“God, Kyle!” The orgasm came on her like a gunshot, an explosion. Every nerve seized and her thighs clenched around him as he stiffened above her. He gripped her thighs where they still stung from his blows and pressed her down, down, down. She wanted him to hold her down forever, to fill her and not let her go. Her pussy clamped down on his hard thickness, a jolting release made even sweeter by the way he shook and shuddered above her.
When he fell against her she lay still, not wanting to stir and cause him to move. A moment later she heard a chuckle and a soft gasp of breath against her cheek.
“I suppose we could have been quieter.”
Caressa didn’t answer. Quiet was the last thing on her mind. God, the way he fucked her, like an animal rutting, like a wild man. He had slapped her thigh, hard. She still felt the warmth of his handprint.
And she had liked it. Very much.
He finally drew back to lie beside her, turning questioning eyes on her. “So…you got your spanking. Did you enjoy it as much as you hoped?”
She looked past him, over his shoulder. “What do you think?”
He tweaked her chin and tsked at her. “Don’t be a smart ass. Tell me if you liked it or not.”
She forced her gaze back to his, stared into those blue eyes that pinned her as effectively as his cock. “I still feel it.” She didn’t know what she meant by that…if she meant the burn on her thigh or his cock still firm and stirring in her. “You’ve got quite a libido working there.”
“I do all right,” he sighed, pulling away from her. He kissed her, not gently, and rolled off the bed. He stood over her and she felt suddenly naked, vulnerable. She pulled the sheets over herself and looked past him again.
“Can I sleep in here with you?” he asked.
“No.”
He studied her a moment longer, then shrugged. “It’s late, and if I sleep in here I’ll probably just keep you up later than I should.”
“You’ve already done that.”
He stretched his gorgeous limbs, refusing to rise to the bait. She watched and pretended he didn’t make her heart beat faster and her mouth go dry. He started to dress and she turned on her side, remembering everything that his ruthless seduction had driven away for precious moments. The concert, the horrible flubs. The undeserved applause. The piece had slipped ahead just out of her fingers. She’d thought she had it once or twice, but overall the performance was average at best—
Ohhh… He was leaning over her, licking up the side of her neck. She shivered and almost reached for him, reached to pull him back down beside her, with his spicy, manly smell and his voice like caramel.
“YOU STILL TASTE LIKE TEARS,” HE WHISPERED. HIS TONGUE SLIPPED BEHIND HER EAR, TEASING AND TEMPTING. THEN HE KISSED HER GENTLY ON THE FOREHEAD AND WAS GONE.
CHAPTER FIVE:
INVOLVED
KYLE STAYED IN BED LATE THE NEXT MORNING. HE’D ADJUSTED TO WEST COAST TIME EASILY, AS IF HE’D NEVER BEEN AWAY, BUT HE DIDN’T WANT TO GET UP AND FACE CARESSA AND HER AUNT DENISE. NOT YET.
YESTERDAY’S CARNAL SHENANIGANS HAD SURPRISED HIM ONLY BRIEFLY. HE HADN’T BEEN WITH A GIRL IN AGES, SO OF COURSE PASSION WOULD QUICKLY FLARE TO LIFE WITH A NEW, EXCITING PARTNER. FLARE. FROTH. COMBUST. CONFLAGRATE. SHE SET HIM ON FIRE, POSSIBLY BECAUSE SHE WAS SUCH A FLAMING MANIAC HERSELF.
OF COURSE, HE’D WORKED WITH ERRATIC TYPES BEFORE, VERY SUCCESSFULLY. FOR FIVE YEARS, HE’D MANAGED TO KEEP JEREMY GRAY’S CRAZY ON LOW BOIL. BUT WAS HE ‘WORKING’ WITH CARESSA, REALLY? OR WAS HE DOING SOMETHING ELSE ALTOGETHER? HIS PHONE BUZZED AND KYLE SMILED TO SEE JEREMY’S NUMBER ON THE DISPLAY SCREEN. HE’D ALWAYS HAD IMPECCABLE TIMING.
“HEY, JEREMY. WHAT’S UP?”
“I HEARD YOU WERE OVER ON THE WEST COAST.”
“ARE YOU HERE?”
JEREMY LAUGHED. “I’M IN DENMARK.”
“WHAT TIME IS IT THERE?”
“I DON’T KNOW AND I DON’T PARTICULARLY CARE.”
KYLE ALMOST ASKED, “IS NELL THERE?” BUT INSTEAD BIT HIS TONGUE. THEN HE REALIZED HE HADN’T EVEN THOUGHT OF NELL IN SEVERAL DAYS. JEREMY WAS BARRELING ON, BOMBARDING HIM WITH QUESTIONS. “WHAT?” KYLE ASKED.
