by CM Deveraux
He floated around the corner where I could no longer see him—teasing me, taunting me. Who was he to tell me I wasn’t leaving only to give me the green light to go a minute later? It wasn’t up to him. It was up to me.
“I don’t like,” I replied, miffed I was even playing into his childish game.
“Come here,” he demanded.
“No.”
“Sasha, come...here.”
As defiant as I wanted to be, desire coursed through my veins. I was drawn to him. There was no escaping it. Not now.
I stepped back into the water but remained standing, the towel still stuck to my body. Sober Sasha wasn’t quite as outgoing and fearless as Drunk Sasha, and right now, Sober Sasha wished she’d had a few drinks first. Gideon stood, waded toward me, yanking the towel from my body and tossing it to the side. I shouldn’t have, but I panicked, shielding my bruises with my hands.
“Look at me,” he said.
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
He caressed my chin with his hand, drawing it upward, toward his face, making me see him, look at him whether I wanted to or not. “You have no reason to feel shame about what that animal put you through. Your scars aren’t flaws. They’re marks of courage, marks of strength. When you allowed me to see you last night, I couldn’t imagine being with a more remarkable woman.”
“You...rejected me,” I said.
“Not because I didn’t want you—because I did. But not like that, not when I couldn’t be sure you wanted me too.”
“You wouldn’t even kiss me earlier. I thought it was because—”
“You’re my client. I shouldn’t like you, and I shouldn’t want you. I can’t help the way I feel, and I won’t deny it. Not anymore. You’ve tormented me, invaded my thoughts since the moment we met. I want you Sasha. I must have you.”
He could take me, devour me if he wanted.
I no longer cared.
Nothing else mattered.
Only him.
I lifted my hands, combed them through his wet beads of hair. He knelt down, coming eye level with my wounds. He traced them with his finger, planting slow, sensual kisses. “I want you, Sasha. All of you. I want you to be mine.”
Words weren’t necessary. He could see my face. He knew I was ready.
He spread his fingers over my breasts, massaging, exploring. His mouth locked over mine, his thumbs applying increased pressure to my taut nipples. The sensation sent pulsating ripples of delight to the one area that begged for it the most. He continued to flick my nipple in one of his hands while reaching under the water with the other, his hands sweeping across my mound. He parted my folds with two fingers, played with my clit, provoked me, as if he wanted to see how much I could handle before I broke, before I begged him for it.
“Do you want me, Sasha?”
“I...yes. Please, Gideon.”
“Tell me.”
“I want you.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you inside me.”
“And I will be...but not yet.”
A single finger entered me, rhythmically pumping in and out, increasing in speed with each thrust.
“More. I want more,” I pleaded.
A second finger joined the first, twisting and swirling its way from the bottom to the top. I flipped my head all the way back, grunted a carnal sound I never knew was possible. As aroused as I was, it wasn’t enough.
“Please...Gideon. I need you inside me.”
He swung his hands around my body, cupping my ass. His mouth still united with mine, he hoisted me out of the water, carried me to the tub’s edge, set me down on top of it. I smacked the button on my left with the palm of my hand. Water sprinkled down over us.
His mouth twisted into a titillated grin. “I see you’ve found your way around.”
I placed my fingers on his erect shaft, wrapping it inside my hand. “You could say that.” He covered my hand with his, guided it up and down until my rhythmic tugging took over. He moaned, the tips of his fingers digging into my back with one hand, while filling me to the core with the other.
He was ready for me.
“You make me feel so good, Sasha.”
“I want to make you come.”
“You first.”
My face must have twisted in more ways than I realized, because his fingers slipped out of me, and before I knew it, everything had halted to a complete stop.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Shit, was it something I’d said? Was he rethinking this?
He flattened his palms on the sides of my face, looked me square in the eye. “Have you ever come before?”
I shrugged, my face hot enough to cause a volcanic eruption.
“Yeah, sure.”
Only I hadn’t. At least, I didn’t think so. Not fully. Damon made a few half-hearted attempts after we married, but he rushed it, smacking my clit with his hand like I was the pony and he was the whip. I may have been too nervous, or he may have been as shitty at getting me off as he was at being a husband. The most I’d ever felt was a slight jitter, a small twinge—not the over-the-top, fully-satisfying explosion Jess received from Richard every night.
Of the handful of men I’d slept with post-Damon, none of them were the least bit interested in my needs. Not a one. Well, maybe “R” since he had offered mutually beneficial pleasure, but in the end, he would have probably stopped just as soon as he got what he came for.
And now...my chance may have just passed.
CHAPTER 18
Gideon backed away from me.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
He reached out, tapped the overhead water off. Candles sparked on, circling the tub and filling the room in a seductive glow.
Maybe we weren’t finished after all.
He returned, smoothed a hand over my chest, pushing my torso back until I was half in the water, half out, my backside pressed against the hard stone behind me.
He spread my legs wide and said, “Close your eyes. Relax.”
