Dirty Sexy Games

by Laurelin Paige

  “I do. But a beautiful woman told me about making sacrifices, so…”

  “I think that’s very noble of you. But even with less work, I don’t think you understand what you’re committing to, going back and forth like that. It’s going to get real old, real fast.” She hesitated, and before I plunged in with a new argument, she continued. “No. This is not the best option for us. I don’t want to be away from you that long. It’s not the best way to start a marriage, either.”

  “You’re not helping me here, honey. You keep shooting down everything I suggest.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to seem so impossible.” She swung around the railing to the steps and sat down on the fourth one up. “I’ve just already thought everything through myself. I’ve been thinking about every option, all day long—why do you think I spent so many hours in the bath? It’s the only thing that’s run through my mind since I found out, and it all comes down to the same thing. There’s really only one good solution—”

  “Do not say that it’s splitting up.”

  “It is an option.” Her gaze crashed into mine, holding it with earnest. “At least, for a while. Until you’ve established a relationship with Sebastian, and I get a better handle on things at Dyson headquarters, it could be—”

  “No,” I said, adamant. “Not even for a little while. Not an option.”

  She chuckled. “Just throwing it out there. Anyway, it wasn’t what I was going to say. I was going to say that the best option would be for me to get a different CEO to run Dyson. My place is up for sale, but we still have your apartment. We can live there. I don’t need to be hands-on with the corporation. It’s gone this long without me. I can let the board run it. Maybe Darrell can even stay in charge? If he’s doing it under my authority, maybe he’ll stop padding his accounts at my expense and pad both of ours.”

  God, I loved her. I loved her so much. It felt like a living thing inside me, this love, the way that it would stretch and poke at me, the way that it would kick and squirm.

  I squatted on the stair below her until I was at her eye level. “There is no possible way to tell you how much it means to me that you would offer that for me. There’s also no way that I’m going to let you do it.”

  “It’s not really giving up anything,” she protested.

  “Elizabeth, everything that you have done since I’ve met you, everything that you have been working for and toward has been to one day get you to the top of that company. There is no way in fucking hell that I am letting you give that up, especially for a child that isn’t even biologically yours.”

  “It doesn’t matter that he isn’t from my womb.” She reached her hand out and cupped my cheek, the spark of her touch sending a jolt through my nervous system. “He’s part of you. That means he’s part of me too. That means I want to be there for him. If you let me.”

  Heat spread through my body, like the sun was out and shining on me instead of the moon. “You undo me, Elizabeth Dyson.” It took me a minute before I could say more. “I’m really very moved by that. I didn’t know it was possible to love you more, but that right there. That would’ve done it. But it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you leave your dreams behind. You’d get resentful. I don’t want to give you a future you resent. That is not what I’m bringing to this marriage.”

  “You don’t know that. I might be perfectly happy. We could have a family of our own, now, too. Instead of waiting, I could get pregnant right away. Maybe this is the universe’s way of saying we should start earlier.”

  I leaned forward and kissed her quick, because having a baby with her was an amazing and beautiful concept, but the timing was so wrong. And I didn’t know how many kisses were left before she realized it, too.

  “As eager as I am to knock you up, Lizzie, I’m not keeping you from France. We are picking another option. End of story.” To further prove that I was done discussing this particular solution, I stood up and scooted past her up the stairs.

  This lifeguard stand had the typical lookout chair at the top, but there was a larger enclosure all around it, with a roof and walls that came up mid-torso. I went to the farthest one and looked out at the island behind. A group of people were seated around a firepit about one hundred feet away, laughing and enjoying their evening. Other than that, the beach was quiet and empty.

  Elizabeth came up behind me, and placed one hand on my arm as she nestled up to my side.

  “It’s beautiful tonight,” she said.

  I turned to look at her profile, studied the way her hair was tossed by the gentle breeze, zeroed in on the spot underneath her ear that I loved to suck on. It was a spot that always made her limp and boneless in my arms.