“THE NEW JOB. HOW’S IT WORKING OUT FOR YOU? WITH THE VIOLINIST?”
“CELLIST.”
“OH, EXCUSE ME. WHATEVER. WHAT’S SHE LIKE?”
KYLE LAUGHED. “INTENSE. HONESTLY, SHE’S GIVING YOU A RUN FOR YOUR MONEY IN THE TORTURED ARTISTE DEPARTMENT.”
“I wonder what you ever did in life to deserve it. Really, she’s as bad as me?”
“Probably worse. But…I don’t know. I’m actually enjoying myself. In a way, I think she needs me. I think I can help this woman if she’ll let me.”
“You always did have that hero thing going on. Hopefully no bullets involved in this case.”
“Trust me, I’m not getting anywhere near this girl and firearms.”
They both laughed, and then Jeremy abruptly changed direction. “Still sober, I guess?”
“Yeah, of course. Nine months, three weeks, four days. I need all my wits about me right now.”
Jeremy was quiet a moment on the other end. “You’re already fucking her, huh?”
“Damn. How could you possibly know that?”
“Well, I’m right, aren’t I? I can tell by the tone in your voice when you talk about her. Just be careful. You have enough demons of your own. Don’t take on anyone else’s.”
“My demons are…subsiding.” They both knew what—or who—he was talking about.
“That’s good. I’m really glad to hear that. All right, I’ve gotta go. Just hoping everything was working out. Maybe we can catch one of her concerts when she’s swinging through Europe. We’ll be here for a while.”
“Sure. I’ll send you some dates.”
We. Him and Nell. Kyle still felt the prick, but the sting was not so deadly. Maybe Caressa was helping him as much as he hoped to help her. He hung up with Jeremy and showered and dressed, anxious to see what mood she was in today.
BUT WHEN HE WENT OUT INTO THE MAIN ROOM, ONLY DENISE WAS UP, SITTING QUIETLY OVER COFFEE AND BAGELS. HIS FIRST IMPULSE WAS TO RETREAT AND SHUT THE DOOR AGAIN, BUT HE WASN’T GENERALLY A PUSSY AND HE DIDN’T INTEND TO START ACTING LIKE ONE NOW. INSTEAD HE CROSSED THE ROOM AND JOINED HER, SITTING ACROSS THE TABLE. HER GLANCE WAS NOT A FRIENDLY ONE. KYLE CLEARED HIS THROAT.
“SO…ABOUT YOUR SUGGESTION TO CHARM HER.”
“MR. WINCHELL, I REALLY DON’T WANT TO KNOW.”
“DENISE—”
SHE HELD UP A HAND. “I REALLY DON’T.”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO KEEP PAYING ME IF YOU DON’T WANT TO.”
“OF COURSE WE’LL KEEP PAYING YOU.” DENISE’S LIP CURLED DOWN AT ONE CORNER. “I ONLY HOPE FOR HER SAKE THAT YOU’RE PRACTICING SAFE SEX.”
“I’m pretty responsible that way,” he said with a touch of pique.
“RESPONSIBLE? REALLY?” SHE SOUNDED PEEVED, AND LOOKED DOWN AT HER HANDS. “I WANT TO SAY THAT I’M DISAPPOINTED IN HER. THAT I’M ANGRY WITH YOU, MR. WINCHELL. BUT I FEEL IT’S NOT MY PLACE.”
KYLE LET THOSE WORDS SINK IN, REACHING FOR A SESAME BAGEL AND SMEARING IT WITH STRAWBERRY PRESERVES. “WHY DISAPPOINTED? AND PLEASE CALL ME KYLE, FOR GOD’S SAKE.”
“SHE DID NOT PERFORM AT HER BEST LAST NIGHT.”
“AND YOU BLAME ME?”
“I DON’T KNOW WHO TO BLAME. BUT SHE WASN’T HERSELF.”
“IT WAS THE FIRST NIGHT OF THE TOUR, RIGHT? WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO ALREADY BE AT HER PEAK? SHE’S NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE OPENING NIGHT JITTERS?”
“WELL, OF COURSE SHE CAN. BUT IT WAS THE PREMIERE NIGHT. A LOT OF REVIEWERS ATTENDED.” WITH A FLUSTERED GESTURE, DENISE INDICATED THREE NEWSPAPERS BESIDE HER. “THERE WERE A COUPLE MORE ONLINE.”
“WHAT DID THEY SAY?”
