…”
I kissed him quickly to show my humility and got my hands back to work. I kissed him again, longer and more thoroughly--even sucked on him and licked--to prove I could do two things extremely well at the same time. My silky blonde hair draped forward to partially obscure his visual
s and he growled at the sight, but I still felt the increased swelling of his gratitude.
“Good job, Princess,” Luke murmured in pleased approval. “No, not selling, but readjusting my role in the partnership. We are going to base the training programs here, so I’ll live in Minnesota full-time…”
My hands and mouth were a little full at the moment, but I interrupted with squealing noises of excitement from deep in my throat.
Luke groaned loudly and laughed. “Yes, I thought you’d be happy that we can have these kinds of meetings much more often.”
A few minutes later, taking a short coffee break from our early morning conference, I was spread out on my Emperor’s lap, my head on his shoulder. I thought he may be satisfied with what we’d accomplished so far, but I felt him stirring under me, ready to get back to work.
Sometimes when a person was away from someone they loved their memory exaggerated their good points in absentia, but my problem with Luke was the opposite. Every time I saw him without clothes, up close and personal-like, I was astonished all over again by his beauty. My memory never did all his bronzed muscles justice, especially the size of his man muscle.
‘Maybe I should cast that muscle in bronze to remember,’ I thought, and all the voices snickered with me.
Out loud I said, “I think I’m going to keep you naked for a long, long time.”
I had thrown my sweater off when our workplace had grown overheated, but otherwise, I was fully dressed. I straddled Luke’s lap in my leggings and bra.
Luke smiled, and flicked the black velvet bow on my bra. “That’s your only response to everything I told you about in our meeting?”
“No, this is my response to that,” I retorted, and smiled as I wriggled my ass lightly on his lap.
My bra was hot pink, the thin straps were black, and the cups were completely sheer. That black velvet bow Luke flicked was in the low center of my deep cleavage.
Luke studied my breasts and smiled slowly when my nipples tightened almost painfully hard under his gaze. I felt him grow harder under me, too, but he didn’t look up as he murmured. “I like the tan. Are you going to tell me the name of this bra?”
“Ah, my sexy, breast-loving, lingerie connoisseur,” I breathed and leaned back on his lap, raised my arms to run my hands through my messy hair, and swayed my shoulders slowly to and fro to give him a full view. “Do you like this style of a see-through cup?” I sighed heavily. “My nipples are so hard whenever you are around. No matter what I am doing, I’m always imagining you sucking on them.” I leaned forward and ran my fingers through his short hair. I tugged gently while I whispered in his ear, “This bra drives me crazy. The nylon constantly rubs against my hard nipples all day, Luke. They are so sensitive to every touch, I can hardly stand it.”
I sat back and nodded at my Dark Prince. I had the satisfaction of seeing Luke’s mouth tighten the merest fraction from my butt pressing the length of his erection. His pupils flared at my words. “It’s called a plunge bra.”
“Mmm, very nice.” Luke demonstrated his approval by jerking the bra’s cups down to release my breasts without his usual slow control. He buried his face, hungrily kissed across my ta tas, and then crooked a smile up at me. “I see where it got the name.”
I giggled, but my head fell back on a soft whimper when Luke squeezed my breasts together. He sucked hard on my nipples. He took long turns with each, his fingers pinching and gently twisting the distended tip that was not receiving the loving from his mouth.
Hands on Luke’s broad shoulders, I asked breathlessly, “Can I take my pants off now?”
Not waiting for my boyfriend’s answer in case he said no, I swung my leg off Luke’s lap and lay flat back on the bed next to him. Lifting my butt, I pulled down my leggings. “Quick, do you want to see my matching panties? They’re called cheeksters.”
I got up on my knees, showing him my backside while I snapped off my bra and tossed it aside, too. I looked over my shoulder to see Luke had leaned back on his elbows. He was appreciatively eyeing my sweet, hot pink panties with sheer black inserts that bared the lower two-thirds of each butt cheek.
“You are the hottest chick I’ve ever known.” My Emperor’s black brows met and his large cock stood fully erect. It was a magnificent sight. He reached a hand out to caress my tattoo, trailing his fingers down to outline the curves of my butt, and then his hand disappeared to explore between by thighs. “But one of these times, I’d love to take all your clothes off myself.”
“We can play strip Anabel all night, my Lord Horny.” Bending and wiggling, it was quite the production to take off my cheeksters on my own, but I did it. I straddled my boyfriend again, up on my knees on either side of his hips. “But right now, let’s play the early bird gets the anaconda.”