I felt his lips on mine. He remained there, nibbling for a moment before licking his way down my body. His fingers awakened me again, brought my womanhood back to life. When he reached my opening, he parted my folds with his fingers, moistening the interior lining with his tongue. I curled my fingers, my nails clawing at the flesh on his back. Even without his tongue, I was wet, my inner juices pooling together, paving the way to my pulsing flesh.
He rolled over my clit with the tip of his tongue, his up and down movements slow and steady. As if his tongue wasn’t enough, he added an element, intermingling the licking with hot, steamy breaths, blasts of hot and cold, a sensation I’d never felt before. His hands cupped my breasts, circling my nipples as his tongue circled my sex.
Gideon took me into his mouth, sucking me slowly, like he was enjoying it just as much as I was. I twitched, my body refusing to be stilled by the spasms growing inside me, desperate to let go. The tips of his fingers twisted my nipples, making me squirm. The more engorged I became, the harder he latched on, the more forceful he became. I filled the room with squeals of desire until I howled, reaching my peak.
This was it.
I was about to come.
I exploded into his mouth like I was experiencing a seizure, gyrating my hips forward with every burst until every last shock wave had filtered all the way through me. It was only after I started to descend that I realized my fingers were tightly wound around his hair, tugging at the roots. He didn’t seem to mind. I let go, reclined back, steadied my breathing.
He kissed his way back to the top, ending with a light kiss on the lips.
“How was it?” he asked.
“As if you don’t know. I never knew it could feel so good.”
The heat in my body cooled, and I shivered, realizing how tepid the water had become. “Can we get out?”
He nodded, held a hand out, lifted me to a standing position. I reached for a towel. He smacked my hand away.
&n
bsp; “We’re not done yet.”
“I never said we were,” I laughed. “I just wanted to—”
“I want you naked.”
I shot a flirty glance his direction. “And I want what I asked for before.”
He grabbed a towel.
“Oh no,” I said. “If I’m naked, so are you.”
The playful grin on his face let me know he had a different intention. He flipped the towel around in his hand, creating a point at the bottom and then whipped it forward, the corner stinging my ass.
Before I could retaliate, he zipped past me, grabbing my hand and leading me into the bedroom. I bit down on my bottom lip, nervously anticipating what might come next.
“How do you want me?” he asked.
I sat on the edge of the bed. He stood in front of me. I grazed his erection with the tips of my fingers, my touch causing his manhood to swell, grow a couple of inches. I rounded my hand around his shaft, feeding it slowly inside my open mouth. As I latched on, pulsing in and out, he stroked my hair, let out a hearty groan.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, Sasha.”
His simple words drove my desire, and I felt myself moisten again. The mental image of his stiff hardness thrusting inside me was almost too much to bear. I wanted to be patient, to take my time like he’d done for me, but I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. Sensing this, he stopped me. I leaned back on the bed, beckoning him to enter me.
“The bed can wait.” He scooped his hands under my ass, hoisting me into the air. I entwined my legs around his, leaned down, pleasuring him with an impassioned kiss. My back smacked against the wall behind me, my body still supported by his weight. I reached for his shaft, guiding it in the right direction. It connected with a single thrust, driving all the way inside me and back out again.
“You feel so good,” I moaned.
“How good?” he taunted.
I whispered my response into his ear. “Harder, Gideon. Faster. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“You keep talking like that, you’re going to make me come.”
I wet the outer edge of his ear with my tongue before sucking the lobe into my mouth.
“Oh, Sasha...don’t stop.”
He thrust harder, using my body to push his way in and out of me. He pulled me away from the wall and then smacked me up against it again.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he begged. “You feel too good.”
I leaned back, gazed into his eyes. “Come then. Come inside me.”
His body stiffened as he drove into me one last time. I felt his release. I leaned forward, grazed his lips with mine. He carried me across the room, gently placing me on the bed before climbing on top of me.
I wanted to stay there, to remain wrapped inside his arms forever.
CHAPTER 19
I woke to a darkened room, felt the space next to me. Gideon was no longer by my side. I called out to him, but he didn’t come. I tried to remain calm, not to worry. He’d probably just went for a glass of water. A late night snack.
When he hadn’t returned after several minutes, I slipped on his shirt and went looking for him. He was inside his office, door slightly ajar, on the phone. He kept his voice down, I guessed so he wouldn’t wake me. I could have eavesdropped or I could have walked away. I didn’t do either. If he truly cared for me as he said he did, there was nothing to hide.
I pushed the door open, and he looked up. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He said, “I need to go,” into the phone then hung up on whoever was on the other end. I felt uneasy, like I had no right to be there, like I’d invaded his personal space.
He didn’t say anything at first, just pushed two fingers across his brow like he was trying to make a decision. About me? About us? I couldn’t leave it. Whatever it was, I had to know.
“Is...everything okay?” I asked.
“No.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
He crossed the room, wrapped me in his arms, kissed me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I get the feeling we need to talk.”
“We do.”
“About...us?”
“About Damon.”
Damon?
