Versions
A Blacklist Novella
Megan Mitcham
Contents
Copyright Warning
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Books By Megan Mitcham
VIRTUES
Enemy Mine
About the Author
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published by MM Publishing LLC
Edited by Lacey Thacker
Cover Design by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design
Versions
All Rights Are Reserved. Copyright 2014 by Megan Mitcham
First electronic publication: December 2014
First print publication: December 2014
Digital ISBN: 978-1-941899-08-3
Print ISBN: 978-1-941899-09-0
To the trials of life, for every heartache, scrape, slight, and failure reveals true character. May our mettle be bright and enduring, and bring us closer to the people we are meant to become.
1
“Rin! Sorry I’m late, babe,” Nate hollered through the condo loudly enough for every occupant in the three-story building to hear.
The thunderous boom broke the serenity of her MAC makeover experience. She jerked at the abrupt noise she’d expected a half an hour before. The ultra-red lipstick she was applying jumped over the light-pink edge of her upper lip, making a mockery of her hard work.
“Damn.”
Rin sifted through bottles of cleanser, several different shades of eye liner, palettes of shadow, and powders until she found the pack of specialty wipes. Plucking one from the container, she leaned closer to the vanity mirror and sought the best angle of attack before neatly wiping it away. Nate’s hefty steps drew near. She whirled in a hurry to catch his reaction to the “new” Darinda Lee.
“Traffic was a bitch named Suzy.”
She smiled at his crazy saying, while her body hummed at his deep timbre and the knowledge of what was about to go down. Because, late or not, sick or not, when Nate came home he came home inside her…or on her.
“Well, I’m not a jealous girlfriend, but next time tell Suzy I get psycho when anything gets between me and my man.”
“I’ll be sure and let her know.”
He stopped so quickly rounding the corner his sneakers squeaked on the wood of their bedroom floor. His fist tightened around the straps of his gym bag, highlighting the bulging veins coursing down his arm. The dark brown of his eyes turned cold, something that had scared her when they first met. But now the obsidian glaze incited the driving pulse in her damp panties. He tossed the bag to the floor. Its thud echoed in the minimalist space.
“Who are you and what have you done with Rin?”
“You didn’t really want her. What a snooze fest in bad clothes. Can you honestly tell me her boxy accountant’s suits and dull hair got you hot?”
Nate stalked forward. His bulky lineman’s frame filled the arched doorway leading to the massive—by DC standards—walk-in closet and double vanity. He raked a hand over the snake-print leather covering her hip. His hand dipped at her narrow waist and rose higher. Heat plumped her breast through the sleeveless sheath dress. A moan parted her lips.
“Her clothes? No. Her reactions? Yes. Her body? Yes.” Nate gripped her chin and angled it down ever so slightly, since in heels she stood nearly an inch taller than he. “Rin would have known not to bother with lipstick until I’ve had my fill.” His thumb smeared over her lower lip. “Babe.” He flipped a lock of bright blonde hair—four or five shades lighter than her former color—between his thumb and forefinger. “She would have known I don’t care how her hair looks, as long as it’s tangled in my hands while I’m fucking her.”
“Yes,” she pleaded. Her hips danced in tiny circles, rubbing her clit across the span of his prospering erection.
“Tell me why, Rin. Why change your look? We’ve been together six months. Doesn’t the taste of my cum on your tongue nearly every damn day tell you I’m satisfied?”
“Mmm, it does.” She licked her lip and caught the tip of his thumb. Salt seared her taste buds. Nate’s nostrils flared and Rin pressed her aching nipples against his impossibly hard pecs. “But… I’m only seven months out of a master’s program and I looked like the ladies who’ve worked at the DOD since the Reagan administration. I’ve been there long enough that I have a reputation based on my merits, not the length of my legs—”
“Which fit perfectly around my barrel waist.” Nate nestled his cock in the junction of her thighs, his fingers bit into her ass, and he held them together.
“Ahhh, they do. And now I can wear fitted things without worrying they’ll only see my body and not my mind.”
“Don’t wear this to the office. Defense would ship you to another county to entice them into signing a hundred-year treaty.”
“I’d never wear this to work. I picked out some fancy suits from Moi-Même. But I will wear this to dinner tonight with the gang.”
“Man. I’d rather you wore it while wearing me out all night.”
“If you’d quit talking and get moving, we’d have time for a quickie.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, whispering against his mouth, “Or are you scared of a little lipstick?”
“I’m scared of a lot of things concerning you, but lipstick isn’t one of them.” Her brow crinkled, something the consultants at the cosmetics counter would likely frown upon, without actually frowning. What things scared him? Their relationship had been live-in from nearly day one, but not so serious that he should have anxiety over it. Unless he wanted out. Or in deeper.
They’d never used the L word. She’d only said it to three people in her life and two of them were dead. And the third wasn’t long for the world.
