by Rie Warren
“It would seem. But a leopard doesn’t change his spots overnight, nor does a blackguard turn upstandin’ citizen. You’d do well to remember that.” He surveyed the square like a missionary sizing up the heathens. “I’m lookin’ out for you.”
The hell, you say. “And as I’ve said before, you’re nothin’ but a wolf in a sharp suit.”
“You don’t really know him.”
“Beg to differ.”
“He hasn’t told you, has he?”
“What?” I snapped.
“Why he’s indebted to me.”
I called his bluff. “I know all about his family.”
“No, my dear, I’m certain you don’t.” His poker face was formidably in place.
“And he’s your protege.” I shot my chin up with willful arrogance.
He talked right down to me, “Oh, it’s much more than that.”
“Do tell.”
“But I’m just the silent partner.”
How I wished that was true.
“I will let you know this. Reardon Boone’s been in many, many holes. And I’ve been around to catalog them all. Dug him out of the worst myself. You think you know the man?” His fingers snapped in front of my face. “You don’t know a thing, little girl.” His features turned even uglier. “You still think you’re gonna prove it’s not about the skirt-chasing, don’t you?”
I reeled back.
He slavered in my face. “Only thing you’re going to prove is Reardon is beyond rehabilitation.”
I smacked him so hard his chins wobbled.
Augie grabbed Slaughter’s wrist, squeezing tight. “Listen, son. You so much as look at my girl here with less than honorable intentions, and I won’t hesitate to get my boys on you. Now fuck off.”
Slaughter slunk away.
Augie relaxed his shoulders, patted his brow with a handkerchief, straightened his Panama hat.
“My boys?”
“I may be an antiqueerian, but I’ve got my connections.”
The adrenaline rush subsiding, I sagged against Augie. He tucked me under his arm, talking to take my mind off of Slaughter. “Back to matters at hand. When you gonna let Monsieur le Entrepreneur enter you?”
I tweaked his bow tie. “Very, very soon.”
August feigned a swoon.
* * * *
Later, when I rapped on Reardon’s door, there was no way I could quell the excited flutters in my tummy or the aroused humming below.
The door swung open; he swooped down for a kiss. “Hey darlin’.”
Did he use the sexy southern drawl because he wanted me to keel over? Death by eargasm.
“Mmm. Hi.” I walked past him, turning to check him out. And cue my end by eyegasm. Sleeves rolled over his forearms, nice smile, broad shoulders, hands at his hips framing The Stuff in case I failed to see the way his jeans hung on his...hungedness. “You look pretty.”
His face scrunched. It was cute.
“And kinda adorable,” I added.
“Pretty and adorable?”
“Well yeah, you got those gorgeous blue eyes and those really red lips I love to suck, and well, pretty.”
Proving a point, he rasped a hand over the dark stubble on his jaw, allowing for a nice flexing of large muscles. Bless you.
“And very, very manly.”
He grinned, slinging an arm around my waist. Breathing near my ear, he sent shudders down my spine. “You look downright delicious.” He caressed my bare shoulders. “Which reminds me, you hungry?”
“As in eating something nutritious?”
“Yes, Shay. Food, first.”
“Before?”
“Before I take you to bed, and make love to you, all night long.”
Alrighty then, bring on the chow, now.
“Want me to serve?” I giggled.
“Very funny. You made me nervous last week.” He swatted my ass. “Go have a seat.”
“You were nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“And tonight? Are you?”
He watched me hungrily. “No.”
No he wasn’t, he was in full fuck-me-now mode.
He advanced.
I halted him with a hand to his chest. “Food.”
“Yeah.” Glancing at my mouth, he hesitated.
“Reardon, if you don’t get the damn meal served now, we’re not gonna eat... Food, that is.”
Plating thick steaks and a green salad, pouring from a dusty vintage-however-many-years-old bottle of wine, he sat next to me. “How was your outing?”
I glugged an inch of the cannot-ever-afford-Zin. “The usual.”
“Such as?” He wasn’t used to being brushed off.
