by Rachael Wade
“It’s a means to an end.”
“What would you rather be doing?”
A bout of silence fills the space. My heart beats faster and my fingers twitch against her skin. Five seconds feels like five hours.
“Elise? Tell me.”
Her voice is softer. Almost meek. My breath catches in my throat when her dainty hands tense on my thighs. “Speaking French.”
“You’re interested in languages?”
“Just French. Always wanted to learn to speak it…and maybe teach it someday.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Paying bills has always been more important.” She shrugs, and her eyes flick over her shoulder. “I started college. Took some French lessons. Had to drop out, though.”
“You should go back.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“So, it’s the money?”
“It’s a lot of things.” The edge suddenly returns to her tone, so I decide to let up a bit and comfort her with the only thing I know that will put her at ease. My hand drifts down, over her torso, searching for its target. My thumb skims gently over her clit, moving in small circles. Her body begins to respond, her chest rising and falling as her breath quickens. “Are you satisfied now?”
“For now.” I continue to tease her clit and drop my mouth to her shoulder. I still want to know what her tattoo means. I still want to know a lot of things. But she’s given me just a snippet of something else in her world—something that doesn’t revolve around rumors and secrets and notches on a bedpost. And I intend to keep it safe. Little by little, I’ll work to unravel my filthy, golden angel.
Little by little, she’ll realize she’s mine.
FIVE
I spend half the day pondering how the hell I can talk Elise into letting me pay for her schooling. I want her to go back, want her to study French, be a teacher…hell, anything she wants. Whatever it is, I want to give it to her, and I’m well aware that it makes me fucking crazy. Psychotic, really. But the girl does things to me, things that even I don’t understand.
Maybe I can talk her into quitting her job. Maybe she’d go back to school full time. Maybe even travel to France and add something to that sexy tattoo of hers, the one that sits sinfully on the dips of her hips, bordering that luscious line of skin that sits somewhere between provocative and forbidden. She still won’t tell me what it symbolizes, but I’m confident that I’ll be able to break that barrier. At some point, she’ll let me in.
Over the past few weeks, she keeps coming back for more, so that must count for something. It must be a good sign. But now the nerves are settling in, much worse now than they were in the very beginning. I keep wondering when the ball is going to drop. When she’s going to cut me off, or disappear from my life completely.
My fingers tap impatiently on the top of my desk. My gaze falls on the large picture windows that span the length of my office. Gig Harbor is a beautiful town—picturesque and quaint. You can enjoy some pretty spectacular views while you’re out and about, but none of them beat the one from my office. In fact, when my father originally bought this property, he bought it for the view from the main office. Then he ripped the building out and completely renovated it from top to bottom. It’s now my base and our most prized property in the Pacific Northwest.
Visions of Elise prick my mind, reminding me of our tub talk and the hours we spent rolling around in my most opulent suite. We’ve returned to the same suite twice now, but I’ve made an effort to be a little more discreet. My staff if used to seeing me with Kylie, and I’ve already had to pay a few of the front desk clerks for their silence when they recognized the infamous blonde I’d been inviting up to the room.
I glance at the phone on the desk.
My fingers still.
I make my move, but not without cursing under my breath first.
“Chad, it’s me.” I pick at the edge of the desk and grind my teeth, fighting for the words. It’s a struggle, but I manage to push them out. This call is for Elise. All of this is for Elise. As long as I keep reminding myself of this, I’ll make it to the other side. “I have a proposition for you.”
Chad’s smart-ass laugh floats through the receiver. “Dude, you’re so dirty, man.”
“Not that kind of proposition, asshole.” I laugh with him, but the humor is strained. My throat is tight and I’m breaking out in a sweat. Fuck, this is going to be the death of me.
“Oh, no? Well lay it on me, man. What’s up?”
“You guessed right. It’s a dirty proposition. But before I bring you in on it, I need to make one thing one hundred percent fucking clear, you hear me? I’m talking crystal. If this goes bad, you answer to me. Understood?”
