Lie With Me (Decadence After Dark #4)

by M. Never

  “And not having to worry about someone trying to kill me?”

  “Yes.” I laugh. “Something like that.”

  “It is nice to share your company and know my balls are safe at the same time.”

  “Yes, we both know how important your family jewels are.”

  “Someone has to carry on the Carmichael name,” he jests.

  “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I do. Two half-sisters from my mom’s second marriage.”

  “Oh, well, you carry a heavy responsibility then. Do you want kids?”

  CJ makes a conflicted expression. “I haven’t really given it much thought. My business,” he clears his throat, “keeps me pretty busy. I travel a lot and am involved in time-consuming transactions. I don’t know if that kind of lifestyle is conducive to a family.”

  “It sounds like it would be a lot to juggle.”

  He nods in agreement, taking a large swig of wine. Did that question make him uncomfortable? I was just making conversation. He told me I could ask him anything.

  “I didn’t mean to get personal. I know …” I search for the right words. “I know this weekend—”

  “It’s fine, Tara.” He puts his hand over mine. “I don’t have a problem with getting personal.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. It’s part of the reason I wanted to take you out. I enjoy your company as much as I enjoy your body. I just wasn’t prepared to jump into the subject of family right off the bat.” He chuckles, his warm brown eyes catching the light off the hurricane candle.

  “Sorry. I guess the conversation just took a weird turn.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Go ahead. Ask me anything you want. I’m an open book.”

  As confidently as he says that, some little part of me is skeptical about how true that is. No one is an open book. We all have our secrets. Good, bad, and indifferent. But I take the opportunity for what it is and decide I want to get to know CJ better, even if it is just superficial information.

  “What do you do when you’re not working or hiding from Kayne?”

  “I guess that depends on where I am. You pretty much saw my life in Hawaii. Beach, surfing, hanging out. I ski when I have the opportunity, and I just got into rock climbing.”

  “You’re an all-around jock.”

  “I work in an office most of the time. I like to take advantage of the outdoors as much as I can.”

  “I can understand that. I’ve always wanted to learn to snowboard.”

  CJ stays silent, and I know exactly why that is. There are no promises of tomorrow at this dinner; it’s only the here and now. It makes my heart heavy, but I also know that’s just the way it is.

  “My turn,” CJ says just as the oysters are placed on our table. I inspect them. They look appetizing and appalling all at the same time as they sit on a bed of ice and lettuce with lemon wedges and a dollop of horseradish.

  “I don’t know if I can eat one of those.” I crinkle my nose.

  “You definitely can. After you answer my question.” He takes a shell and places it on his plate. “I know you study music.” He picks up a small forkful of horseradish and dabs it on the oyster. “But what are you planning to do with it once you finish school?” He squeezes some lemon onto it next.

  “Um,” I reply distracted as he picks up the oyster and brings it to his mouth. “Teach,” I say. “It’s not my passion, but it will pay the bills.”

  “Sensible,” he answers right before he tips his head back and allows the oyster to slide into his mouth. “What is your passion?”

  “Music is my passion. But there’s not many job opportunities that pay. So, I figured if I can at least teach, I will be still able to enjoy what I love.” I have loved music for as long as I can remember. It’s like I was born with it ingrained in me. My earliest memory is standing on my parents’ bed with an audience of stuffed animals belting out “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

  “Makes sense.” CJ picks up another oyster and repeats the horseradish and lemon routine. “Your turn.” He holds it up to my lips, and I inhale a stinging whiff of the horseradish. I’m not sure I can do this. “Come on, Tara. Be as adventurous outside the bedroom as you are inside.”

  Using my sexual prowess against me is so low.

  I open my mouth.

  “You know oysters are an aphrodisiac,” CJ enlightens me as he feeds me my first ever oyster. “Don’t chew, just swallow. I know you’re good at that.”

  I could smack him, but I am experiencing strange textures and tastes in my mouth at the moment. It’s not horrible. It’s not great either. I swallow quickly and let my taste buds register the new flavors.

