“Bitch,” he whispered without emphasis.
She didn’t know where the ornery imp came from. Maybe it was all the years of wanting him. Maybe it was that speech in the office, about professional relationships. Payback, revenge. She wanted to tease him, and make it fun. He supposedly liked it when his woman was with another man. Ah, but would he like it if the other man was better? Perhaps that’s why Ruby made all those comparisons to Bradley.
But hell, she didn’t want to think about Ruby now.
Looking up at him, the taste of his big, beautiful cock still in her mouth, the flesh right there, hers, all hers, she didn’t want to play Ruby’s style of game.
“I needed you, tonight, Mr. Blackwell. I wanted you. I thought about you kissing me, touching me, licking me, and fucking me, Mr. Blackwell.” His eyes smoked, the lines of his face tensed, and she picked up the condom package from the sheet where he’d dropped it. “I can’t wait another minute for you, Mr. Blackwell. Take off your clothes. I want your skin on mine.”
Their gazes locked as he unbuttoned his white shirt.
“You never wear a T-shirt underneath,” she said, reaching out to touch a round nipple. “Sometimes I can see them beneath the material. It’s so sexy, I get all distracted with whatever we’re discussing.”
As he threw the shirt aside, she leaned close and laved a nipple, his skin salty, delicious. “Oh, Mr. Blackwell, how often I’ve dreamed of this.”
He grabbed her arms, hauled her up against his body, and took her mouth hard, fast. “Miss Murphy, I can safely say that no woman has ever driven me to distraction the way you do.”
“Yes, well, you’re taking too long to get your clothes off.”
He was off the bed in one second flat. His pants were already unzipped, but he unbuckled and shoved everything down, pushing off his shoes at the same time.
He was magnificent. She’d been worried about being naked when he came in, exposed and vulnerable. It was why she’d feigned sleep. Now she wished she’d kept her eyes open so that she could see his reaction to her body, hoping it was the same as her reaction to his.
“Mr. Blackwell,” she said, a trace of awe sweeping through her voice, “I seriously think we should have all our meetings with you in the nude.”
He laughed, a sound deep from his belly. “We would never get any work done, Miss Murphy.
She gave him a steady gaze. “He was nothing like you, the man down in the bar.”
“How many times did he make you come?”
She counted the number of orgasms she’d given herself to get ready for him. “Five.” Coming was easy with a vibrator, but it was never the same as a man.
“How many ways?”
He needed this, the telling. Right now, she didn’t care. “One with his fingers, two with his mouth, and three while he was fucking me.”
“That’s six.”
Oops. “I meant two while he was fucking me.”
He put his knee on the bed. “Mine will be so much better.”
It certainly would. “Come here.” She tore the foil packet, positioned the condom, rolled it down.
“You’ve had practice.”
She tipped her head and smiled. “Do you want to know how many men I’ve had?”
His eyes smoked again. “Yes.”
She could count them on two hands. “It’s hard to say. Fifty, I think.”
He raised one brow. “Fifty?”
She cupped his balls. “I love men. I love fucking. I love tasting a new cock.” Then she squeezed until he groaned. “And I want this cock inside me. I’ve waited long enough, Mr. Blackwell.”
She rolled to her back and held her hands out to him. He came right into her arms.
* * * * *
She took him deep, and it was like coming home. He’d had hot, down-and-dirty sex with Ruby after her nights out. This was somehow beyond the mere physical, stripping him of all control, all rationality. No, it was more than that, in a way he couldn’t explain even to himself, except to say that Jessica fit him so perfectly, he could have sworn she was made for him, her body tight, her scent sweet, her skin hot along his.
He held still a long moment, her engulfed him. “Let me savor this,” he whispered. He loved that she had taken another before him, and yet he was still what she needed most.
He pulled back to bracket her face with his hands. She was so delicate beneath him. “I never do it missionary,” he murmured.
