by B. B. Hamel
I’ve always been this way. It got worse after the explosion, but I was like this before that, too. Always worried, always trying to stay one step ahead of my problem. I don’t know how many times I thought I’d gotten myself out of trouble, figured out a way to get them off my back, but they always came back. They always wanted more, no matter what I did, and it took me too long to figure out that it would never be enough.
I pull out an old photo book from the bookcase next to my desk. I flip through it, smiling at the pictures from the start of Reid Lumber. Most of them are Polaroids, since they were still making those back then and I didn’t trust digital cameras. Those were good days, good early days, trying to build something for myself.
Reid Lumber took off for a few reasons. First, I hired a bunch of geeky IT guys to try and use computers to run my shipping. I’m something of a luddite, but I’m smart enough to know that’s the future. The software they came up with revolutionized our shipping logistics, making us efficient and streamlined.
Next, I aggressively lobbied state and local government for beneficial grants and land rights. I charmed my way through city hall and all the way up through congress, bribing people that needed a bribe and making promises to those that didn’t, until Reid Lumber ended up with some of the best government subsidies and land rights in the whole damn country.
Finally, I paid my workers well and I treated them right. That may seem counterintuitive from a business prospective, but the money we saved on logistics went right into the pockets of my employees, making them hard-working and loyal. When we had to push to make a big order, that order was always filled on time and perfectly. My people are the best people, and I made sure to compensate them fairly for their work. Logging can be a dangerous job, and I always made sure they were taken care of.
At least, up until they weren’t.
I shut the photo book and put it away. All of that stuff is public knowledge, which is why Mia’s not asking about it. I’m sure she’s well aware of all that great shit Reid Lumber did. But who cares about any of that when there’s a mystery to be solved.
I sigh to myself. I shouldn’t get angry with her. It’s not her fault Murray assigned her this story. I should have just turned him down when he suggested it to me, but I thought it might be a way of clearing my conscience, or at least a way to help my company out. I still care about Reid, and it’s still a prospering business, despite the fact that I’ve all but abandoned them. Just one more reason to feel angry with myself.
“Busy in here?”
I look up, surprised. Mia smiles at me, her hair wet, a towel in her hand. She’s wearing an old t-shirt and some sweats, rolled at the waist. She looks fucking sexy, although I’m sure she doesn’t realize it. My heart starts beating fast in my chest.
“Just killing time,” I say.
“Lots of time to kill on this mountain, I bet.” She makes a little face. “What do you do for fun, anyway?”
I grin at her. “I’m glad you asked.”
I get up and lead her back up to the third floor. She follows me into my movie room where I hit a switch. Suddenly the whole far wall opens up slowly, sliding apart to reveal hundreds of DVDs.
“Holy crap,” she says. “Is that a secret compartment?”
“Yep,” I say. “Cool, right?”
“Really cool.” She laughs as she walks over. “But it’s hiding DVDs.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She grins at me. “What year do you live in? People don’t have DVDs anymore.”
“I do,” I say proudly.
“Of course you do,” she murmurs as she goes through my collection. “Have you seen all these?”
“Mostly,” I admit. “There are some I haven’t seen yet. I just keep buying them. Hopefully I never catch up.”
She makes a face and pulls out one. I walk up to her and look over her shoulder. She’s looking at Home Alone 2.
“One of the best sequels ever made,” I say.
“I don’t get how they lost him a second time.”
“It stretches believability,” I admit.
“Stretches? I’m pretty sure it tears believability to shreds.” She puts the DVD back and I laugh to myself.
“Okay then, since you’re such a cinema snob. What’s your favorite movie?”
She looks thoughtful. “Tough question.”
“I know, but you’re a journalist. You appreciate the tough questions.”
“Okay. I know.” She grins at me. “The Goonies.”
I groan. “Seriously?”
“Yes! Have you ever seen the deleted octopus scene on YouTube? It’s amazing!”
“I’ve seen it,” I admit. “It’s good, but it’s not even top ten for me.”
“Okay then, what’s yours?”
“Gates of Heaven,” I say.
“Is that the one with Johnny Depp?”
“No, that’s The Ninth Gate. Also a great gate movie.”
She laughs and shakes her head, going through my collection some more. “So this is it, huh? You sit around in the middle of nowhere, watching movies?”
I grunt at her. “No, I do other stuff.”
She looks at me with a little sly smile. “Like what?”
“I go for hikes,” I say, leaning up against one of the chairs. “I take Jones out and we play fetch. I go online, watch TV, collect records. I go into town twice a week.”
“Sounds exciting,” she says flatly.
“Hey, it’s just regular person stuff. What did you expect?”
“Champagne and caviar,” she says.
“None of that here. I’m a mountain man, remember?”
“More like reclusive billionaire, but I get your point.” She steps away from my movie collection and crosses her arms. “Listen, let’s be frank, okay?”
I grin at her. “Okay then.”