She inhaled to ask, but his lips sealed over hers in a crushing embrace. It broke her unpleasant train of thought—a major one of the several reasons she liked having him around. Rin plowed her fingers through his close-cropped hair and parried his plundering tongue. Nate eased back, his thin and now-vibrant red lips spread into a grin.
“Not worried I’ll get you dirty?”
“As a football coach’s main squeeze,” she glanced down at his hands still gripping her ass, “I’ve gotten used to the sweat. I like your smell.” She dipped her head and licked the column of his neck. “And I like it when you get me dirty.”
“You drive me crazy, Rin.” He shoved her back and turned her to face the mirror. “Bend over and grab the sink.”
Raw masculinity paraded itself
in Nate’s massive girth. It stood out on either side of her twig-like frame. His wet shirt clung to the curving dips and elevations of his full muscles. If ever a bulldog had been turned into a human, Nathaniel Harmon was the end result of that magic. His rough hike of her skirt jarred her hips. And, like always, she was thankful he respected her enough to leave her partially dressed while they got down and dirty. Her scars were too ugly for sex, probably for her more so than him.
Rin braced both hands on the cool metal of the faucet and looked to the mirror. In the reflection her gaze flashed to her lively hair color, which would take some getting used to, and then skittered to her heavy lidded baby-blues before jumping to Nate’s devilish expression.
“Black lace. Nice. But I prefer your sleek, pink bare skin.” One finger slid across her chilled bottom. It ran the ridge of her thong from the base of her tailbone to over her sensitive whorl. A shock of desire clenched her sex. “Such a greedy little ass you have. It’s a wonder your pussy gets any attention at all.”
“You make me greedy, Nate. You make me so hot and needy.” She pressed against his finger, but he removed it.
“Don’t rush me, babe. Can’t have you coming before I even get inside you.”
“Why not?” she moaned.
“Because we’ll save multiples for later. Right now, it’s one big cumfest. You and me, together.”
Rin bent her elbows and rubbed her engorged nipples on the edge of the counter, beyond desperate for release. The way Nate talked to her ramped her lust to a far off universe. At first it had shocked her speechless and she hadn’t known why. In her wayward youth, which wasn’t all that long ago, she’d done plenty worse things than let a guy whisper, “pussy,” in her ear.
Lace glided over her cheeks, tickled her thighs, and landed atop the red Jimmy Choos she really should have saved for a separate shopping spree. But her promotion paid nearly double the salary and, from the taut jaw and laser stare at the curve of her backside, her boyfriend obviously adored them.
“You’re dripping already. I don’t even have to lap your clit.”
Then again, maybe it wasn’t the shoes he liked so much.
Nate dropped out of sight. His hot breath curled across her cunt. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” The wet barb of his tongue scored her swollen nub. Once. Twice. Ten strokes in rapid succession.
“Ahhh, stop, baby, or I’m going to come,” she panted, grinding her breasts against the white granite.
“Don’t come.”
Those two words were the only pause in attack on the little bundle of nerves. To dull the overwhelming urge to fly into a million pieces, Rin opened the top drawer and pulled out a gold foil package. As much sex as they had, they always practiced safe sex. She would have caved too many times, but Nate stuck to the agreement like the dirtiest saint in Catholicism.
She held it between her legs. “Please, Nate.”
He pierced her with his naked tongue once more and then stood. His lips glistened in the bright lighting. His cheeks flushed. He licked her cream from his mouth. “You taste like a whore in heat, babe.”
“I am, for you.”
Nate stripped his athletic shorts, snagged the packet from her hand, and set about sheathing himself. Rin lowered her hand and panted into the sink. The long ends of her hair pooled in the dry basin. Insane. She must be insane. This relationship was nothing but sex between roommates who happened to share mutual friends. But hey, what relationship was perfect?
Alone worked for her. Lovey dovey did not. Nate refused to leave her alone, even with her upfront rules. He probably stuck around because of them. What guy wouldn’t want strings-free pussy and a place to live?
His blunt head swirled in her juices at her entrance. Suddenly, she no longer cared about anything but penetration and the ride. She arched and pressed back. Nate’s meaty hands gripped her hips, churning her tumult higher.
“Let’s see if this cunt is as tight as I remember.”
“You were in it this morning.”
“And it’s been too long.”
“Yes. Yes.” She writhed.
He stretched her so full. Her breath caught as it always did. Nate grunted, pushing in to the base. They weren’t the best fit. He never hit her G spot, but what he lacked in length he more than made up for in girth and finesse. He set a punishing pace, his body lurching as he jacked himself inside her, enlivening her slick folds with each forceful smack of their flesh.
“Tight as ever,” he chuffed.
“Tight enough to make you a minute man?”