Luke’s mouth curved, but his heavy-lidded eyes took their time to meander upwards. I could not be blamed for bouncing a little in place to contain my patience. When his glittering eyes finally reached my face, I smiled and held out my hands.
He clasped mine in return. I slowly arched back at the same time Luke was pulled forward to sit up. As I sat down, he slowly penetrated me. The straighter he sat up, the deeper he went. He was large, even for an anaconda, so I closed my eyes and bit my lip.
Luke let me set the pace. Our hands flat together at shoulder height and fingers entwined, Luke kissed my mouth. He murmured his detailed praise of tight my cha-cha, as I accepted him inside me--up and down, inch by inch. He still relished saying cha-cha. I unconsciously smiled at his sweetness, despite being somewhere off in my head in the Amazonian jungle where all my concentration was centered on where we were joined.
We were face to face, the way I envisaged a while ago. We lazily kissed and twirled our tongues while I rubbed my nipples against his chest. I squeezed my internal muscles around the fullness of him sheathed so tightly inside me that I was uncomfortably stretched. Neither of us moved, enjoying the sensation of holding perfectly still.
I released his hands and clasped my arms around his neck. Inches from his glinting eyes, I smiled at this turn of the tables.
I kissed his cruel mouth and whispered, “Now tell me everything you hate to love about me.”
Luke’s hands had slipped down to cup my butt, but they paused a moment at my words. He squeezed and I felt him thrust up inside me a fraction deeper when I didn’t think I could take one millimeter more. His hands trailed up my sides to slip between us to fondle my breasts while I tried not to move on his lap.
“I need to tell you about my deal with Candy MacKenzie.”
“Oh, please no, I can’t think of anything you need to do less,” I countered on a moan, the exquisite feelings driving me mad with arousal.
I clenched tightly around Luke again. Besides Ms. Clitty-Clitty Bang-Bang, my breasts were my body’s top two erogenous zones. Pinches of my nipples that were almost too hard, followed by gentle tugs, Luke’s fingers sent tingles straight to my cha-cha. I was already so wet and Luke had yet to barely move inside me. In case he didn’t realize that, I kegeled him a few more times, the last clench I held for a good six-seconds, and then I bounced up and down.
Luke laughed a little and warned, “Anabel.:.”
“Luke…” I mimicked, and put my forehead against his. “What you need to deal with is right on your lap, and it would please me never to hear that name even thought of in our bedroom.” I added after a beat, “Or any room.”
Without a word, Luke’s mouth covered mine in a hard kiss. His tongue thrust in my mouth while one hand moved to my waist and the other between my legs. Luke began to bounce me in earnest, thrusting high and hard inside me. He hit all the good spots at once; Ms. Clitty-Clitty, the mysterious G, my nipples against his hard chest, his tongue sucking mine, and oh my war-GOD--the invading guerilla finger!
I thought I was going blind. It was amazing.
Luke stopped abruptly and I cried out in denial at his epic cruelty, unheard of even from my Torquemada.
H
is hands cupped my face and he said in a dangerous, low tone, “I’ll tell you what I hate to love about you. You are heading for a collision with your cousin that can only result in something bad.”
He kissed me hard and said, “You will probably win the fight.”
He kissed me again, only slightly softer, and warned, “But, Sweetheart, that’s one fight you can’t ever really win.”
His hips started moving slowly again. His next kiss was lingeringly full, his lips sucking on mine. “Hate her all you want, Anabel, but she is your blood.”
His fingers threaded through my hair and his hands cradled my head while green eyes stared deep into mine and commanded me to listen. “She will deserve whatever you do, but you won’t deserve what happens to you.”
He rocked me steadily, forcefully. The throbbing need inside that had teetered on the brink began to unfurl again as he said harshly against my lips, “You will end up killing her.”
One hand stroked between my legs to give me that last touch I needed, even as his kisses slowed, gentled, but it was his quiet words that resulted in my complete undoing. “But I love you too much to let you.”
I came so hard it hurt.
“That’s why Candy is now my employee.”
I laughed so hysterically, I cried.
“Candy is now my problem, not yours.”
I was so angry, my eyes flashed red.
“You trust me with your life, Anabel, right?”
I was so frustrated he knew me that I kicked my heels and had a temper tantrum.
If you’ve never had an epic orgasm, at the same time you laugh insanely, cry, and experience demonic possession, I highly advise against it.
It was not pretty.
Epilogue
“Twist and Shout” by The Beatles
Monday, 12/17
7:45 PM
I sat alone in the darkness of my apartment, drinking a bubble water and staring at my twinkling Christmas tree lights. I was taking a moment to gather my thoughts before I left to walk the couple of blocks to the warehouse to meet Crazy.
