Sex, Lies, and Joysticks

by Lynn Chantale

  Tears misted in her eyes. “You always manage to say the right thing even when you’re far away.”

  “You take my breath away, Randa. Why would I not spoil you with flowers?”

  She smiled. Seeing his lightly tanned face on the screen made her day less lonely. She paused in untying the ribbon from the box. “Is there any way you can come home early?”

  “I’m working on it, baby. So far I’ve rearranged this conference so I get back a day, maybe two ahead of schedule.”

  She stared at the screen and frowned at the reddened spots on Lincoln’s face. “You look a little burned.”

  He touched his face. “A bit. I put some aloe vera on it.”

  Randa lifted the lid, looked down, and screamed.

  AT THE BLOODCURDLING scream and total shock on his wife’s face, Lincoln dropped his phone and flew down the stairs. What the hell happened? All week he’d planned to fly home early and surprise her with romance and seduction. The roses at the door were the first part of his plan.

  He arrived in the kitchen and folded Randa in his arms. “It’s all right, baby. I’m here.”

  She shoved him aside. “Is that some idea of a joke? You send a really nice card and then fill it with that?” She jabbed a finger at the overturned box on the counter.

  Among the long-stemmed two-tone red-and-yellow roses were a dead rat and several large beetles. He released Randa long enough to wrangle the bugs, replace the lid, and set the package on the back porch.

  When he returned, she was no longer in the kitchen but curled in one corner of the sofa. Her head rested on her knees while she wrapped her arms around her shins. This was not how he envisioned this evening. “Randa?”

  She lifted her head. The utter defeat in her eyes broke his heart. It was as if someone switched the light off within her. He’d done this. Damn Matteo for being right, and damn himself for allowing jealousy to rule his better judgment.

  Lincoln crossed the room, trailed his fingers down the softness of her arm before he sat and tugged her close. “Baby, I didn’t send that mess to you.”

  She settled into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “I’m glad I was here too.” He stroked her hair. “I was missing you so much. I just wanted to be back here with you.”

  She tilted her head back to stare up at him, and he read the question in her eyes.

  “No, Jacqui had some things to do around the office, and that’s how I wanted it. I really need to think about us, the business, and where we’re headed.

  “I don’t deserve you, Randa. You’ve stuck by me when most women would’ve left and rightfully so. You stayed with me, and I appreciate that more than you can ever know.” He traced the outline of her lip before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You keep my world from spinning off-kilter, and I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

  She was silent a long time. What he wouldn’t give to be inside her head at that second. Finally she leaned forward and caressed his lips with hers. That tiny gesture spoke louder than anything she could’ve ever said. Such love and acceptance were in that all-too-brief kiss. It was as if she bared her soul and offered him her heart once more. For that quick kiss, he wanted to hold onto the moment and never let it go.

  “I know that now more than anything, Lincoln. Things between us haven’t always been the greatest, but I like the way they are now. I know you love and value me. And I’m so glad you were here with that flower debacle.”

  Relief coursed through his limbs at her admission, and he was happy he was sitting. He didn’t think his legs would’ve supported him. “Do you think you can stand a tad more excitement? I promise you’ll enjoy this surprise.”

  “Having you home is more than enough for me.”

  He held her close and stood with her in his arms. “Oh, but there’s so much more this night has to offer.”

  Lincoln mounted the steps. He loved holding his wife, and from the way she snuggled close, she enjoyed the same thing. He also liked that she wasn’t an itty-bitty woman, not some delicate flower who had to be pampered. Oh, he pampered her plenty, but Randa had voluptuous curves and a little meat on her bones that was just right for making love. And he wanted to make love to her. To see their two bodies entwined, his a faint tan, hers a creamy milk chocolate, in a dance as old as time.

  He nuzzled her ear as he stepped onto the landing and continued down the hall. “Tonight is all about you and me, sweetheart. I want to make love to you until your toes pop.”

  She giggled and stroked his cheek with her knuckle. “That sounds delicious.”