“I like your weight on me,” she said, rising up to touch her nose to his, then her lips to his mouth. “I want a real man on top of me.” Then she said the words without sound, “Now take me.”
He moved slowly at first, her body accommodating his girth but still tight. “You feel like heaven.”
“Yes.” She stroked the hair at the back of his neck as he thrust harder, deeper.
“Christ, you’re so tight.” He kissed her until he couldn’t breathe, then took her in earnest, plunging deep. Her skin grew moist, accentuating the sensual haze of come, and he dipped his head to lick her chest.
“Christ.” The push-pull of desire and jealousy, need and fear plummeted him into another realm. She was his; he could never keep her. She had to have him; tomorrow it could be another.
“Oh God, Clay.” She dragged him to the stars with his name on her lips. His name. His cock. Her body contracted around him, and he poured himself into her, pumping, pounding, taking, needing.
When he came down off the high, he was crushing her. When he tried to move, she held on.
“No, don’t move yet,” she whispered.
So he stayed, though he slid to the side slightly to avoid smashing her.
She petted his face. “You were so much better,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t matter.” In that moment, he’d wanted those warring emotions. Now he simply wanted the feel of her. Her skin was damp, her hair a sexy mess, her makeup nonexistent. They lay like that until he started to feel the air conditioning and reached for the sheet.
“I better go.” She disentangled.
He’d assumed she would stay the night in his bed. But there was Ruby. He had no right to ask Jessica to stay. He’d had no right to what he’d taken tonight. But he wouldn’t regret it.
He pulled out of her, ignoring the ache. “I’ll walk you down.” He climbed off the bed, padding to the bathroom where he disposed of the condom.
He’d wanted her to sleep in his arms. As if there weren’t so many things standing between them. He’d lost his head—no, he couldn’t say that—he’d chosen. But he should have waited.
When he returned, she already had her skirt on and was buttoning her blouse. He grabbed his briefs from the pile on the floor at the end of the bed. He thought of all the things he should say as he donned his clothes, then sat on the end of the bed to tie his shoes.
But he couldn’t say anything while Ruby was between them.
“You really don’t need to walk me down,” she said.
“Yes, I do,” he insisted.
“Fine.” She fumbled at the side table, grabbing only the vibrator and leaving the rest.
He hadn’t used it on her. Christ, he would have loved that.
“Jessica.”
“I’m really tired.” She didn’t look at him.
Fuck. Everything had gone to shit. In the heat of the moment, it was perfect, then bam, it was all downhill from there.
The card key was in his pocket as he closed the door behind them. She pushed the elevator button. They were silent as they waited, and silent as they rode it down.
The lobby was loud and full of business people. He glanced at his watch, surprised to find that it wasn’t even nine yet. She hurried. He didn’t let her get away.
Dammit, he couldn’t let her leave this way. They needed to talk. He needed to tell her about Ruby. He had to—
A man stepped into their path. The guy from the bar, the one she’d taken upstairs. “Hey, sweetheart. I told you I’d be back after I had dinner.”
He smiled at Jessica. “And I’m all ready for you.” Then he winked at Clay. “Unless you’ve got another customer.”
“You’ve already had her,” Clay growled. He was no longer in the mood for this. “Once per night is enough.” He moved to shove the guy out of the way.
“Not yet, I haven’t. I’ve never done this, and I find the idea intriguing.” He patted his back pocket, then lowered his voice. “But we haven’t discussed price yet. Since you’re her pimp, do I negotiate with you?”
Chapter Fifteen
Oh shit. Jessica stood frozen. Dammit, she’d forgotten all about Mitch. Not that she’d figured he’d still be hanging around. His dinner engagement had sounded like an excuse to get away from her.
Finally, Clay said, “Her pimp.” His gaze flashed from her to Mitch and back to her once more. “I’ve never been referred to in quite that way before, but I suppose it fits.”
“So how much?” Mitch asked, and if Jessica wasn’t mistaken, there was a glint his eye.
