Checking It Twice

by Jodi Redford

  White-knuckling the sink, he surrendered to the shame crashing over him. The overhead light flickered. Thinking it was Jana, he quickly straightened and turned off the faucet before glancing toward the doorway. It was empty. He checked the light fixture and noticed one of the bulbs had burnt out. Exhaling, he hit the wall switch and returned to the living room. Jana remained curled on the couch, her dusky lashes closed and soft snores confirming that she was asleep. He watched her for an endless moment, a cacophony of emotions twisting his insides.

  The swelling of his cock mocked him. It didn’t matter that he’d recently come. Or that his raging desire to sink deep inside her couldn’t be acted upon. If he stayed here a second longer, he’d commit another disastrous mistake by making love to her.

  Hands unsteady, he unfolded the blanket stashed near Jana’s feet and gently tucked it around her before crossing to the front entrance and letting himself out. The briskness of the winter night didn’t cut through the feverish heat roasting his skin. He ducked into the Navigator and fumbled to release the top few buttons on his shirt. Clicking his seat belt in place, he shifted into reverse and floored it out of her driveway. Without consciously making the decision, he turned left at the end of her block and headed toward the freeway. He desperately needed to burn this residual hunger for Jana out of his system, and Club Arabesque was his best option to get the job done.

  One of the secrets he kept from Jana was his chosen kink—voyeurism. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t be freaked out by it, but it was a part of his life he preferred not to talk about, mostly because his need to watch others have sex was linked to his twisted, dirtied past. And that was something he didn’t particularly want to get into with anyone. Not even Jana.

  Especially not Jana. Because if she knew the things he’d done…

  Renewed shame and self-disgust roiled in his belly. Determinedly blocking out the taunting memories attempting to barge into his brain, he pulled into the club’s lot. He shut off the engine and climbed from the SUV. After hitting the alarm button on his remote, he pocketed his keys and made his way to the renovated church that now acted as an infamous underground sex club. Arabesque offered precisely the visual raunch-fest his inner voyeur feasted on. It was the perfect diversion to prevent him from doing something as boneheaded as driving back to Jana’s and rocking her motherfucking nonexistent panties off again.

  Inside the club, the throbbing, erotic beat of techno music pulsed around and through him as he made his way toward the stairway leading to the main play area. He gripped the rail and assessed the club members milling on the lower level, scoping the action. The staccato click of approaching high heels drew his scrutiny to a couple walking up the stairs toward him. He’d seen them here before. They were heavy into the exhibitionist scene and were a favorite amongst the voyeurs because of the couple’s sexiness and raw, uninhibited love of public fucking. Despite the fact they offered the kind of kink he craved, he never sought them out. The guy reminded him too much of Nick.

  Even as he stared at the dark-haired stranger, a conflicting host of emotions swamped him, adding several more knots to his stomach. He missed Nick. More than he cared to admit. It’d been nearly five years to the day that he’d walked away from Nick and Heather and what had once been the closest he’d ever come to coexisting in a relationship. It’d been an unconventional one. A disaster in the making. But that hadn’t stopped him from pursuing it to the bitter end. Just one more nail hammered into the coffin of his past.

  The couple paused to kiss, awarding him a brief glimpse of their dueling tongues. A breathless moan fluttered from the woman as her partner caressed her breasts through the clingy fabric of her black mini dress. Her gaze flicked to Kevin, the sultry invitation in her eyes unmistakable. An odd sense of déjà vu crashed into him. He’d seen that same expression countless times adorning Jana’s face—both in reality and in his fantasies. It was practically identical to the one she’d worn earlier when she’d been straddling his lap.

  His attention strayed to the Nick lookalike, who was now sliding his free hand along the woman’s hip, dragging her short skirt upward and revealing a tantalizing peek of curvy thigh and lacy black garter. With the dim lighting and the woman’s blonde hair and her seductive eyes, it was all too easy to pretend he was watching Jana with Nick.

  An unexpected thunderbolt of lust speared low in his groin, stiffening his cock. Jana and Nick. The mere idea should have made him queasy or tempt him into punching the nearest wall. Instead it had him hard as a damn slab of marble.