  “Not so bad?”

  “Not too bad,” I admit.

  “Try another one?”

  “You first.”

  “You like to watch me use my mouth, huh?”

  I roll my eyes. Maybe a little.

  CJ alternates feeding himself and me until all eight oysters are gone. I enjoy the last one the most, now appreciating the appeal.

  Dinner continues smoothly as we each allow a little more freedom for our personalities to come out. I find out how much CJ loves music and the theater and that he has two bachelor degrees, one in computer technology and another in business. Above all though, I realize how much he can make me laugh. I think it’s what drew me to him in the first place.

  The first time we met had been under such dire circumstances. Ellie was lying in a hospital bed and no one knew if she was going to wake up. My dad was a mess, my mom was a rock, and I was just me, alone trying to figure out exactly what I should do with myself. I think CJ could sense my confusion, for lack of a better word. He was always hanging around the hospital, showing up at the strangest times to check on Kayne and my parents and me. I remember standing outside Ellie’s room completely out of sorts. My sister could die and there was nothing I could do to help. I felt worthless. That’s when CJ showed up. He just seemed to appear with his laid-back energy and inviting smile. He offered to buy me coffee. Suggested I take a walk and get some air. That day, our acquaintanceship grew. He became someone I could lean on. It was purely platonic. An older brother hanging out with his younger sister. It’s where the nickname shortcake came from. He preoccupied me, and I welcomed the distraction. It wasn’t until two years later at Ellie and Kayne’s wedding that our relationship changed. I don’t exactly know how it happened or when. It was just different the second time around. Maybe it was because I was older? Maybe it was because the circumstance that brought us back together was a joyous one. I don’t know. I can just tell you that when I got off the plane and he was there to pick my family and me up for the second time, the attraction was instant. Like two lost souls reconnecting in the dark of night.

  “So …” The easy conversation continues. “If you could pursue your dream career instead of just settling, what would you do?” CJ asks as our dinners are placed in front of us.

  “Be an international pop superstar.”

  “Really?” CJ considers this. “I could see it. You have the hair for it.”

  “At least I have that going for me.” I cut a piece of my salmon and take a taste. Holy crap, it’s delicious.

  “You have more going for you than just your hair, and we both know it.”

  “Maybe.” I shrug, trying to eat as ladylike as possible when all I really want to do is devour this fish like it’s my last meal.

  “Can I hear you sing sometime?”

  I pause with the fork by my mouth.

  “You want to hear me sing?”

  “Sure, why not? Maybe the song you have tattooed on your thigh?”

  “I don’t think I would do it justice, but I’ll sing for you sometime.” I fiddle with the flower in my hair. I’ve sung in front of an audience plenty of times, but singing for CJ gives me riotous butterflies. “And I don’t really want to be an international pop superstar, but performing on Broadway might be fun.”

  �
�Then why don’t you go for it?”

  “A multitude of factors that play into the answer to that. You said having a family is a major commitment. So is being a Broadway performer. Rehearsal and shows would cut into my schooling. It’s not feasible for me right now.”

  “What about when you finish school?” he asks simply.

  “Possibly, but if I get a job right away, which I’m trying to do, Broadway will always be just a dream.”

  CJ drops his fork, looks down at his plate, and frowns.

  “Tara, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I don’t think you should cut yourself short on your dreams.”

  “I’m not. I’m just trying to be mature and levelheaded.”

  “I get that. But sometimes being mature and levelheaded leaves you with regrets in the future. I’m just saying, think about it. I would hate for you to look back at your life and wonder what if.”

  “I don’t know if I am in a position to do that. But I will think about it.”

  “It’s all I can ask. You know what I always say.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Life’s too short not to have sex or eat chocolate cake.” He winks.

  I laugh.

  I’m beginning to believe he’s right.

  I PLAY “STARS” ON MY phone for CJ in the car on the way back to the hotel. He agrees about the soulfulness and understands why the music speaks to me. He gets me. He always has. Since our first conversation, we just clicked.

