by Leanne Davis
He released her mouth and ducked down, and his mouth was hot and wet when it latched onto her nipple. His tongue came out to tease it. He tugged on it with his teeth and the ensuing sensations rocked her middle and made her sigh out loud.
Her hands became frenetic as she reached out towards him. She touched his waist and started pushing off the suit jacket he wore. She should have marveled at that. Chet, whom she had only ever seen in his black pants and the plain, white uniform shirt he wore, was sporting a sedate suit, entirely on par for the occasion, of course. She pushed his sleeves off as his mouth moved over hers. He had to release her when her hands pulled the fabric of his pin-striped, button-up shirt. Her hands shook and she let out a frustrated sigh, the tears almost bursting from her eyes. She could not get the stupidly small, ridiculous buttons to do what they were designed to do. She bit her lip, jumping when his hand rested gently on hers with an unexpected tenderness. He ended her useless ministrations and held her hand in his as she tipped her head upwards and their gazes met. His was dark, but unreadable. Trembling, she dropped her eyes back down. What was she doing? Why was she doing this? She should stop. Now. And for good.
But instead, she gripped the material of his shirt, making fists. Her head dropped forward against his chest, and she started to cry again. His arms encircled her, cocooning her against his chest as his hands rubbed circles of radiant comfort on her bare back. She felt his head bending forward as his lips touched the top of her forehead. The rest of her face was buried against him. She didn’t expect the gentleness of his gesture, the softness, nor the patience in his hold. Or letting her cry against him.
But not a word did he speak. And for some reason, his silence rendered her silent, even though she didn’t fully understand why they weren’t talking.
But her eyes burned so badly, it physically pained her to cry. She didn’t want to cry any longer. She didn’t want to feel that again. Not so soon. She couldn’t face it. She wasn’t strong enough. She leaned away from him and glanced upwards, looking confused as to why she was sharing her bed with Chet. But her confusion didn’t stop her from saying softly without crying, “Don’t stop.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Clenching his jaw, he gazed at her and it made her blush down to the roots of her hair. He was too much. So overpowering in his intensity, and yet she had no real relationship with him. That was more puzzling than anything else. Nodding as he pushed her back a few inches, his hands moved to his shirt and he undid a few buttons in rapid succession, making what she tried to do look so easy. Tugging it over his head, he threw it off. Her eyes blazed with desire for him. She nearly popped out with an exclamation. She didn’t expect this. He wasn’t a bulky guy, but slim and lean. Broad-shouldered, his toned muscles defined his chest and abdominal wall. Tattoos were scattered all over his skin, one on his shoulder that dropped down over his pec. Another on his side. He didn’t let her gander too long at his body, which she was lusting over.
He leaned forward and his mouth tugged on hers again so she closed her eyes, letting him hold her, and pressing her bare breasts against his chest. She moaned at the sensuously smooth feeling of skin-to-skin contact. On this day when she felt so vulnerable, and so raw, and so alone, his touch warmed something inside her she didn’t fully understand.
Then he pushed her back, and stayed upright as he grabbed her dress. He bunched it up at her hips, and started wiggling it off, loosening it from her bottom until he could slide it down her legs. When he finally released it from her, he threw it aside. That was fine. She saw where it landed in a crumpled pile. She planned to burn the dress anyway.
Chet returned her gaze. He was staring down at her body, now with only her white lace panties on. They were a dramatic and attractive contrast to her dark skin. His hand rubbed her thigh. It was almost with reverence, like he was taking a deep breath to prepare himself to touch her. Was he working up the courage to do just that? Huh? What? Had he thought about this before? With her? She had no idea. And it scared her to indulge such a concept so she shifted her thighs and his gaze popped back up to hers.