  If that didn’t verify how truly warped he was, nothing would.

  The man’s fingers slipped beneath the woman’s dress, moving between her thighs. A moment later a gasp sprang from her lips. The Nick lookalike hiked the skirt higher, giving Kevin a clear view of the female’s bare, shaved pussy. The man pumped his fingers, burying them to the knuckles in her pink, moist flesh. “She has the tightest, wettest cunt. Don’t you, baby?”

  Breath hitching, the woman nodded before boldly staring in the direction of Kevin’s groin. He didn’t need to glance down to know he was tenting the fly of his khakis. It disturbed him on a certain level, the realization that he was this turned on by the two people on this planet capable of twisting his insides out. Not the pair standing in front of him, but the individuals he’d mentally substituted them for—Jana and Nick.

  “Care to play with us?” The man continued finger-fucking his partner as he voiced the casual inquiry.

  Kevin swallowed, his mouth a dry wasteland. When he spoke, his voice was far raspier than he cared to admit. “I only watch.”

  A silky smile ghosted over the woman’s lips. “Maybe we can convince you to join in.”

  “Don’t bother. Not my scene.”

  Disappointment tipped the female’s mouth into a pout. “You’ve never—”

  “No.” Liar. “Don’t intend to change my policy anytime soon.” In that respect he was at least telling the truth. He’d engaged in his fair share of threesomes. Probably more than this couple had indulged in. But that was another part of his life that’d stay buried in his murky past.

  The man removed his fingers from his partner’s pussy and slipped them between her lips. She sucked them with a rapturous groan, the sound squeezing around Kevin’s cock like a velvet fist.

  “We’d enjoy it if you watched. Choice is yours.” With his tempting proposition hovering in the air, the man took his partner’s hand and led her up the steps.

  Heart thudding, Kevin eyed their retreating backs. Encouraging this twisted fantasy was a dangerous game. They’re not Jana and Nick. It doesn’t mean anything, you fucking idiot. Despite his desperate reassurances, Kevin’s gut still clenched as he strode after the couple.

  At the top of the stairs, they made a left, heading toward one of the small rooms used for public viewings. Kevin spared the sexually decadent interior of the room the barest glance as he stepped inside. The moment the Nick lookalike started undressing the woman, the pair became Kevin’s sole focus. The slinky dress pooled at the woman’s feet, and her partner helped her step out of the circle of fabric before unclasping her bra. Palming her full breasts, the man lowered his head and swirled his tongue around one puckered areola.

  Sweat crawled down Kevin’s spine as he remembered the feel of Jana’s satin-covered nipple inside his mouth. Although he knew he was only tormenting himself, he replayed those erotic moments when she’d been impaled on his fingers. The feel of her coming had been like nothing he could have imagined. God knows, that memory would be forever implanted in his mind.

  A prickly wave of desire lapping through him, he pictured Jana squirming on his pumping hand. Meanwhile, Nick would be slowly kissing his way down her stomach. Knowing Nick, he’d string the torment out until Jana was a gasping, quivering wreck and begging him to lick her clit while Kevin continued to finger-fuck her.

  Nick could be a tormenting bastard when it came to making a woman beg. His ability to read the female body a
nd know precisely what it took to get her off—or delay her climax—was a skill that’d always fascinated Kevin. Considering his biggest weakness was watching a woman come, sharing a female with Nick had been his personal crack. An addiction that’d been nearly impossible to break.

  The Nick lookalike kicked off his pants and fisted his cock before guiding it between his partner’s lips. Winding her hair tight in his hand, he began fucking her mouth with harsh, guttural groans. The fragile bubble of Kevin’s fantasy popped. The man’s sloppy technique made it impossible to pretend he was nothing more than a poor imitation of Nick and a past that both haunted and tantalized Kevin.

  Under different circumstances, he might have been aroused despite the rather lackluster performance, but all he felt was a familiar hollowness. The excitement he’d experienced seconds ago rapidly faded, along with his erection. The staged scene in front of him no longer holding any appeal, he turned and left the room.

