by M. S. Parker
I pushed myself into a sitting position, grimacing at the way the paint clung to my skin. The sound of running water came from the other end of the loft and the image of Cade came into my head, water washing the paint off of his body, running down over the dips and curves of his muscles.
My stomach clenched with desire. It didn't matter that I'd already come twice or that just one round of fucking was enough to leave me sore the next day. I wanted him again. I ran my hand through my sweaty curls and looked at the bathroom door. I was willing to bet it didn't have a lock on it, and if it did, I doubted Cade used it.
Could I do it? That was the question. Did I have the guts to walk in there, step into the shower and tell him I wanted to fuck him again? And what if I did? How would he take it? Aside from our first kiss, he'd initiated everything between us, taken charge and told me what to do and how to do it. Then again, I reasoned, wasn't the entire point of our teaching sessions for me to learn confidence? For me to be secure enough in who I was to get what I wanted?
I stood up. My knees were a bit shaky still, but my legs stayed under me as I walked across the loft. Doing this completely naked proved how far I'd come in such a short period of time. I reached for the doorknob and told myself that if it was locked, it meant he didn't want me in there with him.
The door opened easily and I slipped inside. The shower was like the rest of the place. A ratty plastic curtain hung on a rod running the length of the tub. It was clear with little swirly designs that did nothing to hide the muted outline of Cade's body. I took a deep breath of the hot, humid air and reached for the curtain.
Cade half-turned as I climbed into the shower behind him and, for once, he didn't even try to hide his surprise. He tilted his head back as he finished turning, letting the last of the shampoo rinse from his hair. My eyes followed the suds down his body and I tried not to let my gaze linger on his tattoo. He'd made it clear that his mom was off limits.
“Decided you wanted to go first after all?” he asked.
I shook my head. Now that I was here, I found I didn't have the words to say why I'd come. I supposed that meant I'd have to show him. I took a step toward him, the warm spray caressing my body and sending rivulets of paint running down me. I reached out and ran my hand over his chest. I felt his breathing hitch as my fingernails scraped across his abs, and then my hand wrapped around his cock and he swallowed hard.
Ronald had been the kind of guy who needed at least eight hours of sleep before he could manage to get it up again, but considering what Cade did and how well he was paid, I had a pretty good feeling he could handle a second time. After just two strokes, I had my answer. I felt him begin to thicken in my hand.
“Not that I'm complaining,” he began. “But what prompted this?”
I looked up, blinking against the water. “One of the things you're trying to teach me is to get what I want, right?” My hand continued its steady up and down movement and he continued to grow.
He nodded.
“Well, this is what I want.” I lightly squeezed his cock.
He made a sound that was very much like a growl and grabbed my upper arms, pushing me back until I was against the cool tile wall. I stared up at him. I had a moment to glimpse a wild expression on his face, a look so foreign it should have frightened me, but then his mouth came down on mine and nothing else mattered.
His body leaned against mine as his tongue pushed past my lips to plunder my mouth. I moaned as my nipples rubbed against his chest and he swallowed the sound. His tongue curled around mine, drawing them both back into his mouth. I dug my fingers into his wet hair as he sucked on my tongue, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. The wet between my legs had nothing to do with the shower.
He was hard against my hip and I knew I had to have him inside me. I hooked my leg around his waist, shifting our position so that his cock was rubbing against my bare pussy. My eyelids fluttered. Fuck that felt amazing.
Cade groaned, his mouth tearing away. He rested his forehead against mine as he grabbed beneath my knee with one hand and reached between us with the other. I braced myself, but even knowing what was coming didn't stop me from wailing as he entered me with one swift thrust. I started to shake as my body tried to adjust. It was too soon after the last time and every nerve ending was still raw. I cried out as he withdrew, then slammed back into me. The base of his cock rubbed against my too-sensitive clit and I whimpered. I was on total overload. Each sensation was too much.
The cold tile on my back and ass.
The water pounding down on us.
The feel of skin against skin as he drove into me.
My eyes opened.
Shit.
“Cade.” I pushed against his chest but he was solid muscle. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him toward me, and said the only thing I could think of. “Yellow! Yellow!”
He instantly froze and looked down at me. “What's wrong?”
I could hear the stress in his voice, but I knew as soon as I told him, he'd understand why I'd stopped. I lowered my leg and he let me go, taking a step back. I watched his eyes flicked down as his bare cock slid out of me.
“Oh, fuck.” He took another step backwards, his eyes wide… disbelieving.
For the first time since I'd met him, there was no mask and I could see how horrified he was to have lost control.
“I'm sorry, Aubree,” he apologized as he struggled to regain his composure.