He leaned against her, kissing her as his body slid over hers once more. She couldn’t get enough of having him so near her. The warmth, energy, and body heat soothed something inside her. Something that was upset and hurting so badly and most of all, so scared. She was so scared about life now. And living. She worried about what could happen next. Either to her or to those she loved. She dreaded facing tomorrow. How could she? How could she face the coming week? Or month? Or the rest of her life? How could she survive the rest of her life without Ebony? Her best friend, her other half, her identical twin self. How could she go on?
As her thoughts overwhelmed her, tears again filled her eyes and fell even while her mouth was enjoying Chet’s. This time, it was a reaction to grief. No sounds, just tears slipping from her eyes. Her eyes blinked open and she was startled when his lips left hers to touch one side of her face. He kissed her trail of tears, doing it two more times before gently wiping her eyes. His tender gesture broke through something that was tying knots in her chest. She sniffed and a cry escaped her mouth as her arms suddenly wrapped around him, and she pulled him closer to her. It seemed frantic, as if by bringing him closer he could somehow fill all the hollow emptiness inside her.
His response was fierce, and his arms encircled her tightly as their mouths mashed together, never mind all the tears streaking down her face. Chloe felt so out of sorts and yet somehow, his presence and the way he cradled her like a frightened child made it tolerable. Almost. Splaying her knees, she moved her hips so he could settle more tightly and fully against her. He grew hard and Chloe could feel it through his pants. She moved her bottom, rubbing against him. She needed something and didn’t know what. But she needed it badly. She responded to every touch, kiss, and caress he initiated, which strangely enough, seemed to be what she needed most.
Her hands slipped around to the front of him, sliding down until she undid his zipper. The fabric of the black trousers loosened and there he was. Shoving the trousers slightly down, he lifted his hips while his left hand helped her tug his pants off. Eventually, he had to let her go. He turned and disposed of the pants at the side of the bed, halting only long enough to remove his wallet and pull out a condom.
Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she’d used one of those. During her last relationship of several years, they used alternate forms of birth control. Then it fizzled, shortly after her sister disappeared the first time. It was the only time really, but in many ways, the subsequent events made it feel like it happened twice for her. It felt just as raw today, and for the last nine days as it had three and a half years ago.
Chet turned back towards her and her interest was finally centered on what he was doing. Miraculously, her tears dried up, which was quite an accomplishment. He crawled up towards her, fully naked this time. His hands gripped the sides of her panties and he tugged them down. She lifted her butt and legs as he slid them off her in a slow, torturous journey. His fingertips glided over her skin, so soft and sensual, and so there but almost not. His mouth touched the top of her thigh, just above her knee. She let out a sigh of contentment when his lips touched her skin. It felt so respectful, reverent. That confused her again. What was this?
Not anything she ever thought about, not even once. But to Chloe, it felt like he was exactly what she needed right then.
His mouth moved upwards, warming her core before the wetness of anticipation made her heart pump hard and her blood rush. She whimpered her longing for him. He lifted his mouth off her thigh and came up towards her head again. She had to bite her lip to hold back an exclamation of surprise. But when he kissed her again and his hands touched her breasts as he tugged and tweaked her nipples, she was literally squirming this way and that in eager response. She gripped him tighter to her and tried to hurry him along.
Flinging her head back, she trembled as his hands trailed down her bare skin along the sides of her stomac
h until he cupped her. Now she was sopping wet for him. His fingers slid along her opening, going back and forth, as if he were washing in her juices. She lifted her hips up to his touch and her mouth popped open with a groan of sensual longing. His fingers found her tight nub and her blood churned and boiled as her thoughts scattered. His fingers were manipulating her clit and he dunked them deeply inside her intermittently. Her knees fell open and she pushed up against his hand. She ached for more and wanted it harder as her body yearned to feel something good. Her brain had finally checked out for the day and her grief, along with her paralyzing thoughts and fears, floated up into a kind of peaceful suspension. His palm pressed against her, responding to the nonverbal message her body shouted: harder, faster, and more.
