‘I’m aware of that. I wouldn’t dare go anywhere with this unless I know why he’s paying her rent and why she’s still married to Eaton. The last thing I want is to expose him as even more of an angel when it turns out Sophie is dying or something and Chris is staying married to her for the health plan while his lover makes sure she doesn’t live in poverty. Hell, even their whole relationship is just conjecture at this point, but at least now I know there’s something.’ He was getting so charged he could taste the anticipation, sweet as cola and thick as cherry syrup. ‘There’s something underneath that cover-boy smile. I know it. Everyone has something they’d kill to keep secret.’
‘You don’t.’
‘That’s because I already had them exposed, twice.’
He mirrored her pose, and the tilt of one brow amused her no end. If Grace hadn’t been the woman who had infiltrated his dearest friend’s sanctuary, Simon probably would have found her forgettable like most of the women he met, yet because she had done the impossible she held a certain fascination for him, and he knew she felt the same way about him as Jacques’s lone confident.
From out of nowhere, he wondered whether he would ever have someone like Grace – not exactly like Grace, but that enigma she represented, some unstoppable force that fixed him just by being in his life.
He tried to push the thought away, but Miranda’s presence crept to the forefront of his mind.
Of course, it would be Miranda. The dizzying rush of terror and excitement that came upon him when he thought about her remained, but with it came a settling, an acceptance. His Miranda, who could push him down and sink her teeth into him, who challenged him with a flash of those blue-green eyes before going into a near-spiritual ecstasy when he pushed back at her.
For a moment he forgot all about Grace, even her curious expression in front of him, until she loudly cleared her throat.
‘I’ll email you what I have on Murray and leave you to it, and if he comes back at our polite but firm refusal, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thanks.’ As an afterthought, he leaned forward and tapped his finger against the desktop. ‘How is he doing?’
‘Tinkering. One of the geeks taught him how to build a computer and so it’s become his project to build the most awesome computer that ever was.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘He wasn’t always like this, was he?’
‘He gets it from his grandfather. Edgar Taureau’s old house was a junkyard full of old televisions and radios he fixed up. Being a fuckwit in his younger years kept it at bay, but I think you can look forward to many years of watching your man try and put things together.’
‘Interesting. I wonder what being a fuckwit in your youth has kept you from.’
He poised his finger over the ESC button. ‘Good night, Miss Neely.’
‘Keep in touch, Reeve.’
As soon as he disconnected, Simon got up and headed for the kitchen. He felt like he had rubber on the bottom of his feet, his excitement putting a spring in every step, and he grinned to himself as he poured a glass of juice.
Up until now, the mere thought of Matthew Murray had had him grinding his teeth and tugging the hair at the back of his head. Three weeks and he hadn’t been able to find anything off about the guy.
Now he had something, and more.
Now they knew Roe had employed him, and they knew why. Even without the media attention earlier in the year, Simon was still known in political circles. One of the dirtier aspects of working for Jacques had been acting on behalf of the late Dominic Taureau, for whom everyone outside his immediate circle was considered a threat to the party, the same party Roe hoped to lead. Even if Murray was some country bumpkin, the grinning Andy Griffith of Southern New Brunswick, there would be someone in his circle who would tell him that having Simon Reeve digging around was a red flag.
Was this contact with TAJ Surveillance a threat? A message to back off?
Simon wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t wait to find out. He was going to New Brunswick. Whatever the message was, he was going to send one right back. He was going to do what he did best: he was going to be a pain in someone’s ass.
He took his drink back to his office, intending to shoot Roe an email about his intent to visit Murray’s territory, but before his ass hit the leather seat his landline rang and made him jump.
Hearing the ring was a first: anyone who called him did so on the cell, and so the only real purpose of the cordless phones set about the apartment was to answer the buzzer downstairs, and he’d never had so much as a canvasser ring him for a donation.
The caller ID confirmed that it was the front door, but when he answered there was a moment’s silence.
Then, ‘Hi, it’s Miranda.’
He felt short of breath, something that was common in the moments before he knew he’d see her. Before he could greet her, she went on in a rush.
‘I know I said tonight was out, but I got a last-minute reprieve and thought I’d surprise you. Can I come up?’
‘Yes, absolutely, please, just give me a couple of seconds.’ he babbled, by now in the kitchen where he’d left himself a note about which button on the phone to press to disarm the door.
After punching 9, he raced to the bathroom and checked for crumbs or globs on his face, then was struck with the worry that 9 had actually been 6 and he’d left her standing in the lobby waiting for him to buzz her up.
He opened the door and headed for the elevator, and when the elevator doors opened he nearly walked into her in his haste to get on. Miranda yelped and Simon jumped.
‘God, you scared the shit out of me!’ she scolded.
‘Sorry.’ He stretched out his arm, prompting her to lead the way because he wanted a good look at her.
She was cute as hell, as usual, in a denim jacket that barely touched her waist and with her hair twisted into a complex knot at the back of her head. She wore a tiny green and white skirt that brushed the middle of her thighs and, combined with the wedges she wore, made her legs look fantastic.