I shook my head. I wasn't going to let this end. I closed the distance between us and grabbed his cock. His entire body shuddered. “We're not done yet,” I said.
“But I don't have any condoms in here,” he started to protest.
“There are other ways we can finish this.” I smiled up at him as I reached for his hand with my free one. As I moved his hand between my legs, I felt a rush of power. This was what he'd been talking about. This was what it was like to know what I wanted and take it.
As I stroked him, his fingers slid between my folds, finding me slick and open and ready. Two fingers slipped inside as his thumb began to circle my clit. I looked up at him, my breathing quickening as I saw the lust in his eyes.
“What do you want, Aubree?” He spoke in a low voice.
Not second-guessing myself, I leaned forward and ran my tongue over his nipple. He moaned and I smiled against his skin. When I scraped my teeth over it, his cock jerked in my hand and he swore.
“Do that again.” His voice was hoarse.
I nipped at the dark flesh and his breathed whistled from between his teeth. His free hand buried in my hair, holding my head in place. As he pushed a third finger into my pussy, my hand tightened around his cock and he groaned. His dick pulsed in my hand and felt him spurt between us, his warm cum coating my hand. His fingers twisted in my hair, sending a jolt of pain through me as he ground the heel of his hand against my clit.
I cried out as I came, my pussy clamping around his fingers hard enough to make him swear again. The hand in my hair dropped as he wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me up as my climax rolled over and through me.
As we came down, he moved us further under the spray, letting the water wash away everything. When I could finally stand on my own, he released me and then handed me shampoo. We finished showering in silence and while I knew Cade had enjoyed himself, I couldn't help but feel that something about what happened was bothering him. I didn't ask about it though. If it was something I needed to know, he'd tell me. Otherwise, I was going to just keep on with what we were doing. As unconventional as it was, it seemed to be working.
Chapter 9
When Adelle called me Saturday morning and asked if I wanted to come over for brunch, I hadn't been sure it was a good idea. I pushed aside my hurt and remembered I was trying to work past our issues. I didn't agree with how she'd done things, but I could no longer deny that hiring Cade had been a good idea.
Still, things were awkward between us as we ate the crepes and strawberries her chef prepa
red. I'd asked her once, shortly after Morgan had died, why she kept the huge house in Chicago's most affluent neighborhood as well as the entire staff. She'd always told me she felt uncomfortable having people do things for her, and she'd always thought the house too opulent. Her answer had surprised me. She told the staff that if they wanted to look elsewhere, she'd give them a great recommendation, but that she wouldn’t leave any of them without a way to care for themselves and their families. Everyone had stayed and I knew they all thought of each other more like family than employer and employees.
Adelle had a good heart, no matter how her plans screwed up her intentions. It’s part of why we remained such good friends through the years, and I hoped it would be enough to get us past this current obstacle. I was pretty sure it would. Adelle felt horrible about what she'd done and she was doing a great job of keeping her thoughts about my hiring Cade to herself.
“Morgan's step-father called me this morning.” Adelle broke the silence.
“What does he want now?” I asked, grateful for a topic that wouldn't lead back to Cade.
Adelle rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”
Her late husband, Morgan Dane, had lost his father when he'd been a kid. The man his mother had remarried had been a real piece of work. He made Ronald look like a saint. She'd actually caught him hitting on one of the bridesmaids at the reception. Morgan's mother had died when he was fifteen, leaving him in his step-father's custody. The old man had shipped Morgan off to boarding school and hadn't wanted anything to do with his step-son until Morgan had made his first million. When Adelle and Morgan first met, his step-father had been awful, coming on to Adelle to the point where she'd had to file a restraining order. After Morgan's death, when his step-father found out Adelle had gotten everything, he'd started harassing her with everything from legal threats to marriage proposals.
“Which was it this time?” I asked. “Does he want to marry you or sue you?”
Adelle laughed and we fell into the familiar pattern of discussing how cruel fate was to have taken Morgan so young while leaving his asshole step-father to clutter up the world. Right after Morgan's death, it had been an emotional catharsis for Adelle, often ending in her smashing something expensive, but over the last year, it had become more of a thoughtful musing with fond memories mixed in.
By the time we were done eating, the tension between us had eased and I was beginning to feel better about where things were going between us. Maybe it wouldn't take as long as I'd thought to get our friendship back to normal.
“I'll be right back,” Adelle said as she picked up my plate and carried both of our dishes into the kitchen.
Her phone rang before she'd gone more than a couple steps and she quickly tapped the screen to send it to voicemail. She gave me a bright smile and hurried off to the kitchen.