“Tomatoes groped, Augie wanted to elope with the newest organic veg-dealer, I bought-a-couple-plants. You?” I didn’t mention Slaughter. I didn’t even think about him. Not. One. Bit.
“Bought a company. Fired a few grifters. Talked with my realtor about some properties in Bermuda.”
Uh huh, the usual. “Slaughter come in today?”
He set his fork down. “No. Why?” he asked cautiously.
I shook my head.
“Shay?”
Because he’s a pain in my motherfuckin’ ass, and he’s tryin’ to worm his way between us. “I don’t like the idea of you workin’ with him.” Quickly working the let’s drop it angle, I brightened and brushed my leg against his.
The attraction between us immediately amplified. The rest of the meal was a matter of hot looks, intimate touches, and quick plate clearing.
I was on the verge of either begging for dessert–or beggin’ for dessert–when Reardon guided me to his bedroom.
There was no music, no candles, no artifice.
Only me and him.
Turned out, I didn’t want a wham-bam fuck either. I wanted Reardon. I wanted to make love too.
The way he undressed me was beguiling. Every inch revealed met with warm lips, hushed worship, his sleek tongue lashing my nipples until he stretched them between his teeth, and I came with his head buried between my breasts.
Each time he performed a new erotic feat–taking my calves to his shoulders, placing his mouth against my slit, lapping my clit, curling his fingers inside me–he was solicitous beneath the rampant savagery he withheld. “Okay?”
Unhurriedly, I let the clothes drip from his muscular body, drop to the floor. “You okay with this?” I parroted, teasing my breath to his sac and cock.
“Yes,” he groaned.
I licked and sucked and made love to his shaft until it was slippery with saliva, so hard and hot and heavy it thwapped my cheek. “Dick slappin’ me already?”
“Shay,” he moaned, the arch of his cock dancing across my face.
A clash of bodies and breaths, of heat and wet touch. Between my legs, he stilled his foray up and down the pink flesh he’d tasted, deviating to sink a finger inside me, thumbing my swollen nub.
I raised my eyes, hoping to see Reardon’s strong back bent over me, but the mirror above his bed was covered by a drape of cloth. I arched to the twist of his rough fingertips on my nipple.
Collapsing, writhing, I gasped, “No mirror?”
His long lean body settling over mine, braising my tits with his chest, my pussy with his thick cock, he grabbed my hips, kneeing my thighs open. “Not tonight.”
He asked a final time, rocking back and forth, “You’re sure?”
I was wet, open, ready for him. “Yes, oh please yes, Reardon.”
Biting his lip, he brushed the tip of his shaft over me before he entered. Bare skin to engorged surrounds.
I rose to my elbows, kissing his throat to his mouth until his lips went from a firm line to a velvety pout I bit.
One hand helping himself deeper, the other stroking my cheek, he caught his breath and grunted. “Oh, fuck.” Under the fan of lashes, his hooded eyes shone midnight blue. “Alright?”
I nibbled his earlobe. “Keep going.” The stretching was unbearably good, incredib
ly satisfying.
He uttered a thick laugh; the cliff of his tip sat the barest inch inside me. A full head my pussy clung to. “That’s the thing. I’m stuck.”
I flushed scarlet. “Well, this is awkward.”
I moved my hips and he reared up, screwing his eyes shut. “Wouldn’t exactly call it awkward. So hot, tight. Jesus, don’t move again because I’m only, ah…” Giving another push, he looked to where we joined. His dark, pulsing cock partly surrounded by the pink of my lips. “Only about halfway inside and about to explode. So, yeah.” His head sank to my shoulder. “Guess you could say awkward.”
“Little bit,” I agreed.
Another sizable stretch of his penis pressed into me, another gruff grumble, “Little bit?”
Trailing hands down his back, I squeezed his tight ass. I kissed him slowly. “Got your own zipcode goin’ on down there, baby, so don’t be sensitive.”
He chugged a hoarse laugh.
Which made me giggle.
Which made me clench around him.
