Sex, Money, and the Price of Truth (The Price Series Book 2)

by PE Kavanagh

  “What are you some Olympic sprinter or something?”

  “If I was an Olympic sprinter, I wouldn’t be breathing so hard, would I?”

  “Well, whenever you’re ready, I’ll be in bed. Waiting.”

  She sauntered through the middle of the apartment and into her bedroom without looking back. She heard him refill his glass and then he was there, on the opposite side of the bed. He put his glass down on the night table, then pulled his sweatshirt off. He pulled the string of his loose pants which fell to the ground. He bent over to crawl into bed when she stopped him.

  “Wait. Stand there. I want to look at you.” His body was striped from the street lights streaming into her window. She moved the covers off her and sat up to gaze at him, then swung her legs around so she was sitting in front of him.

  Her palms took parallel paths from the top of his chest, down. By the time she reached his low belly, his cock stood at attention, waiting for her grasp. One hand wrapped around it, while the other continued down to cup his balls. He groaned.

  She stroked him, moving the drop of liquid at the tip down over the head. “Does this feel good?”

  “Yes.”

  “Harder?”

  “Faster.”

  She followed his suggestion.

  “Aaaugh…”

  He slid his hand behind her head and pulled gently at her hair. She tilted back and looked at him. Then she turned down and put her mouth on him, her hand still stroking from the bottom.

  “Oh my God…”

  She brought him all the way to the back of her throat and his groans got louder. Her left arm wrapped around his backside, bringing him closer. She slid the tip of her pointer finger between his cheeks, tracing the outline from top to bottom. He began to shake.

  Her hand and mouth covered the entirety of his cock, now wet with her saliva. She moved her mouth off him just for a moment to ask, “Yes?”

  “Yes, Lola, yes.”

  She brought her mouth around him again and increased the pace. He opened his mouth in a growl that became a series of groans.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” He pulsed inside her mouth.

  Only after he had stilled did she move off him and look up. His eyes, closed at first, opened as soon as she touched his chest.

  “Lay down,” she told him and moved out of the way.

  He lifted the covers and laid his body underneath them, rolled onto his side and pulled her toward him.

  “Jesus, Lola.”

  He took her mouth passionately. She wondered if he could taste himself on her tongue. His hand slid inside her pants.

  She reached around and moved his hand out.

  “No,” she said gently.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Why no?”

  “Because I don’t need anything more right now.”

  “But, it was just me.”

  “Exactly.” She ran her hand over his face. "Sleep, darling."

  “Lola…”

  * * *

  She woke up with the feeling of his hands under her shirt. She didn’t remember falling asleep and had no idea what time it was. There was no sign of the sun in the sky.

  “I can’t sleep.” His voice was raspy.

  “Aidan…” she was aroused and groggy at the same time, not completely aware of what was happening. “Sleep, honey.”

  “I can’t.” He was much more awake than she was.

  “What do you need?”

  “What’s your favorite thing?”

  The question made no sense to Lola. “What are you talking about?”

  “Sexually. What’s your favorite thing?”

  She resigned herself that she would not be going back to sleep anytime soon. “I don’t know. Everything has been great with us. Everything.”

  “But, generally, what really works for you?”

  “What’s this about, Aidan? Do we really have to talk about this now?” Her fatigue was leaden.

  He moved his head above her, and she could hardly make out his features. “I feel bad that I didn’t get to reciprocate. After…”

  “Why would that upset you? Why would my wanting to have you in my mouth be a bad thing?”

  “It’s not a bad thing. It was an amazing thing. Incredible. But…”

  “Can’t that be enough?”

  “Is it enough for you?”

  “Of course. That’s why I did it. Because I wanted to.” She thought they were past their strange sexual interactions. This was disappointing. “I don’t understand, Aidan. It’s a blowjob. You’ve probably had hundreds of blowjobs in your life.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?” Fatigue gave way to anger.

  “Tell me what you want,” he insisted.

  He was clearly not going to let this go, no matter how displeased she was. “Fine. You want to know? Here’s what I want. Fuck me.”

  His head whipped back. “Fuck you?”

  “Yes, fuck me. Take charge, don’t be nice or polite or gentle. Take what you want. Release me from the responsibility of having to make decisions and explain anything. Do what you do best, Aidan.” Her tone could have cut glass.

  He took in a sharp breath. She expected him to say something, ask something, respond. Instead, he silently got out of bed, stopping to get a condom from the night table, and walked over to her side. He pulled the covers off her and sat her up so that he could take off her shirt. He pushed her gently back down and pulled her pants down her legs.

  Then he turned her over onto her stomach and pulled her hips back to bring her onto her hands and knees. So many emotions mingled inside her - excitement, desire, and a touch of fear. Did she know this man enough to trust she would be safe?

  He knelt on the bed behind her, put on the condom, and entered her. He moved forcefully, more so than he had ever done before. When she began to groan, he reached his hand around and slid his fingers between her legs. As he pushed into her, he stroked, inside and outside screaming. This combination dissolved her anger and trepidation. She called his name as her body shuddered into orgasm.