“Oh, Rin.” Nate grimaced and his fingers loosened on her hip. He leaned forward and presented his thumb. “Lick it.” Having an idea of where that digit was headed, she left enough saliva on his pad to do the job. “That’s it, babe.”
When the slippery pressure of Nate’s thumb whirled over her pulsing rosette her mouth fell open. The sorcery of his fast beat combined with the heavy tension at the base of her spine. Rin spiraled out of control. She pressed her nipples against the counter and moaned. “I can’t stop. I’m coming. Oh, Nate it feels so good.”
“Fuck,” he roared. Before her eyes closed on blinding ecstasy, the veins in Nate’s wide neck bulged and his chin arched toward the ceiling. He pushed her through the exquisite spasm of every overwrought nerve ending in her body. She came violently, pulsing around his shaft, which fought back with thrusts and swelling throbs of shooting cum.
Rin rested her cheek on the cold countertop and worked to rein her composure. She loved the high of foreplay and the exploit of two bodies consuming one another, but she hated the vulnerability of the drop. That time when the carnal act became something more than pleasure. When sex became emotion. Where emotion became commitment…which ultimately turned to disillusionment.
Nate crowded her with his big chest. He brushed her long hair to the side with gentle strokes. The warmth of his lips brushed over her shoulder in a ghost of a kiss before he straightened.
“We have to meet Zach and Jen at eight,” she panted.
“That gives us forty-five to get there. I’ll be out of the shower in seven.”
“On the dot?” she asked with a giggle.
“Give or take a few, smart ass.” His palm stung her cheek in a playful smack. That opened her eyes right up. She shifted to her elbows and watched Nate disengage from her body. He slipped the condom off his waning erection, tossed it in the garbage under the sink, and stripped off his shirt. Of course he left his damn clothes in the middle of the walkway.
“You know, the hamper is four feet from your heap of sweaty clothes just inside the open closet door?”
“In perfect shooting distance for you, babe. Just remember, it’s all in the wrist.”
“You know you’re a jerk?”
“Yep. The only question is, why do you put up with it?”
She shook her head and eyed his sturdy ass as it disappeared into the bathroom. When the shower squeaked on she turned back to her reflection. It would take a while to get used to the new ’do and make-up, but she liked it a lot. Now, if she could just get the rest of herself unrumpled.
Snagging a washcloth, Rin wet it and cleaned between her legs. It took a wiggle or five to get the leather over her bottom and smoothed back into place. Then she grabbed Nate’s clothes and threw them, along with the rag, into the dirty clothesbasket. Whistling reverberated from the glass-walled shower stall. Was that the Sesame Street theme song?
“You’re killing me,” she hollered while crossing the two steps to the steam-filled room and then closing the door. “Sing or yodel. Do anything but whistle.”
Seriously, how had she managed to maintain her sanity over the last several months? She snatched the brush from the vanity with a little more force than necessary and dragged the bristles through her straight-as-a-line boob-length hair. At least screwing hadn’t messed with the bit of volume she’d teased at the roots. Rin leaned forward and smoothed a hand over the angular structure of her face.
/> A vibration tickled her hand. She jerked, the brush clutched like a hammer, ready to drop on an unassuming bug. Nate’s sleek black phone settled. Rin released a long exhale and set the brush down.
Way to freak out over a text, Lee.
She set the brush down and reached for the phone, thinking it might be Zach or Gregory changing plans as they often did on a whim. Her hand froze over the lit screen. That long exhale turned into a vacuum in her lungs. All function seized, except sight.
Rin read the text. Paused. And then read it again. And again.
The more she read the less sense it made.
The CAL urn came back negative for human remains. It was tree ash. Quit playing house and stay focused. She may make contact.
2
Human remains? Nate coached a championship football team. He taught kids on a roller-coaster-cocktail of pubescent hormones how to handle a car without killing themselves. Occasionally—and even more dicey than dodging head-on collisions—he talked reproductive systems while subbing in health class. Not even college-level health classes discussed cremated bodies.
Playing house? With who? Her? Someone else?
No. No to all of it. Rin pulled in a shaky breath. This was obviously a wrong number. The lingo sounded cop-ish. They lived in the capital, where the crime rate kept pace with the ever-expanding population. Surly a cop’s fat fingers dialed the wrong number.
Weird. Just weird.
A shiver wracked Rin’s body. She chaffed her arms to ward off the chill, but couldn’t. She stumbled back from the phone and into the closet. She clutched the stand of shelves to the right of the door, steadied her wobbling legs, and perused half her wardrobe without actually seeing it.
The shower cut off. She almost jumped out of her heels. He hadn’t been in there long at all…because they were going to have dinner with their friends and they were running late…because they’d just fucked like feral beasts. Rin’s pulse lurched despite her mental pep talk.
Versions (The Blacklist Series Book 1) Page 1