  He claimed her mouth in a breath-stealing, soul-searing kiss. He poured every teaspoon of love and passion he could muster in that one kiss. If nothing else, he wanted her to know she was desired, loved, and cherished, and he’d spend the rest of his life showing her with his body as well as his words.

  Lincoln maneuvered them into the bedroom, placed her on the bed, and followed her down. The scent of lavender and rose petals enveloped them in its seductive embrace. Candlelight flickered along the walls, lending an intimate air, coupled with the sultry love song crooning in the background. He’d set the mood for romance. There was no need to rush or hurry through this.

  Randa stared up at him with such love and admiration he wanted to savor the moment. He sat back on his heels and just drank her in, the way the V-neck button-up sweater cradled her breasts.

  Slowly he released each pearl button, fascinated by the creamy expanse of brown skin revealed. He brushed the garment aside and traced the frilly lace of her bra along the swell of her breasts. She hitched a breath, pushing that lush mound into the palm of his hand. He took that as an invitation to continue.

  He was thankful for the front clasp of her bra and held his breath when her bosom spilled free. Such beauty. Leaning forward, he blew first on one pebbled peak, then the other and watched them harden further. Randa shifted beneath him, and he placed a hand on her soft belly to hold her in place.

  He dipped his head and flicked his tongue over each nub. She sighed. The sound stirred a need so deep and primal he had to hear more. He closed his lips over her nipple and sucked it into the recesses of his mouth. Her moan of pleasure spurred him on.

  She gripped handfuls of the bedcovers, arching her back, seemingly greedy for more of his attention. He obliged her by fondling her other breast while he sucked and licked one until she whimpered.

  Lincoln dragged a free hand from her belly and shoved the knit pants she wore down her hips. He trailed openmouthed kisses in his wake, pausing to caress the sensitive crease of each thigh with his tongue. She threaded her fingers through his short hair and tried to push his head between her legs.

  He chuckled. “You are always so impatient.”

  She rose to her elbows and peered at him. “You always go too slow.”

  “It’s never too slow when I want to savor the pleasure of my wife.” He punctuated every other word with a tiny nip and lick. Still, to appease her, he removed her pants and panties and tossed them on the floor.

  He sat back a bit. There she lay before him, pussy glistening, ripe for the taking. Little bites dotted her body from his fervent kisses, and she stared at him with that dreamy love-struck gaze he couldn’t get enough of.

  “You are simply beautiful. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He shed his clothes without hesitation and stood naked before her. Passion leaped anew in her gaze, and his cock jerked in response.

  To hell with savoring his wife. Need increased his sense of urgency. He settled between her thighs, swirled his cock over the dewiness of her lips before placing the head at her entrance. There would be no slowness, but he didn’t think either of them wanted that.

  In one powerful stroke he entered her body. That singular moment of being complete washed over him, and he gathered her hands in his. She met and held his gaze. The love he read there drove him on, pounding into her welcoming heat
, taking all she was with him, and giving her the same in return.

  She thrust against him, her pelvis grinding against his. Her muscles tightened around his cock, nearly strangling his member.

  “Oh yes, just let go,” he urged.

  A few deep strokes and her body spasmed around his, clamping down hard and igniting his orgasm. She tossed back her head and screamed as her body shuddered beneath his. He embraced the tingling that raced up his calves, singed his hamstrings, and exploded from him in thick, hot spurts. His hoarse cry joined hers. He slowed his strokes and collapsed next to her on the bed.

  “I thought you said you were gonna go slow.” Humor filled her voice.

  “We have all night,” he promised.

  * * * *

  Late that evening, long after they’d made love for the third time, Randa was sound asleep in the middle of the bed. Lincoln stood on the threshold of the room, watching.

  He had to know who’d possibly intercepted the flowers he’d set out for his wife. What disturbed him most was the folded piece of paper he found in the box. He had a sinking suspicion Selena wanted to spend her last few weeks with him.