  “Mr. Carmichael!” The concierge behind the front desk raises his voice to get our attention. “This was left for you.” He waves a white envelope. “The gentleman asked that I personally deliver it to you.”

  “Thank you.” CJ takes it from him, almost warily. He glances around the lobby before taking my hand again and heading to the elevator.

  “Something important?” I inquire.

  CJ turns over the envelope inspecting it several times before opening it.

  “Let’s hope not.”

  It looks like an ordinary invitation to me.

  I examine his face as he pulls it out and reads the white card inside. He scoffs but not in a bad way. In an amused way.

  “What is it?” Now, I’m dying to know.

  “An invitation to an event here in New York.”

  “When?”

  “Tuesday night.”

  “Oh. You’ll be back in Hawaii by then.” I mask the disappointment in my tone.

  “Yes, I will.” He places the card back in the envelope, and then in his pocket before he pulls me flush against him. “But I’m here now, and I plan to make the most of it.” He kisses me firmly and affectionately, waking the arousal that was dormant during dinner. Our tongues tangle until the elevator doors open and we stumble out into the hallway. We can barely keep our hands off each other. As soon as the door to CJ’s hotel room slams closed, he has me pinned against the wall, dragging his tongue up and down my neck, biting my skin until it hurts.

  “What’s your fantasy, Tara?” he asks between fevered kisses. I nibble my lip as CJ sucks on my neck, awaiting my answer. Should I tell him my deepest, darkest fantasy? I have never shared it with anyone. The mere thought of it accelerates my arousal to hyper speed.

  But it really is just that. A wicked fantasy that will never become a reality. It’s too wrong. Too preposterous unless I went looking for that kind of trouble.

  “Well?” he urges. “You going to share, or do I have to torture it out of you?” He tickles my ribcage, knowing I’m the most sensitive there. I squirm, but he’s so much stronger and bigger; there are only two ways to stop him, tell him what he wants to know or kick him in the nuts.

  “Okay!” I surrender, screaming with laughter. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!”

  He stops, letting me catch my breath.

  “You’re so wrong.”

  “I never claimed to be right. Now, tell me. I need to know.”

  “Need?”

  “Yes, need.” He tucks a strand of renegade hair behind my ear.

  I hesitate, wondering if I should tell him the truth or lie to save face. But I figure fuck it; this whole weekend is about fantasy, right? Being autonomous and sexually liberated. I chew on my lip again as CJ waits impatiently for my answer.

  “Tara.” He presses up against me again, his fingers resting on my ribs, threateningly.

  “Okay! I want to be dominated.” I rush the words out. CJ’s eyes brighten. “I thought you weren’t into collars?”

  “Not dominated like that.” My voice is barely a whisper. Oh god, am I actually admitting this out loud?

  “I want to be taken by force.” CJ’s jaw drops. Not the answer he was expecting. Trust me, I can’t believe it’s my fantasy either, but the idea of being completely controlled is thrilling. I’m fucking soaked just thinking about it.

  “Like a captive fantasy?”

  I nod apprehensively.

  “Damn, woman.” CJ grabs my hand and yanks me into the bedroom. He sits down on the bed and situates me between his legs. He grips my hips as I look down at him. “You are a fucking wildcat.”

  “I like to call it sexually adventurous.”

  “Adventurous? I’d use the word intrepid with fantasies like that.”

  “Do I intimidate you?” I mess with him.

  “It takes way more than a beautiful blonde with killer sexual desires to intimidate me. You turn me the fuck on like I’m a nuclear fucking reactor.” His fingertips bite into my sides. “And I may not be some fucking stranger who corners you in a dark alley, but I can still dominate the shit out of you. Now take your fucking clothes off. Slowly. You promised me a strip show, and I’m through waiting.”

  “I don’t remember promising.” I pick up my foot and press it against him, digging the heel lightly into his chest. “Pull.”

  CJ takes hold of the boot, and I gently slip my foot out of it, making sure the hem of my dress hikes up high enough to give him an opportunistic view. He licks his lips like a hungry predator, dropping the boot on the ground.