  I was half hard just staring at this gorgeous woman.

  Who was I kidding? I was fully hard. A heavy lead bar pressed against the linen of my pants. I was busy working out how I could convince her that we were alone enough to fool around when she grabbed my shirt into her fists and pulled me closer.

  “Kiss me,” she said, her voice thick and raspy, the way it got when she was aroused.

  Fuck, yeah. This was exactly what I wanted to be talking about.

  I turned her so that her back was against the wall and trapped her with my hands on either side of her. “Kiss you? Where do you want me to kiss you? Do you want me to kiss you here?”

  I bent down to press my lips along her jaw, and she tilted her head back, granting me access to her neck.

  “Or do you want me to kiss you here?” I bent lower, sucking at the delicate hollow at the bottom of her throat.

  She let out a soft whimper, and my hips pressed against her, my aching cock searching for relief. When the rigid center of my itch rubbed her lower belly, her breath cut sharply.

  Jesus, that only made me harder.

  I reached up and undid the one button on her cardigan and slipped it off her shoulders, leaving it loose on her lower arms. Then I unbuttoned the top few buttons of her dress, peeling down the red fabric until her breasts stood up white and perky in the dim moonlight. Her nipples were furled knots, sharp and steepled. So tight and aroused, and I could imagine her clit plump and swollen, a perfect companion to the two peaks in front of me.

  I leaned in and took one nipple into my mouth, licking my tongue along the tip before sucking the whole of it. “Is that where you want me to kiss you?”

  “Mmm,” she said, barely a response, as if the words were too much effort.

  “Where? Here?” I gave the other nipple the same attention, following it up with a few extra flicks of my tongue against the tender tip. Her knees buckled, and my arms slid around her waist to hold her up.

  “Should I get on my knees to kiss you?” I started trailing kisses down her belly, but she tugged at my collar, pulling me up.

  “I want to kiss you here,” she said, just before her mouth lifted up and closed over mine.

  We kissed. With long, luscious strokes, I licked into her mouth as I palmed her breasts, savoring the gasps of pleasure that formed in the back of her throat. I could taste them. Who knew that sound had a taste? This sound did. A taste of hunger and vulnerability and pure fucking lust mixed with straight-up Elizabeth. That’s what her gasps tasted like.

  Her hands found the bulge imprisoned in my pants. Frantically, she began working at my buckle, magically undoing the belt and the zipper without ever looking down.

  That amazing girl, that goddamn brilliant girl, got my pants undone and my cock free before I’d even lifted her skirt, the skirt I’d been dying to get underneath ever since I first saw her wearing it.

  “You’re in such a hurry,” I said, wanting to slow her down, wanting to hold this moment.

  “I need to. Need this. Hurry.” She massaged my cock in her hand, and there wasn’t a way I could argue with her. What Elizabeth wanted, Elizabeth got.

  Hurrying my pace, I gathered up the bottom of her dress and flung it over the sides of the wall behind her, and found
her pussy bare and glistening. “You’ve been so good to me, baby. Leaving your panties off. Just like I like it.”

  She’d done that so often on our honeymoon trip. She was such a good, perfect wife.

  “Want to make you happy,” she said, tugging mercilessly at my cock with one hand while pulling me nearer with her other at my shoulder.

  “Put your elbows on the wall behind you,” I told her, wanting to gain control.

  With her lips in a slight pout, she did as I ordered. I stepped closer, looking down at her beautiful pussy. Even in the darkness, I could see how wet she was. I took my cock in my hand, and rubbed my crown up and down her folds, splitting her opening so I could see the pink, shining and greedy as it clenched around my tip.

  Fuck, she was a goddamn erotic sight. Her tits plump and primed, her dress pulled down just enough to put them on display, her shoulders back, pushing them forward even more. Her skirt thrown up around her waist and over the wall left everything below her midriff naked and exposed to me. My erection was angry and throbbing now, sliding up and down through the wet arousal of her seams.

  And she was mine. Forever mine.

