by M. S. Parker
"No." Cutting her off, I shook my head. "No blind dates. I love you dearly, Aunt Blair, and I know you mean well, but I'm so not into the blind date idea ."
She threw her head back and laughed. "Okay, okay. Maybe you're not a brand-new Michelle after all." She leaned over and hugged me. "That's good. Because I absolutely adore you ."
I hugged her back, warm inside. "I love you too ."
"Now, let's talk about the next article you're going to write." She wagged her eyebrows at me, grinning. Delight sparked in her gaze. "Tell me...do you have any ideas ?"
* * *
I t wasn't until I got home that I really let myself start to think about what had transpired earlier. Aunt Blair and I had come home on the subway, which had been enough of a distraction to keep me from thinking about much of anything else. Including Jake...and my feelings for him .
I did have feelings for him .
But I'd rather think about them when I was alone, not while experiencing the New York subway system. And it was an experience. One that a person had to truly...well, experience themselves to understand .
I hadn't gotten lost this time, although that was because of Aunt Blair, I had no doubt. Near the end of the ride, a group of gentlemen all dressed in dressy black slacks, suspenders and black bowlers got up and started singing .
Once we'd disembarked, Aunt Blair told me that wasn't exactly the normal ride, but it did happen .
She also assured me what happened earlier wasn't exactly normal either .
That, in my opinion, was a plus .
I'd give up the snazzy singers in their excellent hats if I didn't have to witness two women getting ready to brawl because one had talked to the sky and the other woman hadn't liked it .
"Typical New Yorkers ignore crazy," Aunt Blair had said with a sniff. "It's what we do ."
She'd been irate that the second woman had been irritated by the woman talking to nothing. In truth, the woman who'd been talking to nothing hadn't been hurting anybody. She'd just been...talking .
And...odorous .
But harmless .
Hell, I often talked to myself too. Just not in public. At least I hoped I didn't .
I'd assured my aunt that I knew all about the rules when it came to ignoring things. After all, I'd lived in the city for years now. I'd learned to ignore plenty .
Now, sitting in the living room of my loft apartment, I studied the subway map without really seeing it .
I was thinking about Jake .
More specifically, I was thinking about Jake and me. Why had he told me about his past? He'd glanced over a great deal, my gut told me, but he hadn't needed to tell me anything. Why had he ?
And why had I told him about my past ?
Because I trusted him, I realized. Because I trusted him, and I'd wanted him to know. I wanted him to understand .
And he had. More, he had cared .
But what did it mean anyway? And what did we have ?
It was more than sex...wasn't it ?
Eighteen
Jake
"T his is what some might call an afternoon delight ."
Michelle sat in front of me, utterly naked, save for the heels I'd found in her closet. I'd found a few other things that were sexy as hell, but I no longer wondered why she tended to shroud herself in black and gray. It was an intent to draw attention away from herself .
I could tell her it didn't work .
With that sweet smile and that beautiful hair, her eyes, she could stand in the shadows of a room surrounded by butterflies and people would notice her – I sure as hell would .
But if it made her feel safer, who was I to take her blanket away ?
What I wanted to do was make her feel secure enough to not need the blanket. And somehow, I'd talked her into sitting down on the couch, wearing nothing but the heels I'd asked her to wear while I fed her a piece of Death by Chocolate from a restaurant that served some of the best desserts in town .
She blushed as I slid the fork between her lips .
"I know what you're thinking," I said, winking at her. "You're thinking an afternoon delight would be if I had you spread out under me while I licked my way down your chest, all the way to your pussy, maybe back up again before I sank my dick inside you ."
Her blush burned even brighter, and I was tempted to say to hell with the game. But while I'd been teaching her all about sex and sexuality, something we hadn't done enough of was play .
I wanted her to know how to play and have fun with sex. With herself and with her lovers. No, lover , a part of me thought, greedy with her. Selfish, even. The thought of her being with somebody else was enough to piss me off which was ridiculous, considering what I did for a living – and how I met Michelle in the first place .
Forcing my thoughts back to the matter at hand, I cut off another piece of the rich, chocolatey dessert and fed it to this gloriously blushing woman. "Don't worry...we're getting to that part." I licked a bit of chocolate from the fork, staring into her eyes as I did so. "See, when you took the first bite of this, you moaned, and I wondered if you would. I've heard people compare this particular dessert to having sex and a few have even said it's better than sex. The way you moaned reminded me of how you sound when I'm inside you. I'm seducing you, even now." Still watching her, I carefully trailed the fork down the slope of her breast. When it reached the tip, I circled the delicate flesh. "I would say you're already wet ."
She squirmed a little on the couch. "Are you trying to embarrass me or just turn me on ?"
Leaning in, I pressed my mouth to her ear. "How turned on are you ?"
She surprised me by turning her face until our mouths almost met. "I'm not sure I can even quantify that ."
