by Emery Cross
This all-American, chisel-jawed boy sure liked it rough and raw. The driving heat of his cock made me moan as he fucked me with a hungry desperation. As if he could never get enough.
My thoughts were too troubled, and I couldn’t find the oblivion of release. But when he came to a shuddering climax, I held him close. I didn’t know if my southern roots were to blame, but my mind was phrasing my emotions like a country song. “This is my man,” I thought, as I stroked his broad back. I knew I wouldn’t get to keep him, of course. He was meant for Veronica or someone like her.
Once we separated, I cleaned myself up, donned my all black outfit again, and layered on a few necklaces.
I turned to find him in jeans, pulling on a charcoal v-neck sweater. He looked mouth watering.
“You’re finally wearing the diamonds I bought you. And to what? Some punk club? That’s brilliant.”
“Nobody would ever imagine they were real.”
His eyes flicked from the necklace to my big purse. He’d put two and two together.
He picked up the phone. “Fitch, pull the car out. Miss Shay is ready to leave.”
“Oh, and Fitch, if you value your position, you’ll make certain she gets back here tonight.”
I unlatched the clasp and took hold of his hand and dropped the necklace into it. “You’ll regret this. I bet Veronica will be moving back in tonight.” I folded his fingers around the necklace.
“She’s never lived here. The relationship hadn’t progressed that far.”
I tried to wrap my head around that fact. “After two years? Now I get why she left you for a job in Europe.” I patted his chest. “Did it work? Did your heart grow fonder? I’m guessing yes, judging by the fancy dinner you have planned.”
“All Mrs. McCay’s doing.”
He secured my wrist and held it so that my hand was flat against his chest. I could feel his heart beating against my palm. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
I wrenched my hand away. I shrugged into my fitted moto jacket and zipped it up, then grabbed my bag.
“Babe, you’d better behave yourself tonight.”
I swung my satchel over my shoulder. “Oh, I think I can manage to stay faithful to you, Mr. Cade, for one and a half more days.” My tough chick routine was pathetically transparent. I could see realization flash in his eyes. He now knew he had the power to hurt me.
Read the conclusion of Rafferty and Remi’s story in Cade’s Property 4, Now Available.