  It was the first time that I really believed that. The first time I really felt that we were sure. The first time that I was fucking her and feeling like it wasn’t about trying to hold onto her, but about knowing we were going to last. Somehow the vision of a future with this sensual, breathtaking creature made me want to not rush through it, but also made me feel spun up with need I could barely contain.

  I dragged the head of my cock up to her clit once more and circled it, pressing on her nub until I could see her muscles tense. “You have such a good pussy, Lizzie. This pretty, pretty pussy? One day, I’m going to put a baby in here. Would you like that? If I put a baby inside your pretty pussy?”

  “Weston,” she begged, her lids heavy. “Please.”

  Her entire body quivered, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to be inside her.

  Once more, I drew my head back down along her lips until I found her hole, waiting and hot. “Here? Here, Lizzie? This is where I’ll put a baby. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, please. Do it now. Put it in me now.”

  It was sex talk. She was on birth control, and she wanted me inside of her—not the baby, not now—but the idea of it, the knowledge that one day I would… It was overwhelming and intense and so incredibly hot.

  I thrust inside her. Hard. Again. And again.

  “Like that? Right there? Is that where you want me to put the baby?”

  She clenched around me immediately, erupting into an orgasm that appeared fierce and mind-blowing, all the while stuttering over and over again, “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

  “I’m going to. I will. Right there. Your belly will be so round with my kid. Your pussy will be spoiled with my seed.” I told her all this, thrusting into her madly, defining our future, how I would make babies with her, and fuck her, and love her, day after day, night after night. Over and over and over, again and again.

  I came with an explosion, white hot and terrifying. It shot through my body, stiffening every muscle, and I grunted as I ground into her, desperate to spill every last drop of myself into her.

  When I was done, I held her and kissed her and promised her again that everything would be okay. That I would find a way to keep her and the child that I’d made.

  This time, thank God, she didn’t push away.

  13

  Elizabeth

  I’d just gotten off the phone with the movers who were packing up my apartment when there was a knock at the door. Thankful that I’d pulled on yoga pants and a sweatshirt, I headed to the peephole and peered out. I saw who was waiting on the other side of Weston’s door, frowned, then undid the deadbolt and opened the door.

  “Mom,” I said, accepting her hug as her constant companion, Marie, brushed past me, her arms full of takeout. “What are you doing here?”

  “You canceled lunch. So we brought lunch to you.” She shut the door behind her and opened the door to the powder room then closed it, searching for the coat closet.

  “I canceled because I have so much to do.” I opened the correct door for her and held it as she took off her coat.

  “You still need to eat.” She hung up her Donna Karan wool wraparound and turned back to me. “I miss you. You’ve been gone for two weeks.”

  Begrudgingly, I let her hug me again. “What are you going to do when I’m living in another country?”

  Her embrace tightened. “Visit. A lot.” When she pulled away she took my hand in hers and pulled me with her toward the kitchen table. “Come eat. You haven’t had lunch yet, have you?”

  “I haven’t even had breakfast. I just woke up.” Weston and I had only gotten home the night before, and I was still jet-lagged and on Hawaiian time. Somehow, he had dragged himself out of bed and gone to work. I’d had every intention of going to my apartment to direct the movers through packing, but after pushing snooze a good dozen times, I resorted to a phone call.

  What I needed wasn’t food—it was caffeine.

  As if reading my mind, Marie called from the kitchen. “I just put on a pot of coffee. Want some water in the meantime?”

  “No. Thanks. This is great.” I dug into the bags on the table and pulled out a container of fried rice and another that ended up being cashew chicken.

  Marie continued to make herself at home in Weston’s apartment—our apartment?—opening cupboards until she found plates, and delivered them to the table. She set one in front of me and my mother and another one in the third place for herself, then went back to the kitchen for napkins.

  “You got some color,” my mother said, grabbing a pair of chopsticks out of the bag and tossing another pair toward me. “You must have made it out of the bedroom. Tell us about the honeymoon.”

