I slam my hand down on the steering wheel with force and consider my options. I am not a coward. Not many successful lawyers are. If you go into bat for the underdog and want to win, then you gotta grow some balls. I’m not afraid of confrontation. I relish it. Give me a good argument and a subject I can get behind and I’m all over that puppy.
So instead of doing the sane thing, like calling the police or driving straight to the office, I turn the car toward Viaduct Basin and Momoko’s florist store. I know where it is, I looked it up over the weekend, but I’ve never seen it before. As I cruise past the frontage and then do a loop and cruise back again, I watch the SUV that follows twenty metres behind me.
I don’t really take in much detail of Momo’s shop, which is ironic. No, my attention is all on the SUV that follows and the passenger in the front who’s nothing more than a dark shadow, but the flare of light on a camera lens is obvious.
As he takes pictures of me stalking Momoko Tanaka.
Well now, that just creeps me the fuck out, doesn’t it.
Is this her over-protective father? It’s not an ASI SUV, I know their licence plate numbers. And Koki rides a Honda CBR 650. I’m betting Mr Tanaka senior isn’t aware of me yet. Koki hasn’t got that much of a vindictive streak. If he wanted me to back off, he’d say so to my face.
No, this has to be the Triads. Which makes no fucking sense at all. Because if the Triads are after Momoko, then why aren’t they following her?
I drive past her shop again and this time flick a glance toward the front window. Flowers of every colour and hue are displayed in stands, but not like any other florist I’ve ever seen. These ones are in wooden barrels with bamboo hoops circled around them at strategic intervals. They’re very Japanese. Rustic looking, but against the plethora of colourful blooms they look striking.
The entire store looks striking. From the cherry blossom decorations to the shoji style sliding doors, it’s refined and homely all in one.
And it’s popular. It’s not even nine in the morning and Momoko’s store is busy. Viaduct Basin normally doesn’t get going until coffee hour, but there are a number of office blocks nearby, and those inside Momo’s shop are all in business suits. And they’re buying up large.
I smile. Momo’s a successful business owner. I’m almost bursting with pride and desperate to pull over and walk inside that shop and watch her work.
But I eye that damned SUV behind me, the camera still clicking away madly - especially since I’ve slowed down to perve - and scowl instead.
This will not do. Not do at all.
I let out a slow breath of air and abandon my surveillance. The experiment worked, insomuch as it showed increased interest from the trailing Triads. They don’t like me being anywhere near Momoko and I can’t work out why that might be.
Maybe they just want to know if their message left at my house last night has been received. It clearly hasn’t, so they're taking photographic evidence to show their boss, and later today I’m going to find out what that means.
Not if I can fucking help it.
I stop circling Momoko’s block and head back out onto Fanshawe Street. The SUV follows. I could try to lose it on the way, but I have no idea how to achieve that. So, I shrug my shoulders and drive as if I haven’t got a care in the world. Then hit the motorway and floor it.
The Lexus RC 350 F is a performance engineered racing machine. It hugs the corners and flies over the hills. But on the Southern Motorway at nine on a Tuesday morning it is severely hampered. I make it maybe one hundred metres before I hit the early morning rush.
The SUV lumbers up in my rearview mirror and I feel like a chump.
There’s nothing for it, they’ll just have to follow. Maybe they won’t think anything of it, if I park around the back of the building and not underneath in the garage. ASI owns their entire building on Broadway, but the carpark out the back runs along behind several others. It could be assumed I’m visiting one of those.
A long shot, but I don’t know what else to do. I struggle through the morning traffic and take the Gillies Ave offramp. The snarl is just as bad here. Even with spasmodic traffic light changes, the SUV stays on my tail the entire way to Anscombe Securities and Investigations.
The only time I lose sight of it is as I pull into the rear parking area behind the row of buildings on this side of Broadway. No one else is parked back here, but I’m not worried. Eric and Amber would be well aware that I had arrived and someone would be heading to the back door already to meet me.