And that made him plunge forward. “If you start laughing, you’re gonna push me over.”
Ooh, I had him so good.
I squeezed, and he gritted his teeth. “We don’t have to do this.” He twisted my nipples, tightening the bow in my belly. “I’d be happy to come on your tits again.”
Dirty talk, excellent. Always a crowd pleaser.
I looked down to the ribbons of throbbing veins overlaying his shaft, his tense groin muscles, his hand wrapped around the base of his erection, and the drop of moisture streaking from inside me over his cock. My flesh opened, pulling him deeper.
“You’re as turned on by seeing this as I am.” His thumb smeared the growing moisture around his cock. “Aren’t you?”
He guided himself into me, changed his angle and then, oh my God did that ever feel… “Oh yes!”
Reardon shook from head to foot and impaled me with several broad strokes before rolling onto his back, hoisting me astride him. I bent away from the collision of our kiss, moaning. “Oh, Reardon, you feel awesome.”
His chuckle hardly made it past his throat. “Indeed, uhhh, Shay.”
He was deeper, longer, harder like this.
I tossed my head back and yelled. Lowering my eyes, I reveled in the sinuous struggle between his powerful body and my soft curves, our hips striking, grinding, pumping up and down.
I grabbed my breasts as the tempo increased, Reardon spiraling into me with more force, his head thrashing on the pillows.
“You have any idea how much I’ve fantasized about...” His voice was rough. “Aahhh.”
I transferred my tits to his hands, and he grinned like it was Christmas morning before delving in with his lips pulling, tongue swiping. Bracing my palm on his chest, my free hand on the smooth weights of his balls, I turned slightly and…
“Yes. Reardon-fuck-fuck-oh, God yes!” I came, fiery tongues tracing my body into a taut arch.
Deliriously coming around, I was seated on his lap, his chest rubbing my aching nipples. The long pumps of his cock never let up as I kissed him intensely, moaning into each slow glide.
Arduous concentration masked his face, his eyes blue flames, his hands running wildly through my hair and down my back to my ass. Coaxing me, insistently fucking me.
“C’mon, Shay.” Finger knotted around my clit in narrowing circles.
The tendons down his throat and on his chest strived with a resounding roar. “Shay!”
Enraptured...enraptured.
Captured.
“That was...” I sighed, sloppily washing over his chin, landing dead center on his lips with a wonderfully wet kiss.
“Awesome?” He coupled our bodies under the covers, his hand belonging between my breasts, his thigh’s coarse hairs biting into my soft skin.
“Mmm, yeah.” Reaching behind, I caressed his face.
I pulled him closer to me.
The perfect cover.
He whispered, “Shay, I...I…”
I was well-fucked, thank you very much.
I slurred, “What, baby?”
I fell peacefully, completely, asleep.
Chapter 11
Family Business
I should’ve felt ashamed–at the very least, guilty–after making love with Reardon. Truth was I gloried like the cat that got the cream, a lot of cream, during the following days. Remorse niggled through, marauding minnows nibbling the healing edges of the wound in my heart. Because of Palmer and the plain home truth I didn’t know where this was going.
The only place I knew with certainty Reardon and I were headed was to McClellanville to his folks’ place.
I wasn’t even sure about this girlfriend gig, especially after our previous night together.
We’d been having a post-doing-the-deed doze. His toes had nudged mine.
I giggled and nudged back.
He leaned onto his elbow and nudged my rear with something bigger and harder, his expression wicked, but a worried tiredness ringed his eyes.
I’d needed to give him something to make him feel good, besides my rocking body. “Can I bathe you?”
“You want to?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
In the bathroom rivaling the size of my neighborhood, I reveled in each plane and muscle uncovered as he slowly released his dressing gown. Massaging his shoulders all the way down his back, I loved the way he sighed, relaxing inch-by-inch.
Kneeling down, I tested the bathwater. “In.”
He sat up to his chest, his knees splayed in the clear water because I was too greedy for the visuals to add any bubbles.
“Just let me take care of you.”
“Okay.” He’d been so damn unsure.