"Quantify..." I closed the distance between us and licked her lips, tasting rich chocolate and sweet woman. "How in the hell can you make a word like that sound so fucking sexy ?"
Then I kissed her, pouring all the hunger I felt into it as I blindly reached out and put the plate down .
The dessert was almost gone anyway .
The fork ended up falling to the floor with a clatter that neither of us cared about as I rolled forward, spilling her onto the couch while I settled between her naked thighs .
I still wore my suit .
As she reached for me, I guided one hand to the fly and zipper of my pants. "I want to be inside you...right now. Make it happen, Michelle ."
Her hands shook as she freed me from the trousers. I could feel the tremor, but she didn't pull back right away and cede control to me. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around my cock and stroked me from tip to root and back, over and over .
That wasn't what I wanted, but I'd be damned if I took that away from her .
Sliding a hand up her thigh, I cupped her cunt and pushed one finger inside. A sharp cry ripped from her, her body arching up under mine .
"I love the sounds you make...the way you move," I whispered against her lips. "And I love it when you come ."
Putting the words into action, I pivoted my wrist and added a second finger, working her to a quick, hard climax. Then, before I ended up coming all over her, I caught her wrist and jerked it up over her head, away from me – before I lost it .
Without pause, I thrust deep inside her and slammed my mouth down on hers .
It took...maybe five seconds to realize she wasn't responding .
In fact, she was frozen under me .
Tearing my mouth from hers, I looked down and saw her wide, startled eyes. Tension emanated from her, bordering on fear. And the knuckles of the hand I had pinned over her head were white, bloodless. As if her skin had suddenly become scalding hot, I let go .
"Fuck...fuck, Michelle, I'm sorry." I pulled back .
She shook her head, as if co
ming out of a fugue and reached for me. "No," she said, her voice breathless, nearly soundless. "Don't...please don't leave me ."
The words were broken .
Harsh.
"No." Cupping her face in my hands, I kissed her. The bruising hunger I'd felt earlier had vanished. Now, I felt an ache, a pain that went straight through to my soul, but I couldn't explain that. I could fix this though. Maybe. A little. I kissed her again, soft and slow before murmuring against her lips. "No, I won't leave you ."
Slowly, bit by bit, she relaxed against me, under the soft, gentle kiss, and I shifted on the wide couch, rolling until my back was against the cushions. I couldn't penetrate as deep this way, but that was the whole point – I couldn't pin her down either, couldn't hurt her, scare her .
Don't go there, King , I warned myself .
Rocking against the cradle of her thighs, I slid a hand between us, seeking out the stiff, swollen bud of her clitoris. She was still slick and tight around me, the arousal still there .
I hadn't killed that, at least .
If nothing else, the need was still there .
I held off the climax, almost afraid of what would happen once this ended, using all the skill I'd learned over the years. Fighting my body's instincts and resisting hers, until both of us were shaking, sweating, all but dying for the release .
When it did end, I braced myself for the retreat, for her to jerk away and leave me there on the couch .
But she curled into me, sighed softly...and fell asleep .
Nineteen
Michelle
H eat scorched my cheeks as I wrote the article, but I kept on writing .
The whole idea behind the series was how to keep the heat in a relationship. What Jake had done to me yesterday hadn't brought heat – it had brought an inferno .
Of course, everything he did brought an inferno .
It was a miracle he hadn't burned me up from the inside out .
My hands hesitated, then tripped on the keyboard as memory rushed in. Pulling them away from the keyboard, I reached up and closed my right hand around my left wrist, echoing what he'd done. It had frozen me for a second. Not long, but long enough, because he'd noticed .
I'd just...panicked, maybe ?
I couldn't completely shut those sensory memories off, and for one brief moment, I'd felt somebody else's hand grasping my wrist. I'd felt another hand at my throat and an ugly voice had grunted my name before issuing a threat – nobody will believe you, so keep your mouth shut .
Shaking now, as the memories edged closer, I saved the document and got up, moving over to the window. It was a cold, windy Thursday, the sunlight harsh, oddly bright as it shone down from a sky that was starting to cloud up in the north. Those dark clouds promised a whole hell of a lot of something and the weather guys had been talking snow for a few days. They might be on to something .
Let it snow, then. As long as it didn't keep me from seeing Jake tomorrow .
I needed to see him now, with the echoes of these memories prowling closer .
Nobody will believe you ...
It had gone on for months. Parker's hands on me, his mouth...he'd gone from 'accidentally' bumping into me or having his hand graze my breast, to grabbing me...then groping. The first time he raped me, even though I'd been trying to avoid him for months, had come as such a shock. Some part of me had known he wanted to do it, and I'd tried desperately to avoid him, but he'd realized just what I was doing and went out of his way to find chances to be alone with me .
That was how it happened .
My parents had gone out on a date for their anniversary that first night, and I was home alone. Parker shouldn't have been there, but he claimed he'd left something at the house, then upon realizing I was alone, he felt like he should stay and keep me company .