“Why?”
“Come,” he stretched his arm out. “Sit down.”
“I’m fine. I don’t want to sit down.”
“Yes, Sasha, you do.”
If it was the only way to get whatever it was out in the open so we could be done with it, so be it. “I’m sitting. What’s going on?”
He sat next to me, folded my hand inside his.
“Damon is dead.”
I ingested the words, but didn’t accept them. “No, he can’t be.”
“You mentioned Damon had friends in high places. What you don’t know is how dangerous these men are.”
I sagged back in the chair, tried to absorb what he was saying. “Continue.”
“When Damon realized what was at stake with this trial, I assume he leaned on those friends, not only for support, but to fix it, find him a way out. When they denied him, my guess is, Damon pushed back.”
“Meaning?”
“Your ex-husband defended Vegas’s “men notorious,” and got them acquitted for their crimes. He knew secrets, their secrets, and when they turned a blind eye, I believe he threatened to expose those secrets.”
“Are you saying he was killed because of it?”
He nodded.
“How—when?” I asked.
“A few hours ago. He was found dead in his jail cell. He’d been stabbed several times in the chest by some kind of blunt object.”
He’d been shanked. How ironic.
“Whoever killed him had his tracks covered,” Gideon continued. “Video surveillance on Damon’s block had been momentarily shut off. They found no murder weapon. The other inmates claim they saw nothing, no one.”
Damon had made one last threat to the wrong person, a person who most likely wouldn’t ever be caught for paying someone off to do his bidding. And Damon had paid the ultimate price.
My face was clammy and wet, eyes stained with tears. “I’m sorry. I have no right to cry over him. Even in death, he doesn’t deserve it—not from me.”
Gideon squeezed my hand. “Don’t be sorry. There are limits to a person’s strength. Even yours. A part of you might hate him now, but another part loved him at one time. You have every right to feel the way you do.”
There would be no trial, no witnesses, no ruling. Court was adjourned, and Damon had received the harshest of sentences. Death.
CHAPTER 20
I sat in an armchair staring at the view out of my floor-to-ceiling living room window. As lives go, I was in complete awe of mine. It had been six months since my first bath time rendezvous with Gideon, the same night I’d found out Damon was killed. And I was finally at peace.
I’d sold Gideon’s home and found him a new one. Correction. I’d found us a new one. My last name was still Price, but I was considering O’Shea. I had a rock the size of my thumb on my engagement finger to prove it.
My girls loved Gideon. I loved Gideon. And he loved them, loved me. It was almost surreal to look back at my marriage to Damon and realize at one time I considered what I felt for him to be love. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t love. Like maybe, at first. Sometimes we think we know what love is, what pleasure is, until something spins our lives around and points another way, shows us we’d been wrong all along, gives us a chance to make it right. Too feel again. To live. And I chose life.
“Sasha, did you hear what I just said?” Jess asked.
“Sorry. What?”
She smiled, flicked a lock of my red hair to the side. (Red. Not black. Yes, I changed it back). “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“It does. I didn’t think I could ever have what you have with Richard. And now look at me. Look at us. You were right. That night at the bar when you were trying to tell me about the schooling you had from...what was her
name again?”
“Veronica Fox.”
“What was it—what you called it?”
“The School of Sex.”
I laughed. “I have to admit, part of me thought you were crazy, all the stuff you were saying about what I needed to do to find the right guy.”
She raised a glass, clinking it together with mine. “And here I thought you hadn’t heard a word I said that night.”
“It’s like a ripple effect. Veronica taught you, you taught me...”
“And now it’s your turn to teach someone else.”
“Who?”
“Believe me, you’ll know. And hopefully we’ll find someone a lot less stubborn than you to work with.”
My front door opened without a knock of any kind, and a distressed Callie flew in, her long, blond hair looking like it hadn’t seen a brush today, which wasn’t like her. Usually she was primped to perfection. She hurled a handbag on the couch and plopped down, crossing her arms in front of her so tight I could have fit her body into a strait jacket. Wet, black mascara had smeared over her eyes, dripped down her face.
“Callie, what’s wrong?” Jess asked. “What happened?”
She didn’t respond at first, which didn’t alarm me. Callie had always been a woman of few words, a quiet introvert waiting to be unleashed. Only, most of the time, she preferred the leash.
“Josh...” Callie started then stopped.
“Josh what?” I asked. “Is Josh okay? Did something happen?”
“Yes, something happened!”
A moment of silence passed between the three of us.
“Are you going to tell us what it is?” I asked.
“He left,” she cried.
“What do you mean he left?” Jess asked.
“He walked out. Left me and the kids.”
“Did he say why?” Jess asked.
“He didn’t say anything. He just packed a bag and walked out. Said he was going to Charles’s house.”
“Charles is...”
“His poker buddy. His single poker buddy. I don’t think he wants to be married to me anymore.”
“I don’t believe it,” Jess said. “If you were saying this about another guy, maybe. But Josh? No. He loves you, Callie.”
