Crimson Sunsets

by Lacee Hightower

  “And this?” he whispered. His voice was deep and low, almost gravelly. He moved his finger gently in and out of my tight hole, piercing through the taut opening as he joined me with soft moans of satisfaction.

  I nodded, loving what he was doing, though I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t.

  “Jesus. I love how wet you get for me. Feel how hard I am, baby.” He ground his hard length up against my back, my hips curving to meet each thrust.

  “What do you want me to do now, Hartley?” His fingers eased out of me and landed against the tip of my clit, rubbing. Circling. Tugging.

  “Oh, Justin… God.”

  “Talk to me, sweet thing. Say what you’re feeling. I like knowing what turns you on. Now look at me and let me see those beautiful eyes while you tell me exactly what you want from me.” Justin held me from behind, the warmth of his breath against my back sending chills all the way through my bones. Calming and seductive all at the same time, my skin coated itself in prickly goosebumps, my breathing nothing but heavy murmurs.

  A finger slid back through my drenched sex, then a second, as his thumb returned to my most private opening. The sound of my arousal filled the room as my body responded. I’d never had a man spend so much time on foreplay. Never been so intimately connected that I wanted to share everything in ways I’d never considered before.

  “Turn around and look at me Hartley. Tell me you want my long cock inside you. Engulfed inside that wet pussy.” He teased me again, rubbing his hard length around my ass and then lower. I was suddenly so wet that I felt self-conscious at the sound his fingers moving in and out of me made through the drenched pool between my legs.

  “Words, Hartley. I need words.” His fingers stopped moving and I lifted my heavy head, awkwardly attempting to turn to the side.

  “Justin… God.” I screamed. “Yes. I want you inside me. Please.”

  In only seconds, he removed his finger and pushed the entire hard wide ridge of his erection through my slick sex, thrusting deep as he grumbled out a moan, forcing me deeper into the mattress with his strength. His arms encircled my waist, hoisting my lower body up as my face dipped further into the dark blue fabric, his body weight strengthening as he started moving inside me, grinding against my hips, the sound of his pleasured grating moans bringing me to the breaking point.

  “Jesus, baby. You feel so good. We feel good.” He inched out in slow motion, taking a long breath and driving back in harder, my breath becoming heavy and more uneven as my eyes slipped shut, my sex muscles clenching with every thrust.

  “Tell me again, Hartley. I love hearing what turns you on.” He was deep, thrusting his thick shaft inside me, his hands all over me as he forced me further and further to the edge, so much that my body began shaking. I was so full. God, he was deep. And I was utterly powerless. I never wanted the feeling to end.

  “Hartley. Your eyes. Look at me.” I forced my heavy lids open at his demand, the awkwardness of turning my head to the side uncomfortable, but entirely inconsequential.

  “This. Umm … just like that. Hard,” I whispered into the side of the pillow.

  He was so deep, so long and incredibly thick. Every thrust felt like he was shredding me, but I was so starved for him. I’d never had these feelings during sex. In the past, I always worked for my orgasms.

  My breath was becoming more of a pant listening to his soft groans become steady, vibrating against my shoulders as his body slid against mine with the light sweat that covered the both of us.

  He dropped a finger and tugged at my clit.

  “Harder,” I whispered.

  “Shit, baby. You’re so fucking sexy.” The need in his voice created such a deep desire to please him. I’d never wanted to pleasure a man on such a level.

  In.

  Out.

  Back in.

  Deeper.

  Harder.

  He was ruthless and pitiless against my tender sex, hovering over my back as he watched every thrust of our equally moving bodies. My stomach was tingling, my clit aching. My thighs shook as I arched into him with all the strength I had left as the most wonderful orgasm flooded my body, setting off millions of shooting stars, along with emotional tears.

  “Jesus, Hartley,” he hissed. His voice cracked as his fingers molded into my sides, his breathing low and deep. He twisted and strained, feeling longer and wider as he spilled inside me, uttering my name once, and then again.