I don’t get out of the car, though. I wait. I can’t see the SUV anymore, but I’m not keen to stand out in the open, waiting on the door to ASI to unlock. I stare down the narrow driveway, the only way into this parking area, and listen to my blood thunder through my veins.
I just about piss myself when someone knocks on my driver’s side window, hitting the fucking horn in the middle of the steering wheel in my agitation.
Jason Cain raises a single eyebrow at me, but I notice his hand is cupped over the gun at his waist. We stare at each other for a long moment and then he says, muffled through the glass, “It’s all good, my man. You’re safe.”
Chapter 6
Fuck, My Life Is Good
Nick
Fuck. My hands are shaking as I push up Eva’s dress. She’s wearing fuck-me cowgirl boots and a short, short floral skirt that sways when she rolls her hips. That fucking skirt is why she’s currently spread out over my desk, knees up, boots planted on the surface, smirk gracing plump kiss-me lips.
Her cowgirl hat sits beside her and her long, soft chocolate hair spreads out all around her. On the floor is whatever the hell I’d been working on before she walked in the room. She reaches up and unbuttons the uppermost dome on her shirt. It’s white and hugs her tits like a glove. Her cleavage spills out and my eyes dart up to hers.
She grins and runs a finger slowly down through two beautiful mounds of pure heaven.
Then she rips the shirt open in one smooth motion, the dome buttons making little popping sounds that match the pulse roaring through my dick.
“Angel,” I say, my voice rough with desire.
“Yeah, cowboy?”
“I’m gonna fuck you, right here on my desk.”
“Then what are ya waiting for?”
I stand up and slowly undo my belt buckle, my eyes never straying from hers. I could stare at my wife’s eyes all day. Sasha has them. She’s the spitting image of her mother. Her voice is too. Carli can’t sing for shit, she’s all about the sass. But both of them are little angels, just like my Eva.
But I’m not after an angel this morning. I want to fuck my wife.
“Hurry up,” she orders, starting to play with her breasts.
“Cut that out,” I growl. “Those are mine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say, finishing with my belt and pulling the zip of my jeans down.
“Shows how much you know,” Eva teases.
“Angel, I know every inch of this glorious body and I know for a fact those tits are mine.”
She lets out a deep chuckle, all sex and sin and seduction. My cock jerks into my hand and I can’t resist stroking it. I reach forward, one hand still on my dick, the other between her breasts and push her gently back on the desk.
“Arms over your head, baby,” I say. “Grip the edge of the desk.”
She narrows her eyes at me but complies. I can already smell how turned on she is. How desperately she wants this. There’s just something about this fucking desk.
And those fucking fantastic tits.
I lean over and bury my face between them, letting go of my cock to reach up and cup each one beside my head. My thumbs find her nipples and I roll them, then cup and squeeze each breast.
Eva makes a sound, and not the sort of sound I want my wife to make when I’m fondling her.
“You sensitive?” I ask, gentling my touch further. “Period coming?”
“Something like that,
” she says, lifting up her hips and rubbing herself against my cock.
I growl, give her a “stay there” glare, and turn my head to one of her boobs, sucking the nipple gently into my mouth.
Fuck, I could suck on Eva’s tits all day long. I could live between them and never want for anything else.
Her fingers find my hair and she pulls hard.
“Hey!” I exclaim.
She pushes against my scalp, sending my face in the direction of her pussy.
Oh, OK. Hungry for a little something else. I can multi-task. I’m a fucking pro at mutli-tasking.
I kiss across her slightly rounded belly, loving her curves even more because I know they’re there because of our babies. I nuzzle between her thighs, and Eva lets her legs fall outward, giving me more room. I reach up and cup one of her breasts as my tongue licks lightly against her centre. I make sure to keep my touch gentle, Eva’s not unknown for whacking me on the head if I get too frisky and she doesn’t like it.