She tossed her head back and forth and cried out when her entire body exploded into a rainbow of flashing colors. She fell flat, spent, and her knees fell apart while her body decompressed. Blinking in shock and the afterglow of sheer pleasure, she thought, Holy shit. That was intense. It felt good. Great. Amazing. She needed to go back there. After a day, or a week, or so many years, really, of sadness, grief, pain, and aching for someone who wasn’t still alive, for a few moments, Chloe was free of that world and its constraints. She wasn’t ready to return to it yet. Thankfully, his fingers, which were now rather wet, moved upwards and he grasped her sensitive nipples again. She grabbed his hand and brought it to her mouth, sucking on his fingers, and holding her gaze on his. The message was clear. Don’t stop. Her eyes were heavy with insatiable hunger. Want. And desire.
He leaned over, kissing her and moving his body on top of hers. She trembled with relief. His gaze penetrated hers and she gulped under his scrutiny. Chet never gave much away by his mannerisms, facial expressions or body language, but under these circumstances? Chloe couldn’t begin to fathom what he was thinking or feeling or how he reacted to anything, let alone… this. Sex. Between them, an employer and an employee. His driving stare was intimidating, but Chloe restrained a groan of dismay as she tried to analyze how this could be.
His delicious mouth lowered and he kissed her again. This time, it was soft and lingering, just his lips barely touching hers. She sighed at the delicate, languid sensation.
Her arms crept around his neck and she tugged him closer. Her lips began kissing his mouth, the side of it and his cheek. He relaxed at her touch and it filled her with a sense of power and loving tenderness. She knew enough about Chet now that any little sign from him meant something really big. No matter how small it was, any gesture or interaction was indicative of so much more. She felt him growing hot and hard before he prodded the side of her leg. She twisted her lower half towards him, eagerly seeking him.
Whimpering with desire, she ground her hips towards him. “Please…”
He instantly released her and she heard the distinctive crinkling sound of the condom being opened before he made quick work of putting it on. He tugged her back into his arms as she opened her legs. In one swift motion, she lifted her hips up towards him as he pushed inside her and slid in very deep. It was so easy and slick as her entire vagina was lubed and ready for him. She gasped when he filled her. Leaning over her, he stared into her eyes and stayed there for a long, profound moment. Her arms crept around his neck again and he lifted his hips and slid back inside her, repeating it over and over again. He started slow, and let the tempo build gradually.
Each stroke was slow and deep, but in the end, they both abandoned any sense of refinement or finesse. Their bodies responded as fast and hard as they could with the other. Sweat broke out over Chloe’s entire body and her eyes closed. She was happily lost in the alternate reality. Her pleasure lifted her so high, it took away most of the pain and hurt. When his mouth suddenly and quite savagely conquered hers, it clearly reflected how their bodies were joined. Her heart sped up and chanted yes, yes, yes. Fresh new sensations that were so good, hot, and sizzling suddenly ruled her body. They energized her. She finally pried her lips from his and tilted her head back before screaming as an unbelievable orgasm rocked through her core. She reacted so fiercely, her fingernails dug into his back as she welcomed all the gripping sensations that shot out of her limbs.
Her unapologetic release was followed by him and his body jerked as he pushed harder inside her. He seemed to bury himself so deeply into her, he would never come out again. He sucked in a deep breath without a sound. She was lost, her head was spinning, and her aching eyes closed. For the first time in a long while, a total sense of peace filled her body, flooding into her limbs and making her heart swell with joy.
Chapter Five
CHET BURIED HIS HEAD in the curve of her neck and stayed there for a long while, still and silent. Chloe had her arms around him and she kept him close to her, her hands doing lazy rubs up and down his smooth skin. It was soft and she loved the feel of it. Her eyes were closed in a daze, and her thoughts rambled.
But eventually, her body started to cool down. Her lower half started to tingle. Not aching, but enough to make her aware she hadn’t done that in a long time. She cringed now as the harsh reality started to slowly settle back into her consciousness.