  “Sweet Jesus.” He slid out of me and rolled us both over, pulling me against his chest and nestling me against him as I felt the slight movement of his thighs shudder.

  “Good morning,” he whispered against my ear.

  “Yes, it is.” Completely content, my hand reached for his solid abdomen, brushing over the strong muscles that flexed underneath my touch. His eyes cut through mine as he tentatively lowered his torso down my body, spreading my legs apart and leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I was dripping with warm ejaculate, but he didn’t seem to care. My body shivered as I squirmed underneath him, pulling my fingers against the sides of his head and opening my knees wider, shamelessly anxious for his where his lips were headed.

  “Justin, you’re leaking out of me. Are you sure about this?” My body spent and sore, I was nevertheless greedy for what he was about to do. Still ravenous for his warm tongue to purge through my sex while his expressive eyes gazed into mine, it didn’t matter that he’d just been inside me. I wanted more touching, kissing—making love—or whatever this was.

  “Sure?” he groaned, his tongue trailing lazily over my tender skin. “What I’m sure about is tasting the woman I love,” he murmured against my swollen mound.

  “I can always stop.” Sucking my firm peak between his lips, my legs froze as I gripped the sides of his hair even more desperately. “That’s what I thought.”

  “How do you do this to me?” I whispered.

  “I love you. That’s how.” He drove deeper and deeper inside me, his thumb softly circling my clit as I tried unsuccessfully to suppress my cries. So sensitive from the incredible orgasm I’d just had, still this urgency between us was unstoppable. He was making love to me with his mouth … and his eyes. God, his beautiful eyes.

  Did he tell me he loved me?

  My heavy lids closed as my hips bucked against his glorious mouth, launching into orgasm yet again, the muscles of my sex clenching as he lifted me even higher against his mouth, sealing his lips over me and licking me to perfection through the ecstatic place I was visiting.

  Finally, he eased his lips from my drenched sex, running his mouth slowly up my inner thighs and belly. My eyes were heavy. Tired, they slipped shut.

  “Sleep now, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing my eyelid.

  In a sleepy haze, “Okay,” I whispered groggily, slipping my feet underneath my favorite place—his warm toned legs.

  “God, I love you so much,” he uttered against my neck as I dropped back off into a content slumber.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Justin

  What have I done?

  Noon only minutes away, I still hadn’t bothered with a shower or dressing yet. Hartley left for work hours ago, her intoxicating smell lingering on my unwashed body as I reclined in my favorite chair, staring into the screen of a television I wasn’t even watching. Some cooking shit was on that I could give three fucks about, my thoughts entirely focused on where I’d just been a few short hours ago.

  With Hartley.

  Buried inside her.

  Feeling things I hadn’t ever felt before.

  Confused as fuck.

  I’d had every intention on telling her the truth, but just as always, we ended up far from the depressing discussion that was inevitable.

  I’d been involved the one time, years ago. Even thought I might love her. But this… Everything between Hartley and me was urgent. Desperate. Like we were fighting for some kind of catch-up from the past. Dying for closeness. Afraid to lose each other again. Something I knew I could never sha
re with another woman.

  My bedroom still reeked of sex as I changed into basketball shorts. Too anxious and tense, I needed a good deep workout. Christ. I told this woman I loved her. What the fuck was I thinking? With the speakers blaring Disturbed, I pounded out a brutal sixty-minutes of heavy weights.

  ****

  Today was Friday. Guaranteed to be a busy night, the Mystery Room was booked and Sam was hosting a dinner in the auction hall for a long-time couple who’d been together for five years after meeting at Venture. I really needed to put more thought into opening that second room and maybe even throw around the idea of hiring an assistant for Sam.

  Fuel being imperative to controlling my migraines, it was almost 4:00, the smoothie and omelet I’d had earlier in the day long depleted. I needed some real food. Protein and carbs.

  I spread butter on a thick piece of French bread I picked up at Central Market, and took out the dozen jumbo shrimp I bought at the same time, throwing them in a sauté pan with a little butter, fresh garlic and an ample amount of coarse black pepper and generous pinch of sea salt. Central Market had the freshest seafood in the area and oddly enough, I was a good cook when I actually wanted to be. My phone dinged again with a text.

