by Lana Hartley
When the fire in my mind subsides, I try to return to breathing normally, turning over and pulling her against my chest. She curls up against me, and now the silence in the air after all the groans and screams seems strange. Sterile and chill when I start to think about it, but when Leah adjusts her position so slightly, it makes me focus on the feel of her skin. I run my fingers up and down her back, softly feeling the gentle curve of her spine the way she's curled against me.
My phone starts popping up a thousand work notifications, buzzing against the wood of the nightstand. I want to ignore it, but if I don't stay on top of things, they just pile up until it is even more of a pain in the ass. I lean to the side to get it, gripping her ass with a squeeze for a nice way to keep my balance. She yelps and I come back to kiss her, softly, on the top of her nose.
"I'm going to shower," she says, standing. Something cold passes between us. The phone notifications weren't the catalyst. They were her opening.
I know I should give her space, but I can't. I pass a hand down my abs and look up at her. "I could use one as well, after that workout." Princess is looking me up and down, sucking on her bottom lip. I don't think she realizes it. But that's okay because I do. She's conflicted, I know it, but I'm too much of a bastard to let her come to her own conclusions. Leah is mine, and if I am getting her body dirty, well, I'm going to clean it up too. "Start the water; I'll take care of this and be there for a minute," I tell her.
She scrunches up her face. "There's like...a million knobs and showerheads. I don't think I'll ever get used to it." The weight in the air tells me I don't know that she'll ever get used to me, either.
I laugh, trying to keep the sound light when my heart is heavy. I walk into the bathroom and turn on all the knobs for her. I step inside with her. Corner her, pointing one of the showerheads to hit her right on the clit while I capture her mouth for a kiss that I meant to be soft, but the ferocity with which she returns my kiss steals any thought I might touch my cell phone. No, my hands are pinning hers over her head, and I'm adding my fingers the stream of water playing with her clit. Her soft little moans in my mouth are my goddamn undoing. Already, I want to fuck her again. Instead, though, I drop to my knees and pull her onto my face. "Hold the bars," I groan, and she's holding the safety bars I have in my shower so that I can suffocate myself in her sweet, sticky pussy. The taste of our come together and her urgent moans egg me on, making me press my fingers deeper into her and suck her clit hard, tearing another orgasm from her.
Untitled
I had a phone. I actually had a phone. The nice lady in the shop believed that mine had died, and it worked.
So what the fuck was I supposed to do now?
Well, Renaud had told me that he was an art thief when we talked about why he was meeting my father, and when we had talked about what he was doing to him.
"You need to get eyes on some of the pieces. Since you can't take pictures, try to remember some keywords and don't make any notes. You don't want to get caught. Renaud doesn't take kindly to betrayal. We want to keep you safe, Leah.”
Those words made me shudder. I should have felt safe, hearing them, but instead, I felt disgusted. I was rankled. I wanted help, but I didn't like how Inspector Willoughby said tthat. There was something about him that I couldn't place. I didn't know what it was. Jacob Renaud rankled me, too, but not like this. I felt like I wanted him constantly in spite of myself but with Inspector Willoughby, my gut nagged me. I told myself that it was just because I was so nervous and afraid of getting away from Jacob Renaud, who Inspector Willoughby had just confirmed was a very dangerous man. I needed to keep my wits about me and not let myself get spooked or back down from what I knew that I needed to do. I needed to be able to do everything that he asked me to do, help piece together this investigation, and start piecing together what I wanted my life to be when it was really my life.
Fuck, that was so overwhelming I couldn't manage to think about anything but Jacob Renaud, discovering me. If he was on to me or if he knew. That was just too much. I was grateful that the inspector was able to get the verification of what I said and not force me to meet. I wasn't sure how I'd be safe if there were eyes on me all of the time. I had to give that gal her phone back and fast, but I was so terrified that somehow they would know. That the driver would drive me somewhere and drop me in a ditch
I realized with chilling certainty that there was no way Jacob Renaud would have someone else do the dirty work to me. Not with the way that he looked at me, the way that he claimed me. He was going to take care of me himself if he discovered my betrayal. I shook at the thought, not wanting to let myself fall into that pit. No, I was going to hand the phone back to the girl, I was going to be able to look at myself in the mirror and see a future.
Not see Jacob Renaud's gilded wristwatch glint back at me in the mirror as I imagined his hands gripping my throat and overtaking me, squeezing the life out of me and dropping me to the ground.
Was that how he'd do it?
"Thanks," I said with the best smile that I could summon. I needed to be able to keep my cool right now, and if the girl did notice anything strange, I didn't want her to say anything. I hoped that she hadn't listened to my conversation, and I'd tried to keep my voice hushed enough that with the hand dryers and the running sink that no one could make out what I was saying. She'd be able to look at her phone's history and see the internet search and the phone call history.
I should have used private browsing, deleted the call from her history, but I didn't want to take too much time. Now I felt an eerie ominous sense of danger. This could be what got me caught. What got me dead at the hand of the powerful man that I had to face again tonight. I looked in the mirror, pretending to be touching up my hair like so many other girls were doing in here. But I wasn't even looking at what I was doing. I was staring into my own eyes and hoping to find strength there.