“Shh, baby, this is gonna feel so good.”
Kneading his neck, shoulders, and back, I’d soaped him down, enjoying the play of slick skin under my hands. He’d dropped his head, languidly shifting with my touch. I felt so much for this man who probably hadn’t been cared for since, well, I certainly couldn’t imagine something like this coming from his hex-wife.
I’d eased him back and there he sat, arms on the rim of the tub, body wet and sexy. I swirled the soap on his chest. “You know how you like to throw money around?”
He kept his eyes closed, a smile playing on his lips. “Mmm.”
“I could really do with a camera phone right about now.”
One eye popped open.
“Just sayin’, you’re my fantasy, right there. All soapy and hot and yeah, total Playgirl material.”
A pink blush colored his cheeks.
“And that? That is so...damn...” I closed in on his mouth. “Pretty.” I kissed him.
He hauled me into the water on top of him. “You know, I knew exactly what you were doing in the bathtub at DeBordieu.”
Oh! It was my turn to blush and his to tease, “And that’s just so adorable.”
Flailing in the dress shirt I’d put on, giving Reardon a perfect wet t-shirt shot, I’d struggled to free myself when he smoothly asked if I wanted to get myself off for him again.
Which I did, since he’d said please and all.
At his low-voiced commands to “Show me, feel your breasts, that’s right, ride your hand, darlin’, tell me how good it feels,” I rose to my knees. My pelvis jutted in his face, my fingers rubbing inside me.
His eyes trained on my grinding motion, he swiped his tongue over my clit, and I threw my head back.
The wild surge cresting inside me didn’t settle. He pushed me forward until I grabbed the tub’s lip, his fingers digging into my hips. “Need to be in you now.”
Water sloshed over the floor as his cock filled me. I held on and he pumped into me, his hands on my ass. When he’d pulled me up by my hair, his mouth hotly sliding along my neck, his finger nestled over my clit, I couldn’t...I couldn’t…
He’d hissed a long breath and pushed down on my hips, pulsing inside me.
His rippling orgasm made me come
again, sucking his final tight thrusts inside.
Slumping in his arms, I’d laughed weakly. The water–what little was left–did its best to calm down, overflowing as my heart.
“Funny?”
“Baby,” I breathed, “you make me feel like ten million butterflies are dancin’ around inside me. Makes me giggle.”
He covered my lips with a murmured, “Good.”
Yeah, it was.
Even better when he’d lifted me out for a long kiss and toweling off that lead to taunts traded and snaps of twisted terrycloth.
His chain had winked against his wide wet chest.
I’d reached for it. “May I?”
He dropped the towel and grabbed my wrist, his change of mood instantaneous. “No.” Placing my hand at my side, he took a few steps away, shaking his head at the floor. “Please don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” My fingers retracted to fists. “I should go anyway, it’s late.” All the fun had drained away with the bathwater.
Closing a hand over the pendant, he turned pale. “Please don’t go.”
“Think it’s best right now.” I sidled past him.
He darted to the door before me. “I know you want answers. I’m going to give them to you, I promise. Can we get through tomorrow, meet my parents first?”
I’d pulled my hand from the doorknob. “Why? Your folks scary?” Visions of a Junior League Madam Queen rather than a jam-jar packing momma worried me.
“No.”
“So?”
He peered at me. “It’s just, you know.”
I shook my head.
“Meeting my parents. I don’t, they haven’t, I haven’t…”
I hoped he didn’t get so tongue-tied in the boardroom.
He exhaled. “They haven’t met anyone since Leila.”
I nodded.
“Was that, okay you understand, or, yes you’ll stay?”
“Both. But only a little bit to the first.”
“Got it.”
“Good.” I walked ahead of him into the bedroom.
He followed closely.
Beside the bed, I whispered, “By the way, about overhearin’ things? I know what Temp said to you the morning after the party. About me.” I peeked over. “And you.” I didn’t add the ‘in love’ part.
Confusion crumpled his brow before he sucked in his cheeks on a long inhale. “I see.”