  I got off early. Are you home? I’m parked outside.

  I texted back and slipped the pipe that I’d smoked a small bowl from earlier, into the corner of the cabinet. I opened the door, her face filled with another fantastic smile. Covered in pure innocent sweetness, her brown eyes were big and glowing, triggering that same urgency again that I thought I put to sleep years ago.

  “Come in, sweet thing.” I cupped her cheeks between my hands, pulling her against me for a kiss. “I’ve got some food cooking. Are you hungry?”

  “Umm. Maybe a little.” She eased into my hand that had moved downward and rested in the small of her back as we walked into the kitchen.

  “Smells good,” she said.

  I smeared a little more butter across the bread. Her arms wrapped around me from behind, resting on my lower stomach while her perfect tits swept across my back. My dick jumped to life. The bread could wait. I couldn’t. My body was abounding with every knowable form of sensation, my cock maniacal to break out and find the safe haven of her warm pussy. But first, her mouth was what I needed. That faint taste of strawberries. I turned around, reaching for her sweet lips and pressing my mouth against hers with a low moan. Our tongues mingled with desperation as I relished in the taste I’d yearned for since the first time, my fingers sliding over her cheeks before moving down and over her perfectly alert breasts.

  “I love you, Hartley,” I whispered into her mouth.

  Jesus Fucking Christ. This made the second time, or fuck maybe even the third, that the foreign words slipped from my mouth. How had this happened? I was crossing into dangerous territory. I swore I wouldn’t fall in love.

  Where was this deep longing even coming from?

  Why couldn’t I shake this shit off?

  Why did I suddenly want the bad?

  The good?

  The whole nine yards.

  Already, in some kind of surpassing record, she’d managed to make off with every part of me that I’d tucked away for another life. Something I considered dormant in my world. Everything was changing. Things I’d had only a dim perception of all these years.

  “I love you too, Justin.” She swiped at her eyes.

  Don’t fucking cry. For the first time in my life, I feel like I could do the same damn thing.

  “Baby, don’t cry.” Her tongue brushed her bottom lip as I wiped the tear from her eye.

  “Here,” she whispered. “Let me finish this up. Why don’t you go dress for work?” I kissed the tip of her pink nose.

  “Thanks, sweet thing. You sure you know how to boil pasta?” I winked, trying to lighten the mood. Searching for any kind of understanding to the foreign words that had just slipped from my mouth … again.

  “Justin?”

  I looked over my shoulder. “Hmm?”

  “I missed you. I hope it’s okay that I just stopped by like this.” She slid the bread into the oven.

  “I’m glad you’re here, baby.”

  Neither of us speaking another word, I left to go get changed.

  Oddly enough, I’d missed her, too.

  Sharing a meal with Hartley Shipman. I was… Shit. I was fucking happy to be here.

  Dressed in black slacks and matching black button-down, she was humming as I walked back through the kitchen door.

  “It’s ready. All we need are plates.” I took two plates from the cabinet and watched her serve up the pasta.

  “Busy night at Venture? You look super hot in all black.” Her eyes widened like they always did when we talked about the club.

  “It’s the weekend. We’re always busy, and I’m entirely happy that a beautiful woman like you finds me hot in any color. You have any plans?”

  She took a long drink from a bottle of water, the smile on her face turning into something stiff and different. I hadn’t seen that look before.

  “My parents are passing through Dallas. They’ll be here sometime in the morning.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Justin

  Some things are never forgotten.

  We were in the IHOP parking lot, easing into an end spot.

  Surprised when Hartley asked me to go with her to meet her parents, I easily agreed. Fuck, I’d never met a woman’s parents before, but she was nervous as hell, so I’d decided to go. Give her the support she seemed to need. She hadn’t said much about either one of them, other than she wasn’t close to her mother and despised her biological father, which was obviously the logic behind her edginess. I could relate to every bit of what she felt. I was stunned to learn she and Jackson didn’t have the same biological father.