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth as his palms itched with the urge to get closer so that he could run them along the backs of her thighs and discover what she was wearing under that skirt.
‘What’s in the bag?’ he asked once they were inside, gesturing at the cloth shopping bag slung over her shoulder.
Miranda hugged it closer to her chest and gave him an impish look. ‘It’s a surprise, for later. Now …’
She stood on her toes and tilted her head back, and fluttering those thick lashes she closed her eyes. Simon lowered his head and kissed her, a slow and gentle nibbling, long enough to get her guard down, then he wrenched the bag from her.
‘Hey!’
He held the bag up and away, and kept her in place with an arm cinched around her waist. He shut down her protests quickly by backing her against the door and pinning her with his leg wedged between hers. He meant business with his next kiss, pushing his mouth against hers until she met his challenge, parting her lips and letting him into the silky heat of her mouth. She tasted like cinnamon gum. It filled his mouth as he invited her tongue with his, and the mysterious bag was forgotten as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
It killed him to break away, and he did so with a groan and released her. ‘I thought tonight was off the schedule.’
‘I did some sweet talking and got myself a reprieve,’ she said, giving him the most fuckable look he could imagine, and Simon’s resolve to be a gentleman and at least let her take off her jacket before he went for the rest of her clothes was challenged by the rush of blood to his dick.
She pushed away from the door and brushed past him, reclaiming her bag in a quick movement and laughing in triumph as she moved into the living room.
‘I was sitting at home thinking to myself, “Poor Simon, what will he do without me tonight? Sure, he could probably put on some sweet jazz, light some candles and spend some quality time with his right hand, but it would be just cruel of me to let that hap
pen.” And so, here I am.’
‘Shows what you know, I had plans to host an orgy tonight. You walked in just as I was about to confirm the address with the Greater Halifax Swingers Society.’
‘The housewives and husbands who pay their dues will just have to find someone else to swing with.’ She held the bag up in front of her and swung it back and forth. ‘I’m putting this on neutral territory. No peeking until I’m ready for you to have a look.’
He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at her. ‘You might have to give me something to peek at to keep my interests from straying.’
Miranda dropped the bag on the coffee table, then turned around and lifted the edge of her skirt to show off the ruffled floral panties she wore. ‘Good enough?’
He swiped his hand over his face. He was going to start to sweat it soon, and his cock was quickly winning the war against what was left of that chivalry he kept nattering about.
Out of nowhere, Simon was reminded of the task he had been up to before her arrival and stammered his way to a full sentence. ‘Just give me three minutes to send an email, and then I’m all yours.’
‘You were working, weren’t you? And I just showed up like this. I’m sorry –’
‘No, don’t,’ he said as she reached for the bag, and laughed as he shook his head. ‘I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend the evening with you. Three minutes. Five, tops. You know your way around, make yourself at home.’
He returned to the office and typed so fast the email was nothing but a mess of red lines from the spelling mistakes he made. He scowled at the screen as he reread the email to Roe. His concentration was absolutely shot with his woman moving about outside his office.
He finally sent off something that didn’t read like it was written by a chimpanzee and headed back to the living room. His bare feet skidded on the laminate at the sight of her sitting on the sofa.
‘Oh,’ he said, and felt light-headed. ‘Oh, hell.’
* * *
‘I was worried five minutes wasn’t long enough to set the scene, but you’d be surprised what you can get accomplished in five minutes,’ she said, thrilled to her toes by the transformation in Simon.
It was like in the movies when the man in the suit sprouted hair and clawed at his clothing as the beast inside came out, except that Simon’s transformation at the sight of her down to her skivvies was far more beautiful. The sarcasm that never seemed to leave his face flaked away and left only the unrestrained, from the flaring of nostrils and slight curl of his lip, so she could see his tongue pressing against his front teeth, to the bunching of shoulders and fingers curling into fists.
She crossed one bare leg over another and leaned forward, then swept her arm over the coffee table where she had laid out the contents of her bag.
‘I popped down to Gentleman’s Choice before I came here. I had no idea this stuff was so inexpensive,’ she told him, and picked up the crop. ‘This was a steal. The lube cost more than this did. I almost passed on this. It looks like it would give the type of sting that would just piss me off, but then I figured I’d trust you with it and see if you can get creative.’
Simon’s gaze darted this way and that, like his brain fired much too fast and he couldn’t figure out what to give his attention to: the woman in her underwear or her toys.
Miranda grasped the end of the crop and tugged on it, and as it snapped back Simon swiped his hand down his face.
She wondered if the excitement that was showing on his fiery cheeks and poking against the front of his pants was laced with the same nervous fizz she felt in her blood, or if he was merely waiting for her to finish her presentation so he could get his hands on her and her collection.
‘I was going for a bit of a theme,’ she said as she moved on to the tiny city of lubes and lotions. ‘I have a weakness for raspberry, as you know, and I know you like chocolate, so I went with one of each. The rest came from the girl at the store and her stash of free samples. You know, since we used the last sampler pack I got my hands on.’
She fell silent as he came forward and stood over the coffee table, his attention upon the last item.
‘That wasn’t a steal.’