This time she lets me fondle her tit and, combined with the taste of her, I almost come. A groan escapes me. She makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan, and then I really start eating her.
I thrust two fingers inside and lick in time to the movement. Her nipple is distended, so big it takes nothing to make her jerk beneath my gentle tweaking. She’s breathing faster and faster, she’s wet and rocking her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. In seconds, I make her come and lift my head in time to watch her throw hers back as she mutters, “Oh, God, yes!” several times.
I smile, all cock-sure and full of shit. “Horny, babe?” I say, still stroking her softly through her folds.
Her hand comes down over mine at her tit and stills my movements. I look at her face and try to figure out why. Normally, she’s all over my obsession with her breasts. She knows I can’t get enough of them and gladly lets me get distracted for long minutes giving them the attention they deserve.
Only at that time of the month or if she’s pregnant do I get redirected.
I pause. Try to count back to when she last had her period. And then my eyes snap to hers.
“Angel,” I say. It might be in utter awe or in utter panic. It’s hard to tell. My heart’s beating a mile a minute.
She smiles and suddenly looks a little shy. I reach up and immediately cup her face with both hands, stare into her eyes, searching for the answer. It’s there. In how beautiful she looks. In how she shines, literally lighting up the whole room with it.
“When?” I demanded.
“‘Bout seven months.”
“Fuck,” I say.
She frowns.
“Fuck,” I say again and then kiss her. Throwing everything I can into that kiss that I can’t seem to say aloud.
I fucking love this woman. I love the life we have together. I love the craziness of breakfast with two exuberant pre-schoolers and the peaceful moments when we all fall in a heap on the couch at the end of the day. I love the mess, the chaos, the noise, the singing, the glitter, and the fucking cowgirl hats and boots.
I love it all. And I can’t think of anything better than adding another one.
Especially if it’s a boy and I’m not so outnumbered.
“Angel,” I say against her lips. “I love you.”
I feel her lips spreading into a smile against mine.
“Then show me, cowboy.”
“My pleasure.” I pull back, just slightly, I can’t seem to stop looking into her eyes, and reach down between us to run my thumb over her clit again. She’s still wet. I get lost in the sensation for a moment. Then dip my head down and kiss her softly, slowly, as I bring her to orgasm with my fingers.
Her moan when she comes fills the room, and before she’s come back down, I seat myself deep inside.
“Oh, fuck,” I say, feeling the last of her rippling orgasm wrap around me. “You feel so fucking good, babe.”
“So do you,” she breathes, starting to rock.
Eva likes to take charge. Sometimes I let her. Today, I almost do. She’s just given me the most precious gift and I want to give her something in return. But I’m too wound up. Too fucking impressed with my super sperm to not celebrate. I thrust a few times, give her what she wants, and then I pull out and flip her over.
“Nick!” she complains.
“Not how I want to hear my name, Eva,” I chastise.
“You’ll squash the baby,” she tries. I just laugh.
“Two daughters down and you don’t think I know how this all goes by now?”
“I think you just like taking me from behind,” she snaps back.
“And what a behind,” I say appreciatively and swat at her bare rump. “Let me, babe,” I say more gently. “Please, I need this.”
“Because you’re going to be a father again?” Eva doesn’t believe in making things easy. But that just turns me the fuck on. I don’t answer her. It was rhetorical anyway.
Pulling her back off the edge of the desk with a firm hand to the hip, I stroke down over her arse with the other hand and then find her pussy and thrust a finger inside. She immediately rocks back and moans, letting her head fall forward and her hair hide her face from the room.
“You ready, babe?” I ask, pumping my finger again and again and again.
“Yeah,” she breathes, no argument. I know just how to satisfy my wife.
“You want me filling you up now, Angel?”
“Yes,” she says on a hiss.