  Chapter Eight

  Matteo raised the heavy ceramic mug to his lips and blew across the steaming brown liquid. The rich scent of fresh-brewed coffee wafted to his nostrils, and he inhaled appreciatively. He glanced around the dingy diner.

  A thin greasy film coated the fixtures beneath the layer of dust. What wasn't covered in dust was better left unspoken. Cracked red polyurethane seats were held together with a combination of clear and silver duct tape. A few of the backless stools affixed to the eat-in counter had their metal footrests missing.

  Even the booth Matteo sat in at the back of the diner had seen better days. The tiled top was chipped, and corners were missing. Twice he had to remove gobs of gum from his elbow, until finally he pried the forgotten pieces from the windowsill and beneath the edge of the table.

  Once he’d made the area habitable, he sat back to wait for his contact. He could see the entire restaurant from his vantage point, and if things went south, he could sneak out the back entrance between the restrooms. The employees kept the locking mechanism taped over for smoke breaks. Dumb, but that meant he could leave without an alarm going off.

  The past few months were something he didn’t want to imagine. It wasn’t just the days that haunted him. A small measure of peace and sanity could be found to fill his days, but the nights—the nights were the worst. That was when his fears lay in wait and tackled him, when he missed Randa to the point of throwing caution to the wind and telling her the truth in hopes of absolution.

  He gulped hot coffee and swore when he scalded his tongue and esophagus.

  “You always pick the shittiest dives,” a good-natured voice said to his left, a mere foot or so in front of the table.

  Matteo wiped his mouth with the napkin and set his mug on the table. “Better to blend in with the rest of the people and see who doesn’t.” Matteo glanced pointedly between them. Matteo was dressed in a well-worn surplus army jacket, like most of the other men in the place, with a knit cap and fingerless gloves. His companion, Destin Maddox, however, wore a beat-up trench coat and bowler. The leather attaché case he carried drew furtive stares from the other patrons. “You stand out like a two-dollar whore in the high-rent district.”

  “Had I known I was going slumming, I’d have dressed appropriately,” Maddox said.

  Matteo grinned. “What have you got for me, Maddox?”

  The dark-skinned man removed his hat and placed it on top of the case next to him on the bench. He held his gaze. “It isn’t good.”

  Matteo hoped he kept a blank expression on his face. “How bad?”

  “When your file was accessed, which, by the way, I have no idea how that happened—it triggered a virus. This virus was designed to transfer any information the Agency had on you.”

  He didn’t want to hear all the details; he wanted the bottom line. “Who has the information?”

  “Reznick knows you’re alive.”

  * * * *

  Late that evening, Matteo stared up at the building that housed his apartment, the place he’d stayed for the past month. Not that he stayed anywhere very long since leaving Randa, but now moving more frequently was crucial.

  He needed to know how much Reznick knew. After the way things ended between them, this enemy would use anyone at his disposal to get to Matteo. He’d seen it one too many times during his stint in Reznick’s organization. Matteo had witnessed the man not only take down the individual who’d wronged him, but made the person watch while he tortured and killed his family, including any pets.

  Cold fear congealed Matteo’s insides. If Reznick found him, he would kill Matteo and wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to Randa and Lincoln or anyone else who happened to be in the Arnold home at the time.

  He took one last look at the apartment building. There was nothing inside he needed anyway or that couldn’t be replaced. It was time to move on and put as much distance between him and the Arnolds as possible and make sure he found Reznick first.

  Matteo turned. Movement from the corner of his eye had him jumping back. Pain exploded in his face. Already off balance, he lost his footing and fell to the pavement. A boot connected with his ribs before he could roll out of the way.

  Wheezing, he pushed to his knees and caught a foot to his stomach. He doubled over. Bile burned the back of his throat. Footsteps shuffled on the broken concrete. Two sets.

  He waited for the next attack. A deep inhale on his left. Matteo struck first, punching his attacker in the groin. The squeak and inhuman scream that followed filled him with satisfaction as the man dropped to the ground, holding his wounded pride. He’d be out of commission for a moment.