  Neither of us had spoken much on the drive here. She was picking at her nails, so I lifted her hand, kissing it.

  “Everything’s going to be fine, baby. It’s just breakfast.” She nodded, exhaling a nervous breath that seemed a mile long.

  Still silent, she only gazed out the window. I was happy as hell I was here for her when she needed me. I loved her. I couldn’t deny the fact any longer.

  “There they are.” Hartley squeezed my hand hard as I helped her from the car. I hated that she wasn’t close to them. I knew just how hard that was.

  The couple stepped out of a black Lexus sedan.

  “Sweetheart.” The woman resembling a near exact older replica of Hartley, reached out, bringing her daughter against her for what appeared a stiff, curt hug, while the gentleman stared down at something on the screen of his phone.

  “This is my mother, Linda. And her husband, James. Mom, James. This is Justin Wisely.”

  “Hi Justin.” Her mother smiled cordially as the man’s head shot up like a rocket at the mention of my name like he’d just been introduced to a reincarnated Elvis.

  My jaw clenched.

  What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?

  Was I having a supernatural moment? A psychotic episode?

  It wasn’t real.

  It couldn’t be real.

  Her husband.

  The clean-cut man raised his head, holding out a hand to shake.

  Her husband.

  I swallowed. Hard. My head swirled trying to figure out if what I was seeing was real.

  It was.

  My chest rocked with rage, my fists balling at my sides. Pain behind my eyes emerged, a million knives stabbing through my sinuses.

  James McDonald.

  You good for nothing pussy.

  Whack. Whack. The second blow to my temple was harder than the first. I felt my teeth shift.

  Come on. Let’s see those tears.

  “It’s so nice to meet you.” Hartley’s mother was trying to make conversation. I could hear the words, yet all I could do was watch the hand that was reaching for mine. The vengefulness covering the face of this ghost.

  “This is your fa
ther?” My molars ground together as the two words came out reeking with venom and malice. What kind of messed up shit show was this? I took a step backward, nearly stumbling onto my ass as I looked into familiar eyes filled with memories of cold nights, empty bellies, and deep, dark dread. My knees began buckling as I strained against the concrete under my feet, my nerves trying their best to unravel.

  Calm the fuck down.

  Calm the fuck down.

  Hartley nodded, totally oblivious to what was happening. My insides burned with an anger even I couldn’t process, the sheer instant craving to choke the life from his miserable body six ways from Sunday, slithering through my spine. Just the sight of him made me want to puke.

  Hartley’s biological father.

  Was this some sort of sick twisted joke?

  “Justin, is everything okay?” Hartley asked, the word ‘okay’ being everything I wasn’t. “You’re scaring me,” she whispered, her hand reaching for my tensing arm as the pieces of the unforeseen puzzle began fitting together.

  “Why don’t we all go in and sit down?” Linda said, her gaze cutting away from Hartley and settling on her husband. Not waiting for a reply from a silent James, she took Hartley’s hand. Seemingly, she had no idea who I was, and whether she did or didn’t, I was convinced she was aware of the complexity of what was happening here, so I had to respect her somewhat for offering to get Hartley away from the whole ugly ordeal.

  “Go on with your mom,” I said, a perplexed look engulfing her face. “Just want to speak privately with your dad a minute.”

  “Let’s go, sweetie,” Linda said, reaching out for Hartley’s hand.

  I gave her a nod, pressing a brief kiss on the top of her head. “Go on, Hartley,” I said with a stern voice she knew meant this wasn’t up for further discussion.

  Completely immobile, I stared at the two of them walking away together to have a nice pancake breakfast, my gut knotting as I waited for them to disappear through the restaurant door.

  Still all fucking smiles. Nice shiny white teeth he damn sure hadn’t had before. Stepping from the expensive ride he couldn’t have possibly paid for, his feet ironically covered in the same exotic gator boots that I owned. And to top it all off, he stood grinning like he’d just cashed in on the motherfucking lottery.