“Uh…Christian, you’re kinda freaking me out right now, man. Are we dropping bodies in barrels or something? This isn’t some Breaking Bad shit, is it?”
“I want Brent and Carl in on this. We’ll need someone to handle the camera. You. You’ll be handling the camera.”
“Whoa, wait. What camera?”
“The camera you’re going to use to film me, Brent, and Carl enjoying the company of a certain lady friend of mine—key word mine. They get to have their way with her, but I get her last. And when I get her, you all leave the room. Immediately.”
There’s a sharp whistle followed by a rush of laughter, and I hang my head. This is going to be harder than I thought. “You can’t be serious,” Chad croaks. “You’re asking us to gang bang your current fuck buddy? Why would you even have to ask, man? Shit, when and where? I’m there. Let me get Brent and Carl on the phone with the details.”
“I figured you’d be on board.” My knuckles whiten and I lift my head. “Tell me you heard the most important part. Or it doesn’t happen.”
“The most important part? Dude, the most important part is that you’re asking us to bang your girl. That’s all I’m hearing right now.”
“I’m only going to say it one more time. Elise is mine. You’ll have your fun, but then it’s done. You’re never to touch her again. You don’t pursue her, don’t even fucking look in her direction.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chad drawls, “and when it’s your turn on the merry-go-round, we get the hell out of dodge and leave you two alone. I heard you the first time.”
“Good. Tomorrow night, midnight. My office. Get in touch with Brent and Carl and get back to me.”
“Will do, brother. You are one crazy son of a bitch. You sure you’re up for this? I know how you are with your women…are we gonna walk out of your office with our dicks still attached? I’m scared.”
“I’m far from thrilled about it, but it’s what she wants. I’ll live.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. This was her idea? She wants to do this? Holy God, man. I need to put a ring on this girl’s finger. She’s a fucking keeper!”
The comment smacks into my chest and digs a crater.
This. This is the crux of it all, right here. What this girl does to me, why I’m enraptured by her essence. She’s the epitome of true female sexuality—the stripped down, raw, honest kind. Every woman wants to get fucked in an alleyway like a three-dollar hooker. They might not all admit it, but the truth is they love getting dirty. Dirty equates with desire. Desire means reckless abandon. And every woman, nun and porn star alike, loves to be immersed in desire. Everyone wants to be wanted.
And Elise isn’t afraid to let the world know she wants it.
There’s no veil. No games, no playing timid or hard to get, just straightforward sensuality that tells men exactly what she likes and how she likes it. Still, did she have to voice the one thing that grates my nerves like nothing else? A small voice deep within me whispers, daring me to ask myself if I’d feel this possessive over any other woman.
I stifle that small voice and bury it ten feet under.
“Christian?” Chad asks.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
“You spacing out on me dude? This is some serious shit we’re discussing righ
t here!”
“Just have a lot going on right now. Look, call the guys up and let me know when the light is green. I have to run.”
“Whatever you say, brother. Talk to you soon.”
I hang up and stare at the phone. I really do have a lot going on. For one, my marriage is barely hanging on by a thread, and my escapades with Elise are further pushing it to the very edge. For two, I need to cancel my plans with Lola tomorrow night, which were made for the sole purpose to deal with the pent-up tension that Elise’s absence has brought into my life. I crave her now. I was addicted from the start, but once I picked up the habit, that craving intensified tenfold.
Three, I need to get busy making sure I’m prepared for what’s about to go down. I love my friends. They really do need their dicks. I’m going to need to get my temper in check, or I just might rob them of their manhood. Chad’s scared? Hell, I’m terrified.
I sigh and stand, collecting my briefcase and laptop. I’m strolling out the office door, ready to head home, when my phone buzzes. A text from Chad.
It’s on, man. We’ll be there with our party dresses on.
I still at the door, re-reading the text. My mind is dancing somewhere between panic and euphoria. Elise will love this, which means I’ll love it.
I hope.