I thought about how Jacob had said I was strong. Well, the joke’s on you, motherfucker. I am strong enough to take you down.
With that, I exited the bathroom and smiled to a waiting Tatiana who was holding two strange-looking green drinks with whipped cream on top of them. It looked weird but anything with whipped cream was bound to be sweet, and I was excited to have a rush of sugar to battle against my nerves. I needed the pure energy so that I could stop thinking about how jittery all this made me. I needed to be able to face everyone and keep a strong face on. I needed to be able to face myself at the end of this all, and know that I did everything I could.
If I got caught, I died fighting for me. More than I could say about anyone else in my life. More than I had before. I would be able to accept that if it came to that. But I would fight like hell every step of the way until then because I needed to be able to kick enough ass at being the girl who spied that I didn't have to deal with the end of my life so soon.
So, smile. Don't freak out. Don't stumble over your words. Don't show them too much of your fight. For Christ’s sakes, try not to be so sassy or too glum. Tatiana wasn't going to accept that Jacob Renaud was a bad man, no matter what she did know. I knew that she had to know more than she'd totally let on before. But she's showed me her very reason for not thinking anything ill of him, hadn't she? She'd shown me what was at stake for her. I wasn't going to drag her into any of this.
I wondered for a moment if Jacob would hurt Tatiana's child. If he would hurt Tatiana. I was afraid that because I thought he'd never do those things that maybe I was underestimating him. There could be no more dangerous a misstep than to underestimate him, and maybe I needed to fortify myself to the truth, but something so horrific as what I thought someone like my father would do, I couldn't see Jacob doing that. And why? Wasn't I wrong? After all, my father and Jacob ran in at least some of the same circles. No way that they were that different. Jacob was able to make plenty of things happen, I knew what a huge business success he was, but he was also a man who knew that he could buy me from the man my father was.
&n
bsp; It was murky territory I didn't want to wade in. I could feel a lightness in my body imagining a day when I didn't have to deal with any of this shit. The clear, still water of my freedom, it would be mine, soon. I would make that happen.
Of course, I had to hang over the edge of my existence and find myself at the most dangerous place. Sneaking around Jacob's house...well, I knew that if I just tried to do that and not get caught, I was setting myself up to fail.
Sipping the drink from Tatiana and following her lead back to the car, I summoned my most logical, clear head to strategize.
No, I'd have to play the game by his rules. I needed to make the thing I wanted him to do his idea, his concession. I would have to make him show me around. He'd started a conversation with me that I was going to have to finish, continue so that he thought I was trying to get used to him. Give him an inch, get miles away from him. That's what I told myself.
So how come I found myself met with a brain freeze (the new drink was good) and the crushing fear that I was more afraid of knowing him than I was of tricking him into thinking I wanted to know him?
He was a mystery. I just didn't want to need to solve that mystery. But I was going to have to give in to that curiosity and make sure I could use some of the genuine feelings I did have because that was how I could get what I wanted without him suspecting a thing.
I just wondered how many concessions I was going to have to make before there was nothing left of me. I wanted to get out to be me. But even though I'd accomplished something I thought impossible, I still wondered if that was my last bit of luck. If my luck did run out, what would that leave me with?
"You like, huh?" Tatiana said with a grin, tipping her drink up in my direction. "Green tea Frappuccino, strange but good. Still, super sugary, too many damn calories. Which is why we need to go the gym next."
I knew it was on the list, but I realized that she made a good point. Well, she didn't make it, I came to a good choice because of what she said. "Yeah, I like it! I'm thinking I want to learn how to fist-fight. Boxing. Martial arts, something like that." I was going to learn how to defend myself on Jacob Renaud's dime. I probably couldn't take on him or his goons, but I was going to give myself a fighting chance if it came to that. I was going to need the skills in my new life, too, because I was never going to let anyone take advantage of me again. I didn't want to feel weak. I wanted to be in control.
Tatania talked to the driver, discussing some different gyms, I assumed by their names, and then some people. There was something in the conversation that I didn't quite grasp, but it didn't seem like a bad thing. Whatever it was, I figured I had enough to worry about without a mystery I couldn't solve right now. They'd come to an agreement, and we were off. I didn't look out the windows this time. I decided to try and watch Tatiana, without seeming obvious, I hoped. To see what she might be doing. It looked like she was texting. And it could have been anybody. But it could have been Jacob Renaud, and I had a feeling it was.
Leah
"Were you actually doing business with my father?" I figured I needed to ask. If for no other reason, so I could attempt to wipe what I assumed was a stupefied, weak look off my face. I figured being sassy was better than being weak any day. I made sure that he heard the disdain in my voice, equal parts directed at my father and at Jacob Renaud himself. Both equally earned, I could assume.
I tried to recall what he said that night, but right now I was building up to a healthy level of seething rage at my current situation and my ensuing helplessness. I fucking hated being in another situation where I couldn't control what was happening to me. But the standoff wasn't helping. I was going to talk to him if only to satisfy my curiosity, and his. Because that smug bastard look was doing things to me...making me angry, and making me wet if I was honest.