“UNINSPIRED. UNEVEN. ‘NOT HER USUAL LUSTER’. READ THEM YOURSELF.”
KYLE CHEWED SLOWLY, FEELING INEXPLICABLE FURY. “I THOUGHT SHE WAS SPECTACULAR.”
“WELL, YOU KNOW NOTHING—”
“NOTHING ABOUT MUSIC. YES. WHY DON’T WE REITERATE IT ONE MORE TIME? LOOK, HER PERFORMANCE REALLY MOVED ME.”
“I’M NOT SURPRISED, JUDGING BY THE NOISES THAT CAME OUT OF HER ROOM LAST NIGHT,” SHE SAID WITH A SNIFF. “YOU THINK EVERYTHING SHE DOES IS SPECTACULAR. THE MUSIC WORLD DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY.”
KYLE BIT BACK WORDS HE KNEW HE WAS BETTER OFF NOT SAYING IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT, CHOOSING INSTEAD TO POUR A GLASS OF ORANGE JUICE FROM THE ICED CARAFE ON THE TABLE. “SHE CAN’T SEE THOSE,” HE FINALLY SAID, NODDING AT THE PAPERS.
“SHE’LL ASK TO SEE THEM AS SOON AS SHE GETS UP.”
“DON’T SHOW THEM TO HER. TELL HER SHE HAD A ROUGH NIGHT AND SHE NEEDS TO MOVE ON. READING BAD REVIEWS IS ONLY GOING TO AGITATE HER FURTHER.”
“FURTHER THAN YOU ALREADY HAVE?”
KYLE DREW IN A DEEP BREATH AND FIXED THE MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN WITH A LOOK. “LISTEN, AUNT DENISE. IF YOU WANT TO FIRE ME, FEEL FREE. I’M STILL NOT LEAVING. NOT UNLESS SHE ASKS ME TO. SHE NEEDS—”
“Handling. Just like I told you. But this isn’t the type of handling I had in mind.”
Denise lifted her eyes and Kyle turned to see his rumpled lover standing in the door to her bedroom.
“Come and get some breakfast, Caressa,” Denise said.
“I want to see the reviews.”
“No,” Kyle said, at the same time Denise said, “Later.”
“Are they that bad?” Caressa sat at the table beside Kyle and eyed the stack of papers beside her aunt.
“They’re not bad at all. It was the first night of the tour. Let’s not overreact. Have some breakfast,” he said, pouring her some juice.
Caressa sat and looked at her aunt, ignoring the tray of bagels and muffins Kyle slid across to her. “Thanks for hiring him, Aunt Denise. We’ve already fucked three times.”
Kyle choked on the bagel he was chewing and Denise sat up straighter, turning narrowed eyes on Caressa.
“You think you’re shocking me?” her aunt asked. “I heard you—all three times. So thanks for the scoop, but I already knew. And my, don’t you look proud of yourself?”
“Ladies.” Kyle rubbed his eyes and then put his hand on Caressa’s arm. “Listen. I need you to not even look at those reviews. Okay? Tonight is another concert. Have some breakfast, practice for a bit, and then we’re going out.”
“Going out where?”
“Shopping. But we’ll only go on one condition. You do not so much as touch those newspapers. No looking online. In fact, all I want you to do is eat and practice.”
“No sex?” Caressa chirped, smirking at her aunt. Denise glared at her and pushed back from the table, stalking off to her room and slamming the door.
Kyle frowned at Caressa. “Nicely done.”
“I hate when she looks at me that way.”
“Your aunt and I had already discussed…things. She would rather just not know, and you can’t keep poking her with it.”
“Or what?”
“Or it ends. I know you live to find weapons to use against her. I refuse to be one of them. Now eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat. Or I’ll spank you again,” he added with a gleam in his eye.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Caressa said, but she reached for the tray and helped herself to a blueberry muffin.
“You would like it, I know that much,” he muttered under his breath. She chuckled and stared out the window, but he detected a slight blush in her pale cheeks. She would like it all right. She’d love it, the little perv. So many decisions. He’d already made the first one when he’d tackled her yesterday and taken her on the floor. Now he had to decide whether or not to cater to her obvious curiosity about BDSM.