“For an hour? Or the whole night?” Clay asked dryly.
“Why don’t you give me a quote for both?” Mitch answered.
Holy hell, could anyone hear them? She glanced around to find they were just another gathering of business professionals no one else cared about.
Clay considered it all seriously. “One thousand for an hour. But I’ll give you a deal on the whole night at only three thousand.”
Jessica felt her jaw drop.
“That’s a lot of money,” Mitch mused, passing his gaze over her from head to foot.
“She’s worth it,” Clay answered simply.
When she’d said it was time to go, he hadn’t asked her to spend the night with him, yet now she was worth three thousand dollars. She didn’t know whether to be offended or giddy.
Mitch put up two hands in surrender. “I don’t have that much cash on me.”
“We take credit cards.” Clay’s expression remained flat.
This time Mitch actually laughed. “I don’t have that much credit either.”
Jessica couldn’t stand it anymore. “Oh come on, you both know this is a joke. I’m sorry, Mitch, but I made up all that stuff about being a working girl.”
She liked his smile as he said, “I realized that, but I couldn’t help myself. Just had to join in your fun. That’s some role-play you two have going.”
“Yes,” Clay agreed dryly. “It seems she’s very good at making up stories.”
“I’m really going to have to try that one sometime.”
“Right,” Clay said with a snap on the ending t. “Now we must be going.” With an unrelenting grip on her arm, he propelled her toward the lobby entrance, leaving Mitch chuckling.
For something that could have been extremely embarrassing, that wasn’t so bad.
“Where’s your car?” Clay’s tone was too sharp, since they’d left Mitch behind.
“Over there.” She pointed down an aisle. “You’re dragging me,” she added, when he didn’t drop her arm.
Clay didn’t seem to care.
“What’s wrong?” Had Mitch somehow pissed him off?
He stopped by the trunk of her car, letting her go at last. “You lied,” he accused.
She was surprised by the heat of anger in his eyes. She could understand him being miffed, but this was far more. “Because I told him I was a hooker? It was a lark.” All right, she knew that wasn’t his issue.
“He didn’t fuck you. Nobody did. Why the hell did you set up the room?”
“Because I thought you’d like it.” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. “But I didn’t want to screw some man I didn’t know just to get your interest.”
“You had my interest. You didn’t need to lie.”
This was by far the strangest argument she’d ever had with a man. He was actually angry because she hadn’t fucked another guy. “You liked what we did. I don’t understand what’s wrong.” Except that she’d come here to seduce him. He hadn’t invited her. He hadn’t even expected her. She’d enticed him. He’d taken the bait. But once it was over, he didn’t ask her to spend the night. He wanted her only when he thought she’d been with someone else. The three times he’d touched her, it had always been with the scent of another man’s come on her.
What’s wrong with this picture, Jessica?
She was a fool.
“What about the come? You tasted like come,” he snapped, ending each word harshly.
She suddenly saw how bad it looked. She’d wanted him, set out to seduce him, and used Vince to trick him. “My friend,” she admitted, feeling sick that she’d been so conniving. “I went to him before I came here.”
“And he fucked you?” The parking lot lights gleamed behind him and left his face in shadow.
“No. I sucked him, and he came on me.”
“He didn’t even give you an orgasm?”
“That wasn’t the point. I wanted you to smell him the way you did in your office.” Because it had made him wild. “You liked it. What’s the difference now?” Though she understood the difference.
He was silent, as if the lengths she’d gone to in attempt to seduce him had left him speechless. So she told him everything, because what the hell, she was already humiliated. “I overheard you telling Holt where you were staying, and I wanted you to see that I could be better for you than Ruby. She doesn’t deserve you.”
“So you lied,” he said softly. “Just like she does.”
She couldn’t deny it. She hadn’t played the game the way she was supposed to, and she’d disappointed him. She’d blown his expectations. He wanted what he wanted the way he wanted it. He’d never hidden that, and she didn’t measure up. She wasn’t sure she ever could.