I so didn't want to be honest in that moment, either.
I looked at him as he started to speak, in hopes that he'd be honest.
"In a manner of speaking," Jacob began, his cryptic words shading his voice with a lilt of humor. "Your father believed that I was merging one of my firms with his, but really I was stealing some of the art collection that I simply don't know how he even had taste enough to acquire."
Well, that was not the answer I was expecting. I felt my eyes widen in the instant reaction I had. He seemed to enjoy that.
"What were you stealing, not the-"
"Oh, you know I was," Jacob interrupted me, standing suddenly and making me jump a little at his movement. "It was the only possession your father had, other than you, that wasn't incredibly tacky." He walked to his bar and poured some scotch into two highball glasses, bringing one back to me and setting it down. "Now, I have them both."
Tentatively, I took the glass. At first, I was afraid. I had never really drank much. Just tried it a few times, and I wasn't sure that I liked the way that it made me feel. But I realized there was no reason to fear anything more from Jacob. What difference would some alcohol make?
"So you stole the DiMagerlay," I said, taking a small sip. It was warm to my lips, hot going down, and shocking. But I liked it. I took another drink, a bigger one this time, but by no means a gulp. It wasn't lost on me that Jacob was watching me, studying me, and it seemed like enjoying my exploration of his scotch. I let him have it and ran my tongue over my lips. I couldn't deny, not to myself, that I enjoyed the ramping of power that I felt when he looked at me with such desire. Of course, it should have dampened my urges to know that if I made him want me more, he'd take me more. And I should be trying to stop that...right?
I finished my drink and walked over to the bar, pouring myself more and turning to look at him, holding the decanter up to ask if he'd like more. He nodded, then slowly made a come hither motion at me.
I walked toward him. The weight of our words now was nothing compared to the growing heat in the air. I was touching something dangerous, yet I couldn't keep my moth-self away from the dangerous flame of Jacob Renaud. I was utterly ensnared by him. Right now, as he was telling me how he ruined my father, I didn't have too much of a problem with it. It was difficult to keep stock of what I wanted, what Jacob wanted, what I wanted to celebrate, and what I wanted to prevent now. I took another drink of my scotch, topping it off again, and then walked over to him.
"You came to ruin him. You always come out on top, no matter what big boys are playing with their company toys, don't you, Mr. Renaud?" I asked, slinking toward him and reaching out to pour him another healthy glass of the rich amber liquid.
He grabbed the decanter from my hand, placing it on the table. "Yes, yes, I do. Your father's shitshow of his attempt at having an empire will be ruined, and I'll be buying it at bargain basement prices, just to bury him. End him.”
He had a face of utter smug satisfaction. I couldn't help but cheers my glass, clanking mine into his and then taking another drink.
"I have the most valuable thing he ever had," Jacob said, and instead of sounding utterly smug and revolting about owning me, there was some dark power to his words that sent shivers through my body. I turned on my heel to return my seat, but he captured my wrist, taking my drink, and then pulling me down to sit on his lap, all while never spilling his drink.
"Slow down, princess," Jacob said with a laugh.
"I can handle myself, and if I can't, that's my business," I said, a lot more pouting in my voice than I would like. I just wanted to say something fucking sassy to ruffle his feathers and push him away, but sitting on his lap was making me feel the alcohol more. Suddenly, all the drinks I'd had were definitely starting to wear on me . I wasn't going to say it, but I was glad he stopped me.
Jacob took a sensual drink from his glass, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight of him drinking in the liquid with such elegance. He wasn't anywhere near tipsy. Jacob drank this sort of thing on a regular basis and handled it just fine. No, his full, sensual lips were wet with the scotch. Would taste like them too. They were such soft lips, formed the perfect complement to the
rest of his chiseled face. I looked at his dark eyes now, traveling up his face the only way I could manage to stop staring at his mouth and wanting to kiss him. They were looking at me not with the same assholish, smug way they seemed to be much of the time. They weren't studying me. He seemed...vulnerable almost. It was a rare glimpse, and when his eyes met my gaze, that look flashed from his eyes. It evaporated, overtaken with a look of pure hunger. Jacob's eyes became that of a predator. I knew here I was the prey. And, coloring outside the lines with this new tipsy feeling in my body, I let the frenzy overtake me, and I captured his glass. Surprisingly, he let me take it.
I dipped a finger inside and wet the tip. I went to put it on his lips. Those lips, I wanted to touch them. I wanted them to touch me. I didn't connect with his face and instead brought my other hand to the zipper on the back of my dress, tugging it down enough to let me free my breasts. I popped off the bra that was the only thing between them and freedom, and then I ran the scotch over my nipple.
A fire crackled between us. Jacob took that glass now and, never spilling, he brought my nipple to those lips, flattening his tongue over the aching flesh peaking for him, and then kissed it. Shivers sparked through my body, and I was desperate for him now. I had a taste of what it felt like for him to really fuck me, and right now, I wanted more.
"Fuck me, please," I panted when his mouth had released my breast. I didn't mean to sound so desperate, but I couldn't bear the idea of him not touching me more. I needed so much more.