WHAT A JOKE. OF COURSE HE WAS GOING TO CATER TO IT. HE WAS ALREADY IMAGINING VARIOUS SCENARIOS, ALL OF WHICH INCLUDED BONDAGE, PERVERSE HARDWARE, AND GAGS. SHE WOULD DEFINITELY NEED TO BE GAGGED, WITH HIS COCK PREFERABLY, BUT ANYTHING IN A PINCH. THE GIRL HAD A SASS OF A MOUTH, AND A BEDROOM PERSONA TO MATCH. NELL HAD BEEN SO SUBMISSIVE AND PLIABLE WHEN HE’D WATCHED HER WITH JEREMY, AND KYLE HAD ALWAYS CONSIDERED HER THE PINNACLE OF SENSUALITY. BUT CARESSA WAS JUST SEX IN A ROCKET, PRIMED 24/7 AND ABOUT TO GO OFF. DIFFERENT, BUT EQUALLY COMPELLING. PERHAPS MORE COMPELLING, BECAUSE KYLE NEVER KNEW IF HE WAS GOING TO SURVIVE HER NEXT HEAT BLAST.
* * * * *
Kyle took her to a shopping mall, a ritzy outdoor promenade not far from the hotel, and Caressa walked beside him feeling conspicuously out of place. The mall was full of people her age, twenty-somethings in stylish clothes and trendy accessories. She was wearing jeans and a gray tee shirt, and a pair of old tennis shoes. Kyle walked beside her with that stealthy lope of his, looking like someone who’d just stepped out of an issue of GQ. He was wearing jeans and a tee too, but it looked different on him, sexier. He fit right into this crowd of hipster young professionals. The other shoppers jabbered on cell phones and clustered in laughing social groups. Many of them were couples, walking, talking, holding hands. Flirting. Kissing.
She wanted to take Kyle’s hand but she didn’t. Her obvious dork cachet would sully his golden-California-boy aura. Lots of women looked at him, and then looked at her. She could read the look on their faces. How did she snag hotness like that? She started to lag behind but then he took her hand and pulled her up to walk beside him.
Near the end of the promenade, he pulled her into a shop. She looked around and heat rushed to her face. It was a lingerie place, and the employees all looked like damn supermodels. A girl straightening rows of panties looked up and smiled at Kyle, impossibly vixenish and gorgeous. Caressa narrowed her eyes at her and turned away in the direction of the door.
“I’M NOT INTO THIS,” SHE MUTTERED.
HE PULLED HER BACK. “YOU SAID, AND I QUOTE, ‘MY BRA IS TOTALLY UNSEXY’.”
“YEAH, I WANT TO BE UNSEXY.”
“NO YOU DON’T. COME ON, LET’S JUST LOOK AROUND.”
CARESSA SNORTED, SHOOTING ANOTHER UNPLEASANT GLARE AT THE GIRL BEHIND THE COUNTER WHO APPEARED TO BE MENTALLY UNDRESSING KYLE WITH HER HEAVILY-MADE-UP EYES. “THIS IS SO STUPID AND TACKY. ‘OH, I JUST FUCKED YOU. ALLOW ME TO BUY YOU SOME SEXY PANTIES AND BRAS’.”
“I’M NOT BUYING YOU ANYTHING. YOU’RE PICKING SOME THINGS OUT FOR YOURSELF. WHAT DO YOU LIKE? WHAT DO YOU WANT TO HAVE ON NEXT TIME I PULL YOUR SHIRT UP OVER YOUR HEAD AND START FONDLING YOUR BREASTS?” HE SAID THE LAST PART QUIETLY, NEXT TO HER EAR, AND SHE SHIVERED A LITTLE. THEN SHE STEPPED AWAY FROM HIM AGAIN.
“I’M NOT THE SEX KITTEN TYPE.”
“I DON’T DOUBT IT. BUT YOU’RE NOT A GRANDMA EITHER. YOUR BRAS AND PANTIES HAVE TO GO.” HE LEANED BACK AGAINST A FAUX-FINISHED GOLD LEAF COLUMN AND GESTURED AROUND THE BOUTIQUE. “LOOK AROUND. TAKE YOUR TIME. BUY WHAT YOU LIKE. YOU’VE MADE PLENTY OF MONEY IN THE LAST FEW YEARS, CARESSA.”
SHE WOULD HAVE REFUSED, BUT SOMETHING IN THE LAST COMMENT STRUCK HER. SHE HAD MADE A LOT OF MONEY, AND SHE’D WORKED HARD FOR ALL OF IT. WHY WAS SHE WEARING BORING DEPARTMENT STORE UNDERWEAR THAT EMBARRASSED HER? BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO SOCIAL LIFE AND NO ONE TO WEAR SOMETHING NICE FOR ANYWAY. WELL…UNTIL NOW.
She flicked a glance at Kyle and moved away from him, running her fingers over the panties and bras displayed on shelves and racks. Some of it was quite nice…soft shimmery satin, with tiny details like lace and bows. She stopped at a simple ivory bra with a row of impossibly tiny buttons down the front. It was plain but it was…fine. Delicate. One of the salesgirls spoke beside her, making her jump with her loud, abrasive voice. “Would you like me to start a fitting room for you?”