***
The stage is set. Alt-J’s “Tessellate” plays on repeat in the background, my desk is clear of clutter, and the camera’s ready to go. Brent and Carl stand behind my desk in their suits, watching the clock like lust-crazed teenagers waiting for their hot English teacher to walk through the door, salivating at the thought of that very first glimpse.
I crack my knuckles and remove my suit jacket, hanging it on the back of my office chair. “She’ll be here any minute.”
“You gonna tell us this girl’s name?” Brent asks, running his fingers through his spiky brown hair. He’s a total gym rat, like me. We’ve been friends since middle school and have shared a lot of things, but never girlfriends.
Never anyone or anything like Elise.
“I’ll introduce her when she gets here.” My insides feel like hot lava is being dumped onto my organs. I’m filled with so many things: anticipation, elation, and anger. Anger that my best friends are about to touch her, and anger that I can’t put my stupid possessive streak aside for one night to give Elise something that turns her on. I live to turn her on.
I bite my lip as I admit this to myself.
There’s a quiet knock on the office door and I quickly rise to my feet. Chad moves to play with a few buttons on the camera while Brent and Carl adjust their ties and suit jackets, anxiously glancing at the door.
“Come in,” I say gruffly, stationing myself in front of Chad, hands in my pockets.
Elise walks in and suddenly no one else is in the room. Her lips are painted the same shade of red as her dress, a dark ruby color that bleeds into her delicate, silky skin. “What’s this?” There’s a hint of a smile on her face as she closes the door.
“Elise Duchamp?” Brent clears his throat and glances at me, a very pleased twinkle in his eye. One twinkle, and I’m already ready to punch the living shit out of him.
“Have you two…” I glare at him.
“No, no. I’ve just heard about her around town, ya know.”
Elise leans against the back of the door and crosses her arms, the humor playing on her lips travelling to her eyes. “I bet you have.”
Brent laughs nervously and Carl makes his way around the desk to extend his hand. “Hey there, darlin’. I’m Carl. This guy here is Brent,” he points over his shoulder, “and the camera man here is Chad.”
Elise looks coolly to her left, where the music drifts from the speakers, then over at the camera. Chad nods at her, licking his lips as he eyes her up and down. “Chad, Brent, and Carl,” she drawls, slowly pushing herself off the door. She glides toward me, and I swear to God, the second she locks eyes with me, I melt into a fucking puddle right there on my office floor. “I believe I know you, Sir.” She reaches out and plays with the end of my tie, and my arms instinctively move to her hips.
“I have a surprise for you.” My voice is husky.
“I see that.”
“I hope it pleases you.”
She grins wickedly and tilts her head to eye my friends. She scans them one by one, taking in their fine luxury suits and their eagerness, turning back to me once she’s satisfied with her fill. I wait, expecting her to respond, watch her lips part as if the words are hanging right there between the small space between us, but she steps back, releases my tie and strolls around the desk. She heads straight for Brent, and my hands already miss her hips.
She slowly slips onto the edge of the desk and turns slightly, so she’s in line with the camera. Chad looks to me for permission to start rolling and I nod, unable to move. All I can do is watch. My feet are planted to the carpet. Brent and Carl slowly resume their original positions behind the desk and wait, letting Elise do what she does best: take the lead.
The music’s hypnotic rhythm sets the pace, sends the room tilting into a lush haze. As Elise parts her legs and leans up to pull at Brent’s tie, I finally find the strength to move. She pulls him to her, and it sends me into action. I take a seat in my office chair, carefully placing my hands on the armrests, palms down. My fingers curl over the round, black plastic as I angle the chair so I’m facing Brent and Elise.
“How do you like it, baby?” Brent leans in with a smirk, bringing his mouth to her cheek. She pulls him closer, tighter between her legs, and his hand automatically lands on her upper thigh, sliding north until it hits just along the hem of her red dress. My nostrils flare and there’s a swelling in my chest, a raging heat that’s so fucking confusing, I can’t process the rush. Part of me is so goddamned turned on, I’m having a hard time not stroking myself, but the other part…the other part is tempting me to put a fist through the wall.