  “I can’t wait to bury my face in that fucking pussy,” he says as I lift my other foot. I can’t wait, either, but he wants a strip show so that is what he is going to get.

  Once my other boot is off, I inch the hem of my sweater dress up my thighs. Slowly, deliberately, only revealing as much as I want CJ to see.

  “If that goddamn dress doesn’t come off in the next five seconds, I’m ripping it off your body.”

  “I thought you wanted a show?” I ask innocently.

  “I want you naked more.” He roughly pushes the cashmere material up. I drag the dress off the rest of the way then drop it next to the boots. I’m left standing in only my bra, no underwear.

  “Off,” CJ commands as he attacks my bare navel. He wasn’t kidding about burying his face in my pussy because, by the time I slip my bra off, he has my clit trapped between his teeth. I tremble. If he’s not careful, this will be over faster than a New York minute. A second later, he lays off the death grip and licks me emphatically until I’m moaning and excessively wet. I grab his head and grind my hips until everything inside me is gravitating to the center of my legs, until my body is begging for it.

  “Do you honestly think I’m going to make it that easy?”

  He sucks hard on my clit one last time before he pulls away.

  “I was hoping.” I pant, unfulfilled.

  “I told you I have plans for you tonight, shortcake. And they start with you undressing me.” He yanks me down to my knees. “Get busy.” He motions to the buttons on his dress shirt. With a little smirk, I begin undoing each one, making sure to scrape my nails against his skin every chance I get. I push his shirt off his shoulders then move down to his pants. The bulge under his zipper is so protrusive; it’s nearly ripping the metal teeth in two.

  Once his pants are gone, CJ takes advantage of my kneeling position, forcing my head down until I’m sucking his cock. I do it with pleasure, making sure to torture him the same way
he tortured me. I swallow him until he’s panting and pre-cum is sliding down my throat. As I blow him, I feel CJ remove the flower clip from my hair then untwist the elastic holding my bun in place. My hair spills out all over his lap, and he moans openly, running his fingers through the long strands.

  “I couldn’t imagine fucking you without this hair.” He tugs at the roots as I take him in deeper, so deep he shudders then rips my head away.

  “I’m not going to make it that easy for me either.” He tilts my face up. At least he plays fair. “I said I have plans for you and I meant it. Get on the bed,” he orders, releasing the tight grip he has on my hair. I crawl onto the mattress as CJ stands and grabs the gold metallic bag from the sex museum off the nightstand and a sleeve of condoms from the drawer, dropping both items on the comforter next to me. I look back and forth between him and the gold bag inquisitively, my imagination running wild as to what could be in there.

  He climbs on the bed like a provisioned hunter, his arm and stomach muscles rippling as he crawls toward me. I watch enamored as he splits open the bag and pulls out the first content. A small bottle of lubricant. The glint in his eye tells me he’s up to no good as he pops open the top. There’s a split second of hesitation before he douses me with the liquid.

  “CJ!” I try to jump away, but he snatches my wrist and pulls me close, smearing the lube all over my body, breasts to torso then down to my pussy. The sticky substance is warmer than I expect, and his hands are purposeful. He knows exactly where and how to touch me.

  “You don’t play fair,” I complain wantonly.

  “Life’s not fair.” He massages me all over until my upper body is glistening.

  Ain’t that the truth?

  He reaches into the bag again, this time pulling out a ‘cum rag.’ He wipes the lube off his hands then reaches into the bag a third time, pulling out a chain with a metal clamp on each end. He said he had plans, and he wasn’t kidding. Holy shit.

  CJ positions himself so he is leaning up against the wooden headboard then urges me into his lap. Once I’m straddling him, he teases me with one of the clamps, running it lightly up and down the center of my slick body and over each nipple repeatedly. The light sensation, the thin film of lubrication, and the excitement of the unknown does wild things to me. Tack on the fact he is holding equal amounts of pleasure and pain in just one hand, nearly has me walking on pins and needles.