Miranda bit her bottom lip as he picked up the purple paddle and excitement flooded through her. Once the fluttering in her chest stopped, she breathed deeply through her nose and shook her head. ‘I had a commission from last month and the payment went through just in time, so I decided to treat myself. It’s prettier than yours, don’t you think?’
‘Very,’ he said, running his hand across the faux-fur surface.
When Miranda had picked up the paddle in the store, it had given her a chuckle. It was like the end result of a Care Bear massacre, like something Juliet would pick up on Etsy because it looked cool.
She could scarcely draw a breath as he flexed his fist around the handle. He turned it upside down, then tested it out on the smooth underside of his forearm. If he rendered a verdict, he kept it to himself as he set it back down.
‘Is that it?’ he asked.
‘I was on a budget.’ Her attempt at sarcasm fell flat as each word shakily dropped from her lips. She curled her hands around her knees as she clipped them together. ‘So, that’s what was in the bag.’
‘Very nice, but you missed one of the most important staples of what you have in mind.’
‘What did I miss?’
‘Think about it.’
In an instant it seemed so obvious. She returned his smile. ‘Cuffs?’
Simon pursed his lips as he shook his head. ‘Close. On a saucy drama queen like you, we’re talking rope.’
‘And you just happen to have rope stashed away for an occasion like this?’
‘Well, a man can never know when some cupcake in a pair of frilly drawers is going to show up at his door looking for a slap and tickle.’
She made a poor attempt to give him the innocent Bambi eyes, but she couldn’t hold it, and so she cackled and got to her feet. He opened his arms and welcomed her, cupping her ass and lifting her against his hard body.
‘There’s one thing that’s still a mystery,’ he muttered. ‘Which one of us is getting a red ass tonight?’
‘The one in the frilly drawers, to start,’ she said, determined. She’d thought about it all the way to the toyshop. She was ready to at least be on the receiving end tonight.
He gave the ruffles around her ass a tug and grinned. ‘You’re gorgeous tonight. You’re always gorgeous, but tonight you’re a knockout.’
She wriggled until she escaped his grip, then turned so that the hump of her ass pressed against his erection. ‘Are you sorry you didn’t get to unwrap me yourself?’
‘You’ve left me enough to work with. For instance, these are going to look better shoved to your knees than in a heap on the floor.’ He rested his hand on her shoulders and nuzzled into her hair. ‘I have you for the whole night, don’t I?’
Miranda rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Where do you want me?’
‘Right here for now,’ he murmured, and released her. He dropped onto the sofa and pulled her to him, then arranged her until she knelt over his lap with her back to him.
‘Why do I feel like this is a trick?’ she asked breathlessly as he rubbed her between her thighs.
‘How so?’
‘Giving me those soft hands when I know what’s coming?’
Miranda followed the guidance of his free hand. She pushed up onto her knees and held her pose while he unzipped and pulled his cock out. She looked down as he pushed her forward, touching the tongue to the roof of her mouth at the sight of that beautiful cock nestling against the ruffles.
‘You can tell me to stop whenever,’ he said softly, pushing his fingers through her panties, through the seam of her cunt. ‘Or you can tell me to give you more. It’s entirely up to you.’
‘I feel kind of like a virgin,’ she joked, and flattened her hands on the sofa between their outstretched legs. ‘Like, I
know it’s going to hurt, but I just don’t know how much.’
‘Don’t think about it right now,’ he urged. He found her clit through the fabric and stroked back and forth, back and forth. ‘Just be quiet,’ he said, lowering his voice, ‘and let me get you excited.’
She was already excited, but she wouldn’t complain as long as the friction of his fingers through her panties felt so good.
‘Have you masturbated much since we’ve met?’ The answer was no and she told him so, prompting a laugh. ‘Why do you sound so surprised when you say it?’
‘It’s something I made time to do twice a week,’ she confessed. ‘I mean, really, I would look at my schedule and think, “Juliet is getting up early on Wednesday to get her hair done, so with naptime that’ll give me an hour to myself,” or “I don’t have to get up early on Sunday, so Saturday night I’m going to stay up a little longer and take care of business.”’
‘Do you use your vibrator?’
‘During the week I do, but when I have more time like on the weekend I’ll use my fingers and draw it out.’
Simon withdrew his hand and dragged her panties down over her ass as far as he could, just above mid-thigh. It was good enough. He was able to wedge his whole hand between her legs and curl his fingers into her sex.
‘Do it now,’ he urged, moving his fingers to stretch her open. ‘Play with yourself. Let me feel you getting juicy on my fingers.’
His free hand rested upon her thigh, anchoring her as she rubbed through her lips. Damp, but little more. She reached lower and met his fingertips, and he gave her some of the moisture he had gathered.
Before her was the display she had created, one beautiful toy after another, all untested. As she circled her clit, as Simon probed her with his middle finger, her pulse picked up. If she looked at those instruments he’d use on her, if she thought about it too much, she’d be overwhelmed in seconds. She closed her eyes.
Without her sight, a thought occurred to her. ‘You could blindfold me, like I did you.’
‘Not a chance. I want your eyes wide open.’
Breaking Through Page 17