  The emptiness inside him expanded, filling his entire being until nothing remained but a numb void. This was his existence now. Anonymous sex that wasn’t even really sex. Not for him, at least. If Jana knew what was good for her, she’d forget him and find a man who wasn’t damaged beyond repair.

  Chapter Two

  Wiggling her toes, Jana inspected the tiny pink and purple stars decorating her newly buffed and polished toenails. Her expression properly chastising, Lucinda, the nail tech, tapped Jana’s ankle. “Smear my beautiful masterpiece, and I’ll strap you down next time.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  Lucinda rolled her eyes before replacing the top on her bottle of OPI ChicaGo Get a Manicure nail polish and lifting from her seat. “Can I trust you alone for a few minutes?”

  “Of course. I’ll pass the time rearranging your workstation.”

  Lucinda’s eyes narrowed. “Touch my polishes and there will be no place safe enough to hide from my wrath, babeakins.”

  “You’re a sick woman with an unholy obsession with color-coordinating polishes. You need help, Lucinda.”

  “Says the woman who apparently likes to be tied to chairs.” Lucinda wagged her index finger warningly. “I mean it. There’s a flatiron in that drawer over there, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  Lucinda’s statement brought a flush of heat to Jana’s skin. She didn’t know about chairs, but she’d certainly liked being tied up on Kevin’s lap. So much so, she couldn’t wait to do it again. Not that it looked like she’d be getting that opportunity anytime soon. The past three days he’d been avoiding her like crazy, which was driving her nuts.

  While Lucinda strode off, Jana grabbed one of the nearby fashion magazines and flipped it open, hoping it’d distract her from her frustration regarding Kevin. It didn’t. Less than thirty seconds later, she was already bored. She really needed to reiterate the importance of stocking Cosmo to Lucinda. How else were the salon customers supposed to learn fifty moves to blow their lover’s mind in bed, on the couch and the always popular cramped shower stall? Hell, she could easily come up with eighty moves guaranteed to blow a certain hunkalicious chef’s mind…in or out of a cramped shower.

  She immediately backtracked to their erotic encounter on her couch and the bone-melting orgasm he’d given her. She shivered, a deep pull of desire clenching low in her tummy. There was no way in hell she could live the rest of her life never experiencing that level of pleasure with him again. She was done making do with her vibrators, damn it.

  Twitching her nose, she rubbed the spine of the magazine and pondered her predicament. She’d managed to break this far through Kevin’s stubborn resistance. Surely a little more effort would wear him down. Saturday night she’d wear her sexiest dress. Her red strapless satin number always made his eyes bug out, and with any luck, it’d remind him of her naughty-elf costume. Pair it with her skull-and-crossbones fuck-me stilettos, and…he damn well better rock her nonexistent panties off again—this time with his cock buried inside her—or she was giving up the ghost and joining a convent. For the sake and sanity of all nuns, she needed to get laid. That was all there was to it.

  The sound of dogs barking to the tune of “Jingle Bells” erupted from her cellphone, earning her strange looks from the patrons and stylists in the neighboring workstations. Ignoring them and their obvious lack of musical taste, she freed her phone from its clip on her purse and glanced at the caller ID. A familiar jolt of excitement skipped through her when she spotted Nick Pappas’s number. The electrical sizzle was almost immediately counteracted by the rush of guilt that washed over her.

  It was beyond stupid to continuously straddle this tightrope of attraction and guilt where Nick was concerned. For cripes’ sake, she had no reason to beat herself up over the long-distance flirtation that’d slowly evolved between her and the owner of Eros Edibles for the past year. But the truth was she felt massively conflicted every single time her pulse ratcheted in anticipation of Nick’s weekly calls. She’d never been the type of woman to be interested in two men at the same time. Yeah, she’d be a damn liar if she said she hadn’t thought about being with two men at once. God knows she’d shuddered through countless orgasms courtesy of her vibrator and the wicked visual of riding Kevin’s cock while Nick fucked her mouth or ass. It’d taken some creative license on her end, since she had no idea what Nick looked like, but that certainly hadn’t hindered her from coming like crazy. Still, that was only a sexy fantasy, whereas the reality of her blazing mutual attraction for Kevin and Nick wasn’t so simple. Not for a woman who considered herself a one-man woman. Of course, she wasn’t even that. More like a zero-man woman.