It was nice of her to not want to interrupt our time together, I thought, but the expression on her face had been strange when she'd looked at the phone. My curiosity got the best of me and I reached over to tap on her screen.
Cade.
I frowned. Was there some issue with her paying him? I thought he received his payments up front in case he needed to pay for something for our sessions. Maybe he was scheduling another date for us. I knew it was dangerous to think of our time together as dates, but after the other night, it was hard not to.
“Jocelyn made fresh cinnamon rolls, complete with her famous butter cream icing,” Adelle announced as she came back into the kitchen.
“Is there something wrong with Cade's payments?” I blurted out the question. If Adelle didn't want to pay him anymore, I needed to know. I needed to be prepared to have it end.
Adelle's eyes flicked down to her phone and then back to me. “No, everything's fine.” She sat down across from me and put the plate of delicious-smelling rolls between us. Her smile was tight and it didn't reflect in her eyes. Something was up.
“What's going on?” My eyes narrowed. My trust in Adelle was thin at the moment, so maybe I was reading too much into this, but I didn't think so.
“Nothing,” Adelle said too quickly.
I grabbed her phone, ignoring her protest. If I spoiled some surprise Cade was going to give me, I'd feel bad, but at least I'd know Adelle had been telling the truth. The way she couldn't look at me as I went to her voicemail made me think, however, that I was right. I put it on speaker so she could hear it too.
“Adelle.” Cade's voice was smooth. “I'm just calling to confirm our session for tomorrow night. If there's anything specific you want to use, please bring it with you.”
One look at my best friend's face told me I hadn't misunderstood the message at all. I understood it perfectly. She was still fucking Cade.
Chapter 10
Cade
I looked down at my phone as I ended the call. It was second nature to me now to leave messages like that, reminding clients of sessions, letting them know to bring toys or whatever specific things they wanted to use. I put my phone in my pocket and walked over to the window. I looked out at the city, remembering when the view I'd seen hadn't been so nice. At twenty-seven, I had an expensive condo in one of the nicest neighborhoods in all of Chicago, but I'd only lived here for a couple of years. And the road to get here hadn't been an easy one.
I could still remember the first time I'd booked a client on my own. How nervous I'd been taking that leap. It hadn't been my first time doing what I did, but it had been the first time I'd been the one in charge.
Heather Benedict.
I still remembered her name, everything about her really, down to her peach-colored toenails.
I'd spent nearly a year planning how I was going to break away from the situation I'd been in, how I was going to branch out on my own. I'd saved money, set up a budget and carefully planned everything possible. The one thing I hadn't been able to plan, however, had been client response. If I hadn't been able to find clients on my own, the entire thing would've crashed and burned. And it hadn't been just finding any woman. I'd needed ones I found attractive who'd be willing to pay a fairly steep price. My starting prices had been much lower than they were now, but they'd still been expensive for someone without any backing.
I'd gone into the Ritz-Carlton hotel bar, convinced I'd get thrown out before I could get a seat, and I'd waited there, scouting potential clients. When I'd seen Heather, she'd been sitting by herself, her shoulders hunched as she nursed her drink. I'd approached her, struck up a conversation, and then offered my services. For the first few seconds after I'd said the words, I'd been terrified that she'd laugh or call for security. Instead, she'd slipped a hotel key card into my hand and had told me to wait ten minutes before following.
Looking back, I could see how unsure I'd been, hiding it all behind swagger. I'd spent three hours with her, using everything I'd learned over the previous four years to make her scream, and she'd paid me everything I'd asked. Plus a bit of a bonus. As I'd left her hotel room, I'd felt none of the guilt or disgust that I'd felt before when I'd been with a client. Instead, I'd felt a new kind of freedom, the kind that had come with knowing that I'd regained control of my life. From that moment on, I'd been in charge and I'd never looked back.
I fucked who I wanted to fuck, and I got paid an obscene amount of money to do it. I never had to go through the hassle of dating or even working to get a woman in bed. Instead, they came to me and paid for my time. I never lacked for sex, and I never had to deal with the emotional shit storm that inevitably came from relationships.
I loved my life.
My phone vibrated against my leg. I frowned as I looked down at the screen. Catherine. One of my repeats who I'd had to cut off a few days ago. She'd been getting clingy, talking about leaving her husband for me. I didn't want to talk to her, but I knew her type. If I didn't answer, she'd keep calling.
This was exactly why I made it clear to every client that an emotional attachment meant the end of our business transactions. That was my number one rule.
No one fell in love.
To be continued in Casual Encounter Vol. 3, coming November 24th
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Acknowledgement
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all my Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of my series.
I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.
About The Author
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing. ☺