“From behind?” Brent asks, slipping his hand beneath her dress. The plastic armrests groan with pressure as I clamp down.
Elise’s eyes find mine, smoldering and daring, and she shakes her head. “No, just like this.” Her arms come up and lazily rest on Brent’s shoulders. She lifts her hips, pressing her pussy against him, and he groans, glancing down at the sight.
“Yeah,” he responds gruffly, “we can do that.” Suddenly he moves quickly, running both hands up her hips to find her panties. He yanks them down and moves for her heels, next.
“On,” I bark, keeping my gaze locked on Elise. “They stay on.” Brent stills and obeys, while Elise’s eyes sparkle at me. It takes everything in me not to jump up and body slam Brent out of the way. Carl takes a step forward and tugs at the top of Elise’s dress, pulling the straps down, exposing her tits. Brent begins fingering her while Carl bends and kisses her nipples. He sucks and moves north to her neck, and the second she moans, I can’t stand the pressure anymore. I unzip my pants and slowly begin stroking myself, eyes glued to the scene before me.
I push out Brent and Carl. Push out their mouths and hands, blot out their groans of pleasure as they begin to take their turn with my dirty, golden angel. Elise is the sun: her glistening, west pussy as Brent finger fucks her, her round, bouncing tits as Carl plays with them, and her lips—goddamn, those lips. They’re parted as her breathing picks up, her hips tilting to meet Brent’s thrust. She’s leaning back on her hands, the flawless portrait of a fallen deity. She’s coming hard against Brent’s hand in seconds, watching me the entire time, and I know then.
I know right then, she’s mine. All mine.
Even as Brent unzips to roll on the condom and slip inside of her, she’s watching me. Every few seconds she bites her lip and those beautiful eyes drift shut, but they never stray from me for long. I vaguely register Chad near the camera, stroking himself as he watches but doesn’t touch. Carl is barely restraining himself as Brent fucks her, pumping his own cock between his fist, readying himself for his turn.
Brent begins
pounding his way home, his hands a vice grip on Elise’s waist. I roll my thumb over my swollen head and moisten my lips, determined to wait. I’m wound so tightly, I know I’m close to coming, but I want to give her this—every gratifying inch. I’ll be the last one to quench her thirst, but the first to truly satisfy her. Brent’s not doing it for her, and Carl won’t be able to, either. Her eyes aren’t alive the way they are when I fuck her. She doesn’t mewl and whimper as Brent touches her, and her back doesn’t arch, doesn’t yield to his direction.
Yup. Motherfucking claimed.
Brent shouts as he finishes, delivering a few final thrusts, and Elise’s head rolls back, breaking our connection for the first time since Brent’s been inside of her. Carl wastes no time when Brent pulls out, stepping in front of him to claim the space. I almost stand up and stop him.
Almost.
One more glance at Elise tells me she’s loving this, and nothing gives me a greater high. Carl forcefully flips her over and drags her by the hips to the edge of the desk. He rolls the rubber on and takes a minute to explore the curves of her ass before slamming inside of her from behind, running his hands up along her torso. He heads straight for her tits as he begins to nail her, rocking into her slowly at first. Elise’s sounds send my hand straight back to my cock, and apparently spur Carl on to increase his speed, because he suddenly picks up the pace and loses control.
Brent moves in next to Carl to begin fingering Elise from the front, leaning against the desk edge to wedge his hand between the action. Chad’s eyes are on fire behind the camera. By the looks of him, he won’t last long. Not that I blame the guy. He’s got the most erotic role in this play. I don’t envy the poor bastard. Then again, he can manage watching the whole thing without feeling the urge to claw his friends’ eyes out. Damn him.
Carl pumps into her a few minutes more before he comes, panting and slumping against her back as he finishes. He and Brent catch their breath and turn to sit on the edge of the desk, one on each side of Elise. She turns herself over and looks straight at me, her chest rising and falling with uneven breath. My skin burns, my fingertips ache to touch her, but I wait.