  Sucking in a fortifying breath, she punched the talk button. “Hello?”

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  She shivered as Nick’s deep, whiskey-smooth voice caressed her ear. “For all you know, I’m a hideous sea hag. With buck teeth and a sixth toe.” Nick had no clue what she looked like. The one time he’d suggested they video chat, she’d chickened out. Remaining merely voices on a line or words on a computer screen lightened her guilt somewhat. Besides, it was kind of refreshing not to have appearances get in the way of their…well, whatever the hell it was they had.

  “I’m okay with the sixth toe. Just one more for me to suck on.”

  A laugh barked from her, earning more stares from the ladies across the way. Giving them an apologetic shrug, she tucked the phone against her ear. “That’s disgusting.”

  “What?” Mock hurt laced Nick’s tone. “And after I was so understanding about your sixth toe.”

  “I know. I’m such a horrid bitch.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll think of a way for you to make it up to me.”

  The sinfulness in Nick’s voice stirred wicked butterflies in her belly and tingles farther south. Ignoring the pulsing in her clit, she crossed her legs. “How about if I buy a couple pallets of your new Bodylicious line? Will that suffice?”

  His smoky laugh floated through the receiver. “Not what I had in mind, but you strike a hard bargain.”

  “Speaking of your new line, I’m still waiting for the arrival of those samples you promised.”

  “You’ll be getting them. Soon. I even sent along a surprise for you.”

  “Really? What?”

  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “Meanie.”

  He chuckled. “One of these days you’ll have to say that to my face, sweetness.”

  She bit her lip. Enticing as that prospect was, thank goodness it would likely never happen. Bad enough to have these conflicted feelings from afar. Being face-to-face with her boiling-over attraction for Kevin and Nick? She’d be a freakin’ basket case.

  An odd, muted noise sounded in the background of Nick’s line. It reminded her of a garbled speaker. Or a computerized voice speaking through an intercom. “Where are you?”

  “Airport. Soon to be on my way to my hotel. Hopefully. Assuming I can find the baggage claim and my rental car.” A muffled curse shot from Nick. “Damn,
think I took a wrong turn.”

  “Uh, obviously multitasking isn’t your forte. How about you call me later?” God, did I sound too encouraging and hopeful when I suggested that?

  “Will do.”

  After exchanging goodbyes, she clicked off her phone and stared at it for a moment before returning it to its clip on her purse. It was crazy being stuck on two men who were basically unavailable to her. Holy shit balls, what is wrong with me? Why couldn’t she be like normal women who dated men who actually wanted to have sex and not avoid her afterwards? And didn’t live three hundred miles away, like in the case with Nick.

  Heaving a gloomy sigh, she tossed her magazine aside. A weird swishing, crackling sound drew her attention. Swiveling, she spied Missy Peterson walking toward her swathed in one of the salon’s voluminous black smocks. The woman’s head resembled a space satellite with all the tinfoil wraps used to protect her newly applied highlights. Missy stooped over the carefully arranged magazines and pawed through the periodical offerings, her lips pinched in irritation. Or maybe it was chronic constipation. Hard to say with tight-ass Missy.

  Jana drummed her nails on the padded armrest. She figured she was safe from Lucinda’s wrath in that respect, since her fingernails appeared to be dry. “There’s no Cosmo. I already checked.”

  Missy gave a haughty sniff. “That magazine is nothing but tacky smut.”

  “Isn’t it awesome?” Jana gave her grin full rein, knowing it’d only put an extra twist in Missy’s granny panties. Missy had been her self-appointed arch nemesis since the fifth grade. Back then, their antagonistic relationship revolved around Missy’s bossy, look-down-her-perfect-nose-at-everyone personality. These days…yeah, pretty much the same thing.

  Missy picked up an edition of Town & Country. “I hear your little porn shop hasn’t been getting too many customers lately. The economy must be hitting the local pervert population extra hard.”

  “Actually, business couldn’t be better. But now that you mention it, I haven’t seen your brother around lately.”