I add a second finger and rub my thumb over her clit. Her whole body jerks and she lets out a gasp. But I don’t stop there. No fucking way. I have her exactly where I want her and I’m going to give her exactly what she loves.
I lick my other thumb and then press it between her butt cheeks, letting it slip just inside her arse.
“Nick,” she moans.
“I know, babe. I know.” I fuck her gently with my thumb, while I fuck her harder with my fingers. Her skin begins to glisten under the overhead lights. Her pussy clenches and relaxes as her arsehole matches the rhythm, and I don’t let up until she screams my name and comes all over my hand.
Her body shudders with the force of the release.
I slowly pull my thumb out of her arse, stroke a hand down her back, and position my cock at her entrance. The blood vessels on the side of my dick are swollen, the head shiny with pre-come, the shaft hard as a rock. I stroke it several times as I watch Eva breathing heavily, cheek resting against the desk as if she’s too tired to lift her head.
I press the tip of my cock against her entrance and she smiles. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Eva bent over my desk, arse in the air, cowgirl boots on, pussy weeping for my dick, and she smiles. A totally relaxed, totally blissed out, totally peaceful smile.
This woman is amazing. Truly amazing. And she’s mine.
I lean forward, letting my cock go as it’s resting at just the right spot and angle, and kiss up her back until I reach her neck, and then I sigh.
“I love you, Eva Anscombe,” I say.
“I love you too, Nick Anscombe,” she replies.
And then I thrust forward slowly and settle myself inside.
She moans. I groan. My hands find her tits and she lets me. Maybe because it’s the last time for several months that they’ll be all mine. Or maybe because she’s turned on and just had multi-orgasms and desperate for another.
I don’t disappoint her. She’s never disappointed me.
I make love to her, while she’s draped over my office desk and just before we finish, I withdraw, spin her around again, and sit her on the edge of the desk, encouraging her to wrap her legs around my hips.
I bring us both to completion as we stare into each other’s eyes, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, and my thumbs stroke softly over her belly.
“Fuck,” I say as I come. Fuck, I repeat inside my mind.
Fuck, my life is good.
Chapter 7
It’s Worse
Finn
Jason doesn’t say anything as he leads me down the hallways of ASI. Rounding corners and back tracking, in the rabbit warren that is this building. It’s all been designed with purpose. Fallback positions on top of fallback positions, cut-off points, strategic alcoves for cover. As if Nick Anscombe expects to be invaded at any moment and he intends to hold the upper ground.
Domed covered security camera lenses spy on us as we walk toward Nick’s office. Amber and Eric probably tracking our progress and placing bets with Adam and Charlie about why I might be here.
Nick hasn’t bought any more property lately, so they’d know it’s not for legal advice. And he and Eva sure as hell aren’t gonna get a divorce.
And when Jason knocks on Nick’s door and a muffled reply to “Hold on a minute” comes through the wood, we both know there’s no chance of it ever happening.
Especially when the door opens and a decidedly rumpled looking cowgirl stares out at us from the other side.
“Perfect timing,” she says, slipping her hat on her head and giving Nick a sultry wink over her shoulder. And then she slips past, singing softly to herself in the sweetest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard.
“Finn,” Nick says. “This is a surprise.”
Is it? I don’t often come here, but I have been here before. Many times. Granted it’s usually for a piss-up or something special, like Charlie getting initiated into the fold. But me being here now is a surprise?
I guess it is, really.
I nod my head at Jason, who hesitates, his eyes darting to Nick. They share a look. Fuck knows what that’s about. And then Jason slaps me on the back and retreats. Job done.
I stand there for a moment like a fucking idiot, until Nick finally says, “Have a seat, Drake. I don’t bite.”
I let out a breath of air, shut the door behind me, and walk toward a seat opposite his desk. There’s a whole lot of shit on the floor, papers, pens, stapler, calculator, and I stare at it for a moment and then at the top of the desk. Nick smiles.
Sweet Seduction Sayonara Page 6