“I’m stuck here for a week, right? I’m going to go out of my mind with boredom if I have nothing to do.”
“What do you want me to do about that?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Keep me entertained.”
I can’t help but grin at her. “I have some ideas.”
She realizes her mistake. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, no, way too late. I’m thinking shower, hot tub, kitchen, bedroom, in that order. How’s that sound?”
“I’m afraid to ask, but for what?”
“For places to get you off.” I grin and stand up, moving toward her.
She backs away. “That’s not what I meant,” she says, but she’s blushing furiously.
“Isn’t it?” I smirk and she stops as I move even closer. “You know, you’re stuck in here with me, with all the time in the world. We might as well use that time… constructively.”
“I bet you’d like that,” she says softly.
“No. I bet you’d love that.”
She hesitates then shakes her head, moving away from me. “It won’t be that easy, okay, asshole?”
I laugh again, and suddenly I have an idea. “How about we play a game? That’ll keep you entertained, right?”
She hesitates. “What kind of game.”
“Something that’ll give both of us what we want.”
“I’m listening.”
“You need to interview me for this little profile, right? We’ll make a game out of it. You ask me questions, and for every answer I give, you take a piece of clothing off.”
She stares at me a second, blushing like mad. “I don’t think so,” she says.
“Why not? You’ll get what you want, and I’ll get what I want, which is your sexy, perky little ass naked.”
She bites her lip and I realize that she’s actually considering it. Finally, she nods once.
“Fine. I’ll be right back.”
I laugh as she leaves the room quickly. I head back downstairs into the living room. Jones stays up in the movie room, resting on his bed. I sit down on the couch, heart beating quickly with anticipation.<
br />
A few minutes later, she comes downstairs, and I burst out laughing.
She’s grinning her head off and wearing every single piece of clothing that I gave her. She looks like the Michelin Man or a sumo wrestler.
“Now I’m ready to play,” she says.
“No fair.”
“You never specified what I’d have to wear.”
I sigh, grinning like mad. “Okay, fine. Ask your questions then.”
“That’s what I thought.” She waddles over to me and stands in the middle of the living room. The fire crackles behind her, and I can’t help but smile like an idiot, even though I suspect I’m getting myself into something bad.
“First question. What’s your favorite color?”
“Softball, I like it. Blue.”
She nods and takes off a pair of socks. There’s another pair underneath.
“Oh god, this is going to take forever,” I say.
“Don’t complain. Next question. Favorite food?”
“There’s this dish my mom used to make. Gemelli pasta with butter, parmesan cheese, and lemon pepper seasoning. Sometimes she’d add chicken. It’s my comfort food.”
She nods and takes off her second pair of socks. Mercifully, that’s it for the socks.
“Age you lost your virginity?”
“Fifteen.”
“Slut,” she says, grinning. She pulls off a sweatshirt.
“First word?”
“No,” I say.
Another layer comes off. “How many times have you had your heart broken?”
“Once.”
Another layer.
“First job?”
“Cashier at Target.”
Another layer.
“What were you like as a kid?”
“Shy until I started playing sports, and then I wouldn’t shut up.”
She laughs. Another layer.
“Siblings?”
“Older brother, younger sister. I’m not close with either.”
Another layer.
“Do you like to cook?”
“Love it.”
Another layer.
“Favorite thing about starting your business?”
“Overcoming challenges and taking care of my people.”
She nods at that. Another layer.
“What are you passionate about?”
I have to think about that one. “Movies, music, and people.”
She chews her lip but accepts it. Another layer.
At this point, she’s looking less like a sumo wrestler and more like herself, which means she’s down to only a few layers. She looks at her clothes and hesitates a second, clearly trying to come up with a good question to ask.
“What’s your dream for the future?”
I take a breath and let it out. “To make amends.”
She stares at me for a second. “For what?”
I shake my head. “Layer first.”
She sighs, taking off a shirt. “For what?” she repeats.
“The mistakes that I made.”
“What mistakes?”
I grin at her and she groans, taking off a pair of sweats. I think she’s down to just a single shirt and a single pair of sweats.
She arches an eyebrow. “What mistakes?”
I hesitate a second. “One mistake, in particular. One mistake that caused all the others. I made it when I was first starting out, and it’s been haunting me ever since.”
She watches me for a second before slowly pulling off her shirt. She’s wearing nothing but her bra now, and I can feel my cock starting to stir.
“Why are you here?” she asks me, almost a whisper.
“To punish myself,” I say back.
She hesitates. “I don’t think that’s true.”
I look away from her. “And because I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”
I turn back as she slowly takes the last pair of sweatpants off. She stands in front of me, wearing only a pair of black panties and a black bra. Her long, dark hair cascades over her shoulders and my heart’s beating fast as she steps closer.
“Why are you dangerous?” she asks me, stopping just in front of me. I shift, sitting on the edge of the couch, getting even closer to her.
“You don’t want the answer,” I say to her, gently putting my arms around her waist. I kiss her stomach, just above her panties, right under her belly button.