CARESSA STARED AT HER. SHE’D NEVER SHOPPED IN A BOUTIQUE LIKE THIS. KYLE ANSWERED WHEN SHE DIDN’T. “YES.”
“WHAT SIZE ARE YOU?” THE GIRL CONTINUED, STARING OPENLY AT CARESSA’S BREASTS. “34B? 32C?”
“UM…”
“LET’S GO MEASURE YOU.”
THE GIRL HAD CARESSA BY THE ARM, STEERING HER TO THE BACK OF THE SHOP SO QUICKLY THAT ALL CARESSA COULD DO
WAS THROW A PANICKED LOOK BACK AT KYLE. HE SMILED AND NODDED. GOD, DID HE JUST WINK AT HER? THE GIRL PULLED HER INTO THE CHANGING AREA, INTO A CRAMPED, CURTAINED ROOM. SHE WAITED EXPECTANTLY FOR CARESSA TO…WHAT? UNDRESS? SHE WAS SHORTER THAN CARESSA, PETITE WITH BLONDE HAIR AND WIDE BLUE EYES PERFECTLY LINED WITH EYELINER.
“IT’S EASIER TO MEASURE IF YOU UNDRESS FIRST. THEN WE’LL KNOW WHAT SIZE TO GRAB,” SHE SUGGESTED PERKILY.
“OH, OKAY.”
CARESSA TOOK OFF HER SHIRT AND AGAIN FELT A DEEP PANG OF EMBARRASSMENT AT HER PEDESTRIAN COTTON BRA. SHE DID LOOK LIKE A GRANDMA. SHE TOOK IT OFF WITH AS MUCH BRAVADO AS SHE COULD MUSTER AND WAITED WHILE THE SALESGIRL WHIPPED A NARROW TAPE MEASURE AROUND HER CHEST. “MY NAME’S BRIDGET, BY THE WAY.”
“HI, BRIDGET,” CARESSA SAID. HER VOICE CRACKED ON THE LAST SYLLABLE AS BRIDGET MATTER-OF-FACTLY LAID THE TAPE RIGHT OVER HER NIPPLES.
“LOOKS LIKE A 32C TO ME. SO…IS THAT GUY YOUR BOYFRIEND? HE’S YUMMY.”
“OH, UM. NO. JUST A FRIEND. HE ACTUALLY WORKS FOR ME,” CARESSA SAID DRYLY. SHE WAS AN ACCOMPLISHED MUSICIAN AFTER ALL, AND SHE’D PROBABLY MADE MORE AS A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD THAN THIS GIRL WAS MAKING SLINGING BRAS AND PANTIES AS AN ADULT.
BUT BRIDGET JUST SAID, “OH,” IN THAT PERKY, CHEERY VOICE OF HERS AND LEFT CARESSA TO DRESS AGAIN. WHEN SHE WAS DECENT, SHE WENT BACK OUT INTO THE STORE AND PICKED OUT A FEW MORE BRAS SHE LIKED. NOTHING TOO FRILLY, BUT NICE CLASSIC COLORS WITH SUBTLE DETAILS. A SKY BLUE BRA WITH A BLACK VELVET BOW THAT ENTHRALLED HER. A BEIGE ONE IN A SORT OF RETRO STYLE WITH BLACK AND WHITE LACE. AS SHE CHOSE THEM, BRIDGET PULLED OUT MATCHING PANTIES. KYLE WAS STILL ACROSS THE STORE, CHATTING WITH THE OTHER SHOP GIRLS WHO WERE THROWING THEMSELVES AT HIM IN A DISGUSTINGLY DESPERATE WAY. FINE. LET HIM FLIRT WITH THEM. BETTER THAN HAVING HIM WATCH HER WITH THAT DISSECTING GAZE.
FINALLY SHE DUCKED BACK INTO THE CHANGING ROOM AND TRIED THE FIT ON THE UNDERGARMENTS. MOST OF THE SETS SHE’D CHOSEN SUITED HER PERFECTLY. THEY WERE SO MUCH MORE WELL-DESIGNED AND FLATTERING THAN HER CHEAP, PLAIN COTTON CRAP. SHE ENDED UP NOT BEING ABLE TO PART WITH ANY OF IT. GOD, SO MUCH MONEY. SHE RAN A FINGERTIP OVER A TINY EDGING OF IVORY LACE. SHE DIDN’T CARE.
Caressa’s Knees Page 7