  “The boss wants to see you,” a man with a heavy voice like gravel grinding in a blender spoke from above.

  Matteo was grabbed and hauled roughly to his feet. Well, he didn’t have plans on meeting the boss. Matteo slammed his elbow into the assailant’s solar plexus. When the man’s grip loosened, Matteo swung around and met him with a punch to the face. The assailant crumpled, unconscious.

  Wiping the blood and sweat from his eyes, Matteo stalked to the man moaning on the ground. He nudged him with his foot. “It’s very simple. Tell your boss I’m coming for him.” With a well-placed kick, he knocked him out as well.

  He didn’t care how they found him, but he did want to know what they knew. He rummaged through the first man’s pockets. Wallet. Cell. Matteo thumbed through both and took the driver’s license. There was nothing of importance in the cell—not even a contact list. He walked to the other man and did the same thing. He didn’t have to look far. Pictures of him as well as Linc and Randa stared back at him. Panic seized his insides and turned them to ice.

  He had to warn Linc and Randa.

  * * * *

  With a huff, Lincoln tossed his cell to the bed. It didn’t matter how many times he blocked her number; she always managed to call. Twice now, Selena had shown up at his office, begging for forgiveness, and twice he had her escorted from the property.

  He hadn’t mentioned any of the incidents to Randa. He didn’t want to worry her, especially after the flower fiasco. Besides, his wife had enough on her mind without him adding the burden of his crazy ex. At least he had a handle on this threat and knew where Selena was at all times. Even though she denied any involvement with the foul floral arrangement, he didn’t believe her.

  If he had any doubts about the state of her health, each time he’d seen her, she appeared more gaunt. Her once-round face seemed sunken and skeletal. The woman was indeed sick but somehow managed to keep pestering him for money and protection. And he still hadn’t told Randa about Melodee.

  The time was fast approaching when he couldn’t put off the inevitable anymore. He had everything he needed to make Melodee a room in the back of the storage shed behind the house. He just hadn’t told Randa. How could he tel
l her after he’d forced Matteo to leave? Lincoln shook his head. He didn’t see how to tell her without causing more harm.

  If that weren’t enough, he still hadn’t isolated the threat to his wife. For one brief moment, Matteo’s words came back to him. That maybe Lincoln’s zeal to remove the other man had inadvertently created strife.

  He dismissed the thought. If anyone brought trouble knocking at his door, it was Matteo. The man was full of lies. A faint whimper broke his thoughts, and he shifted his focus to Randa.

  Lincoln swallowed the tight knot lodged in the back of his throat and wished for the umpteenth time that he hadn’t been such an ass. From his vantage point, seated on the corner of the king-size bed, he studied the drooping set of shoulders of the one woman who meant everything to him.

  Again that knot threatened to choke him.

  How many times had he caught her standing on the threshold of their empty guest room, just staring into nothing, like she was doing now? He glanced behind him to the open suitcase all ready for his shaving bag. No wonder she was so melancholy. He was leaving for a weeklong training seminar.

  His absences were more pronounced now that he wasn’t around.

  Guilt sliced his gut, and he bit back a groan. While he would spend the time away and see his gal Friday, Jacqui, his wife would be lonely and inconsolable without him—without either of them.

  Lincoln stood, straightening his tie. He moved with silence that defied his bulk. He wouldn’t consider himself fat, but he could stand to lose a few pounds around his midsection, but truth be told, he enjoyed his love handles, and Randa didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she snuggled a little closer to him. Lately, though…

  “Is it time for you to leave?” She hadn’t turned around, but the sadness in her voice ripped at his heart.

  He shuddered. Her continued pain was his fault. Her loneliness as well as any danger he put her in was his fault. Would Melodee bring her any joy? Ease the loneliness? He shook his head.

  Lincoln cupped her sagging shoulders, and she stiffened beneath his palms. Yeah. He was responsible for that too.