She reaches back and takes off her bra. She tosses it aside as I take her breasts in my hands, cupping them.
“Tell me,” she says.
“People that get close to me tend to get hurt,” I answer, looking up, meeting her gaze. “Do you understand?”
“No,” she says. “I don’t.”
“I can show you,” I say. I kiss her lower, until I’m kissing just above her pussy, my hands cupping her ass.
“Do I want to see?”
“No,” I say. “But it’ll feel good if you let me.”
“God,” she groans as I slowly pull her panties down off her body. I lick her clit as I press one finger inside of her, making her shiver and moan. “Should I be afraid?”
“Yes,” I answer, spreading her legs, and licking her deep and slow.
9
Mia
I shiver as pleasure floods through me.
I feel like I should be afraid. He thinks he’s dangerous, and he thinks that getting close to him is a mistake. I don’t know what he did in the past to get people hurt or what he thinks he has to atone for, and part of me is afraid to find out. But I have to know. I can’t look away from this, even if I wanted to.
Which I really, really don’t. I don’t want to stop as his tongue laps up my pussy. I spread my legs wide as he cups my ass and pulls me closer, finger inside of me, tongue on my clit, pleasure rocking through me.
I run my fingers through his hair, gripping it, moaning loudly. This whole thing just raised more questions than answers, and I should be so frustrated, but I can’t help myself. He feels so fucking good. He knows what he’s doing in a way I’ve never experienced before. He’s so confident, so fucking sexy, and as soon as I agreed to this little game of his, I knew this was what would happen.
I did it anyway. I know this is a mistake. I should stop it, tell him the truth about the baby, get him to tell me what he means about being dangerous, but I can’t. I want this so badly that it almost hurts.
He looks up at me with this smirk on his lips that drives me crazy. He presses two fingers deep inside of my pussy and I toss my head back, gasping, tightening my grip on his hair.
He stands suddenly, fingers still inside of me, and steps around me. He presses me forward, bending me over, fingers sliding out. He slaps my ass hard, making me groan, and he pulls my hair. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my ass.
I look over my shoulder at him as he pulls me up and against him. His hands explore my breasts as his lips find my ear.
“This is the reason you tracked me down,” he whispers. “You can pretend it’s about the story all you want… but I think it’s because you couldn’t stop craving my big, fat cock in your pretty little mouth.”
I groan as he presses his fingers inside of me again. He spins me around, kissing me hard, before pushing me back down onto the couch.
I’m sitting as he takes his briefs off. I take his cock in both of my hands, stroking him, and I take him between my lips. I take him deep into my throat, making him grunt, and I love that noise. I want to hear him grunt, groan, tell me to keep going. His hands are rough in my hair as he presses me deeper, forcing his cock into my throat, and I pull back, gasping for breath. I look up at him, at his handsome smirk, and part of me hates him, but part of me wants him. I’m so confused about how I feel, although the only thing I know for certain is how badly I want him to fuck me right now.
He seems to sense what I need. He pulls me up again, this time by my hair. “Let me see that dripping cunt,” he says, making me gasp. He’s so vulgar, and it’
s driving me crazy. “Spread yourself wide for me.”
He places me on the couch, knees on the cushions and bent over. He stands back, admiring my ass, before he moves forward again, pushing me harder down. I groan as I feel his cock brush up against my soaking pussy, and I gasp as he plunges himself inside of me.
He starts to fuck me, slow and deep. I can feel sweat already starting to drip down my skin as he starts to fuck me faster. I buck my hips back, sliding myself down along his shaft, needing more of him. I need him to fill me so badly it almost hurts.
He’s so fucking hard. His big hands grab my hips as he plunges himself in and out, moving slow then fast and rough, varying his thrusts, pushing and teasing me. He yanks my hair back and kisses my lips, grunting into my mouth as his cock plunges deep inside of me, spreading me out.
He pulls back, sitting down onto the couch, and sliding me on top of him. I straddle his hips and let him press his cock inside of me before I grab onto the cushions on either side of his head and start to ride him fast.
I work my hips, feeling his big cock spreading me wide, filling me. I rock back and forth as he slaps my full ass and teases my breasts with his tongue. I work down, loving the pain and the pleasure that his big hands make me feel, his cock pulling me to pieces. I kiss him full and deep, and he bites my lower lip, making me groan. He presses my shoulders down, filling me up before he kisses me again.
I love the way he pulls my long hair, wrapping it once around his palm. I’m totally controlled by him and we both know it. I’ll do whatever he wants, absolutely anything he wants me to do, all because I’m so desperate for the pleasure he can give me. I didn’t know I could lose myself like this in sex, but clearly he has a power over me that I didn’t know even existed.
I’m practically salivating for him. Every new thrust sends wild shivers of excitement down my spine. I keep wanting more, keep wanting him to push me further and further. I know I can come at any time, but he’s holding me just along the edge, like he can read my body’s every single shudder and movement.