What the fuck had she done?
And with Chet on the same day she honored and formally said goodbye to her murdered sister? What the hell was wrong with her? Imagining what her parents were going through about now made her feel even more guilty. And here she was, lying naked and satiated beneath a man she never dated or really even spoke to.
Crazy. That was her only conclusion. Her grief made her temporarily lose her grip on sanity. She would have never done something like that under normal circumstances or on a normal day, not even when her life was “normal.” She must have lost her mind. Grief must have drained all of her sanity and logic. She was reaching out for life and the living, and what was more defining in life than sex? Sex was how all life started. Could that explain why she did this?
Chet sensed something was wrong because he slid off and lay on the other side of her. He eventually got up and walked into her adjoining bathroom. Having never once set foot in this house, he walked naked into her bathroom. She sat up, panicked. What had she done? How could she?
He came out with one of her big, white towels wrapped around his waist. He splashed some water over his face and into his hair and she saw the beads of moisture clinging to the top strands. Tugging the covers over her, she slid up to cuddle against the headboard and stared at him while he stared back at her.
She shook her head. He was gorgeous. He was hot. He was all male.
He was also her busboy.
Her gaze lingered on his upper body before finally lifting to his face. He was watching her stare at him. She was ogling him really. His hair with its unique coloring at the tips was shaggy over his collar. A wispy piece dropped, almost as if it were styled, over his forehead, although it was just a natural cowlick, Chloe decided. His tattoos were brightly colored and she couldn’t take her eyes off them. She would have liked to spend a long while figuring out all the elaborate drawings on his skin. Chet was unlike anyone she’d ever been with. Well, considering she’d only ever been with black men, that was not surprising. But more than just his skin color being a contrast was his style. His punk look was the opposite of her conservative fashion. And she suspected that he might be quite a bit younger than her. She didn’t know for sure. She didn’t know his age or hobbies or likes or dislikes or if he were married with five kids or had… The list of what she didn’t know was endless. She knew nothing about this man. Even if they could have talked. Because he sure as shit never talked… so maybe they couldn’t…
“Do you—do you speak fluent English?” Chloe nearly slapped her hand over her mouth. It just popped out but she had to know. She couldn’t take this moment, or the pressure of it, or the stress she felt while staring at him.
He tilted his head, jutting his eyebrows upwards before scrunching them together in obvious surprise. Okay, probably more like shock. He must have been because his
eyes flashed with something close to anger and he folded his arms over his chest. Chloe felt the heat rising in her chest. Well! Excuse the hell out of her for questioning it since he never spoke. Not even while having sex with her. She sighed, her shoulders drooping.
“Do I speak English? Are you kidding?”
Her breath rushed out of her mouth. Yes. He did. And quite clearly. No accent. Not that she cared at all if he did, of course. It really surprised her because she had almost convinced herself he couldn’t.
“You never speak at work. Not to me. Not to anyone actually. I never hear you.”
“You’re the one who hired me. Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t. Your mother asked me to give you a job so I did. We didn’t even interview you or anything and Dok showed you what to do.” She dropped her gaze as the blush heating her face wasn’t from embarrassment now, but shame. “I think my sister had just disappeared about that time and I was distracted. Not functioning at my best or as I usually do when running the café.”
“She actually disappeared a month before I arrived. And you’ve heard me speak before.”
“I’ve heard you answer a few things. You only speak in sentences while conversing with your mom and that’s in… Thai, right?” She burned up more, realizing she didn’t actually know what language it was. Perhaps they spoke Chinese. She honestly had no idea.
“Yeah,” he grunted, standing at the end of the bed. Anxiety bubbled in her chest, threatening to overtake her. Oh, God, now what had she done?
“Why don’t you say anything to me about my sister? Give me some semblance of sympathy? How come you don’t comment on what is going on? You say nothing, yet you—you do this?”