  “Is Hawaii as beautiful as it was ten years ago when I went?” Marie asked.

  My mother pounced on the pause before I could answer. “Who cares about the island? I want to know about the sex.”

  “Mom! I’m not going to tell you about that.” I tossed the chopsticks down and stood, darting to the kitchen to grab a fork. “We were having sex before we got married, anyway.”

  “And I wanted to know about it then, but you wouldn’t tell me. I thought maybe you’d be more divulging after you had a ring on it.”

  “No, Mom. Gross. Hey, how did you get past the doorman?” I wasn’t just trying to change the subject. I actually was curious if I should be concerned about security.

  “I have my ways,” she said, waggling her brows as I took my seat again next to her. “But seriously. The honeymoon was good? The wedding was gorgeous. Everyone bought it as the real deal. It didn’t seem fake at all.”

  “When that boy made his vows…” Marie paused from pouring the coffee to clutch her heart. “I swooned. I swear on my mother’s grave. I actually swooned. I don’t care if it was scripted. I don’t want to know if it was. Because I swooned.”

  “He did a really good job,” my mother concurred.

  And it suddenly occurred to me that there was so much I needed to catch my mother up on.

  I took a bite of chicken, deciding that I needed fuel before I tackled the debriefing. After I swallowed, I dabbed at my mouth with a napkin. “The wedding was good. I think it did what it needed to do. And the honeymoon was also really nice. Both of us had a really nice time.”

  “Really nice time is code for lots and lots of fucking, Marie,” my mother said, exchanging a playful glance with her friend.

  “Mom. Stop.” I could feel my face heating as Marie set a steaming mug in front of me. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to bring me lunch either.” I offered the last statement to my mother since I knew she was behind it.

  “I told you, honey. I missed you!” She smiled fondly at me, studying me too closely, the way mothers do. “You do look good. A little rosy in the cheeks, but otherwise you didn’t get too burned, I s
ee.”

  “I wore lots of sunscreen. And hats. And I stayed in the shade a bunch too.”

  “Good girl. No skin cancer for you.”

  “This is a fabulous apartment,” Marie said from the kitchen where she was cleaning out the sink, likely washing up after Weston’s breakfast.

  “Marie! Don’t do that!” I jumped up and swiped the bowl out of her hand.

  “It was one dish. I was putting it in the washer for you.”

  I squinted at her, doubtful she was going to stop at one dish, as I loaded it into the dishwasher myself. “It is a nice place,” I said with a sigh as I closed the dishwasher door afterward, looking out over the living room where the sun was shining through the giant windows. As much as I’d bitched about the place, I’d grown to love it. The layout was refreshing. The natural light, spectacular. The memories, irreplaceable. “It’s too bad Weston might sell it when we go to France.”

  Weston’s latest plan was to feel out Callie’s interest in moving to another country, despite my hesitancy about wanting his ex anywhere near me, and if that didn’t work, he was set on traveling back and forth, living a week every month in the States. In that scenario, he wanted an apartment in Brooklyn, closer to Sebastian.

  Truthfully, I’d rather have his ex close to me all the time then have Weston alone with her on a regular basis.

  But, really, none of it felt like a long-term solution. Nothing felt figured out. Nothing felt settled.

  “Sell it?” my mother asked from the table, her mouth half-full of spring roll. She finished chewing before she went on. “Won’t Weston want to move back here after the divorce?”

  I wiped my hands on the dish towel and pivoted toward her. “There’s actually probably not going to be a divorce.”

  “Heavens, it was real!” Marie exclaimed behind me.

  “Elizabeth! Are you saying—?” my mother put her hands to her face, a frequent reaction when she was flustered or excited.

  “I’m saying that Weston and I are in love.” It still felt strange to say that. Strange and dizzying and bright. As though there was a secret light switch hidden somewhere inside me and when it was flicked on, it burst forth a megawatt ray of solar brilliance. And all it took to turn it on was to think of how much I loved Weston. To think of how much he loved me.