Jessica couldn’t even look at him. She could only listen to the sound of his footsteps as he walked away.
* * * * *
Ruby hid in an alcove until Clay had crossed the lobby and punched the elevator button.
What the hell?
She’d arrived just before nine. She was going to talk to him, and he was damn well going to hear her out. She could explain about Bradley.
But there he was, getting off the elevator with little Miss Perfect Jessica Muffet. They’d been upstairs. With that sexy black skirt and blouse—not to mention the fuck-me heels—they certainly hadn’t been discussing the quarterly financials. Clay was in shirt sleeves and slacks. Where was his tie, his jacket?
Ruby felt steam blowing out her ears.
He disappeared into the elevator, flanked by a couple and another businessman. She could follow him. He’d called her with the hotel and room number, so she knew where he was if she absolutely needed him. Absolutely. His word. Like she’d better have a damn good reason.
Damn him. She was not going up to his room to beg. No, the situation called for more planning before she acted.
All right, so she’d told him to give her a little payback, fine and dandy. She hadn’t expected him to do it, but if he did, it certainly was not supposed to be with Jessica Murphy. She couldn’t do Bradley because he worked for Clay, but he was allowed to do Jessica? The woman was smart, good at her job, a veritable paragon in Clay’s eyes. How could he choose her?
Maybe that was the whole point. He’d picked the worst possible candidate for his revenge fling. The one woman that would hurt Ruby the most.
Ruby wanted to cry. She wanted to scream.
She wanted to pay little Miss Muffet back tenfold.
* * * * *
Clay stared at the mess in his room. The bedclothes were torn apart. Condom wrappers, lube, towels in the bathroom. And the scent of sex filling the air. Her sex, his sex. Theirs. Together.
She’d gone to a lot of trouble. She’d set the scene down to the last detail, thought of everything, even visited her fuck buddy first to cover herself in come. She’d staged the pickup, pulled it off flawlessly, and he’d believed.
It had been perfect. He’d never had a woman put so much thought int
o providing the scenario she thought he wanted.
But the lie stuck in his craw. She could have come to him straight from her fuck buddy. If she lied about this, she could lie about anything. Like Ruby.
He grabbed the waste basket and began tossing the detritus of their session. He hung the robe back on its hook. She’d even run the shower to make it look like her lover had used it before leaving. Such a painstaking plan, but it was an elaborate lie.
Yet could he really say she was like Ruby?
Ruby’s lies were about herself, about what she wanted. A justification to fuck who she wanted when she wanted and where, including his desk. She had done it to humiliate him or one-up him.
Jessica had done everything to please him. He’d started it all in his office. He’d touched her, wanted her. And tacitly granted permission to try more. She’d straddled the fence, giving him what he wanted without compromising herself by screwing someone she didn’t know. She’d told him she’d had close to fifty men—far from the truth, he realized now. But as with everything else she’d done, she’d attempted to give him exactly what he wanted. Anticipating his needs, she’d said and done all the things she thought would make it best for him.
It was simple for Ruby; she’d picked up countless men. And lies were just as easy for her.
Jessica was in a completely different class. Her solution to the dilemma was better than anything he could have expected. He would never have known it wasn’t real if the guy hadn’t approached them afterward.
Yet it could never work for so many reasons. She couldn’t keep on playing to his needs when it wasn’t in her nature. He couldn’t ask that of her. She was also his subordinate. It was compromise they couldn’t make.
Then there was Ruby. No matter what else she’d done, she’d given him three good years, and he felt like the total fuck-up in the situation. He’d done things with Jessica he never should have while Ruby still lived in his house.
There was only one choice to be made. He’d known it since the day he’d found Ruby and Bradley in his bed.
Revenge Sex: A West Coast Hotwifing Novel, Book 1 Page 10