I'd tried going upstairs and locking myself in my room, but he'd followed me. When I tried to run, he tackled me, and it happened right on the front steps of my home .
For months, I couldn't walk down them without feeling sick .
After I finally told my parents, they renovated the whole damn house and the staircase had been gutted and replaced entirely .
Nobody will believe you .
He'd been wrong .
"My parents believed me," I said softly .
And he'd gotten careless. The last time, he'd grabbed me outside, and I'd screamed. A neighbor kid had heard and come to investigate, then he'd ran and gotten his dad. While his father hauled Parker off of me, the teenager had called the police .
The police, thanks to witness reports, had no choice but to believe me. He hadn't done much time in jail, but he'd done time .
And Jake had believed me .
"You didn't win, you miserable son of a bitch," I whispered to the void, staring outside .
There was no answer, but the ache in my chest eased. Turning back to the desk, I debated. Taking a couple of breaths, I forced myself to go sit down and get back to work .
The bastard hadn't won, and I was tired of acting like he had .
* * *
"A fternoon delights, hmm?"
Aunt Blair read the article on her iPad, her brows arching up ever so slightly from time to time .
My face was on fire .
I could feel it .
I didn't know why I hadn't just emailed it to her instead of coming down here to her office to visit. It wasn't like I hadn't ever been here. I came in once or twice a year anyway, but never just to see what she thought of an assignment .
I was too...nervous for that sort of thing .
Or at least I was. Normally .
Today, though, I had to get out of the house. After the little trip down nightmare lane, then thinking about the upcoming date with Jake after how awkward I'd made things, staying inside my apartment had just been too much .
I hadn't exactly expected Jake's little trip over to my place to inspire an article, but once I made myself sit back down and write, I'd fallen into the zone and finished in a frenzy .
Then I'd had to take a cold shower, and after that, I'd locked myself in my room and cried for twenty minutes. The emotional roller coaster, more than anything else, had driven me out of my loft .
"What are you thinking about, sweetheart ?"
The sound of Aunt Blair's voice jerked me out of my reverie, and I whipped my head around, staring at her .
"What?" I asked blankly .
"You looked so distant," she said, waving a hand at me. "I just told you the article was fabulous, and you didn't even hear me. You look like you're on another planet entirely. What are you thinking about? This mysterious man of yours? Your next article ?"
"Ah..." I had no idea how she'd guessed about a man. "Um...the next article, of course ."
It was a lie .
I had no idea what I might write about next. Apparently, she wanted more, but since she mentioned it, that gave me a distraction and a way to get her to focus on something other than a man – which I needed because I didn't want her thinking about Jake or anything like that .
Not that she knew it was Jake, but if she asked too many questions, I might blab and –
Distract her ! the voice of reason screamed .
"So, I assume you want more articles?" I blurted out, my voice too high and too fast. I knew I hadn't successfully distracted her. The narrow-eyed look she gave me told me that, in spades .
But she gave a slight shrug, apparently deciding to let it go before answering me. "Yes, we definitely want more, sweetheart. What else do you plan to write out ?"
"Ah...well..." Hmmm. How in the hell did I answer that? "I've got ideas, but I'm a little superstitious about discussing them until I've hammered out the details," I lied glibly .
That, at least, she seemed to believe .
* * *
"A winter storm
warning is in effect..." the voice of the weatherman droned on as my phone chimed, announcing the delivery of a text .
I read it in nervous anticipation, because for the past twenty minutes or so, Jake and I had been teasing each other back and forth – something so new and novel that just thinking about it made me giddy .
So...you never did answer me. What are you wearing ?
The texting had given me an idea, and I thought maybe I'd try my hand at an article about the titillation that could come via naughty texts. Not that I planned on writing an entire article about sexting, because after having had the real thing with Jake, no sexts would count, but there was something to be said for anticipation .
Tapping out my reply, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at my decidedly un-sexy ensemble .
Pajamas and a pair of slippers. It's COLD, Jake. Too cold for sexy .
A thought I'd just had was bubbling in the back of my mind, trying to turn into an idea, and it distracted me enough that several minutes passed before I realized he'd replied almost immediately. Actually, several replies. One right after the other .
It's never too cold for sexy .
Not when it's you .
You heat up the world .
My face warmed, and I dismissed the immediate thought that he probably flirted with all women like this. If he did, I didn't want to know. If he didn't, well...awesome .
His next reply came up before I could figure out how to respond .
Are we still on for tomorrow ?
The weatherman's droning voice had me glancing at the TV .
I answered back .
As long as I don't end up snowed in before morning. The way these guys are talking, we're having another Snowmaggedeon or something. You'd think it never snowed in New York .
He sent me back a laughing emoji, and my heart flipped a little in my chest. One thing was for certain...whether Jake felt it or not, I was getting in deep. It wasn't sex anymore. Or at least, it wasn't just sex .