  He pulled out and she let her trembling body drop onto the bed.

  He had not ejaculated. This only came to her as she lay trying to gather her scattered emotions. The room was completely quiet. She didn’t know where he was.

  Lola sat up and called his name. No answer. She walked out of the bedroom, but could hardly see in the dark house.

  There was a form on the couch. The same couch he had slept on weeks ago.

  “Aidan.” Silence. “Are you not speaking to me now? What the fuck?”

  “What the fuck is right.” Venom coursed through his words.

  “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

  Nothing.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, Aidan. I thought we were past all the weirdness about sex. I thought everything was going great, including tonight. I’ve been thinking about…” This was no time to hold back. "I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since your first time in my bed. And now you’re mad at me for doing it. Is this another one of your rules?”

  Silence.

  “Fuck you, Aidan.”

  She walked back into her bedroom and got in bed. There was no possibility of going back to sleep, but she didn’t know what else to do. A man was sulking in her dark living room. If she weren’t so angry herself, she would probably have been crying.

  He came into the bedroom and began picking up his clothes. She lifted her head to look at him, getting dressed. This was not happening.

  “I’m sorry, Lola. I’m really sorry.”

  She continued to watch him walk out of her bedroom, and heard her front door open, then close. He was gone.

  11

  Secrets and Lies

  AIDAN THREW ON his running shoes and headed out into a sunless afternoon. In an hour or two the already-crowded city streets would be teeming with all the people trading offices and storefronts for homes, happy
hours, and the various destinations of their evenings. He bounded uptown, toward the southeast entrance of Central Park.

  Over the miles of curving trails, Aidan had solved many impossible problems. The relative quiet within the canopy of tall trees soothed his nerves, cleared his mind, and relieved the crushing weight of a situation he never wanted to be in. With each step and each breath, he traveled the long road of where he had come from, where he had ended up, and why.

  He fell into a rhythm, his long legs setting a brisk pace that matched the speed of his thoughts. The setting blurred into a comforting backdrop of green, a symphony of voices, and the cold air reminding him of time and place.

  He had learned early on that he was at an advantage. His appearance, intelligence, and eloquence had the ability to disarm nearly everyone he met, forcing them to reconsider their positions on race, status and power. He caught the glances from both men and women as they evaluated him. Even in a city known for its lack of casual connection, he pulled attention. Maybe this, which he had labeled an asset, had been the beginning of his undoing.

  A giggling boy ran toward him, followed by young parents sharing in his laughter. Aidan had discovered that, when used in concert, his unique set of traits could be deployed in the acquisition and achievement of anything he wanted. Worshipping wealth was not of interest. His mother had plenty and his father had none. Money was a means to an end, he had decided in his youth, an entertaining pastime he could enjoy without too much exertion.

  A group of teenagers whizzing by on skateboards forced him into an abrupt stop. An older man, impeccably dressed, crossed the path in front of him and Aidan, who might not have noticed him at all if not for the forced stop, tracked his movements. Everything was familiar about him. The style, the elegance, the signs of education, wealth and influence.

  Aidan had spent his teens and twenties studying and emulating this type of man. Like Aidan, the man stood tall, his plumb perfect posture likely honed through years of disciplined athletics and supported by the respect it garnered from men and the desire it elicited from women. This was what power looked like, and Aidan had mastered it.

  The man walked as if he had all the time in the world, tilting his head every now and then to look at something around him. His was the pace of someone who expected the world to conform to his timing, his needs, his will. While all those around him scurried, he strolled. Aidan began walking, matching the gait of the man in the dark blue suit. It was a timely reminder of the power of being deliberate.

  The world snapped from a frenzied mess to the clarity of sense and understanding. The ability to focus and rise above the distractions that left most around him dazed and confused had earned Aidan a lifetime’s worth of success. It was time to remember who he was. He slowed his pace even further and broadened his chest with a deep inhale. This time his motives wouldn’t have to include manipulation. He could use his strength for good.

  For at least a decade of his life, Aidan had been the consummate asshole. The memory washed a grimace over his face, shaking the newfound calm. It made him sick, now, to think of that person. He didn’t consider himself sentimental, but his keen memory provided ample opportunity to bring the past into the present and to relive each of the mistakes he carried on his back. He would have to make sure that that version of him did not return.

  The lyrical lilt of women’s voices approached him from behind and he moved to the side of the path. Three women, closer to his mother’s age than his own, passed him in the corporate uniform of suits and sneakers. Stepping off the trail onto the grass, he followed their progress with his gaze. Aidan smiled at the thought of his mother and how wonderful it had been to see her. What a lucky man he was to have had such an example of the best of humanity. If only he could be more like his parents.

  The past came rushing back and he made his way toward a wooden bench recently vacated by a young man taking selfies. The weight of his thoughts pressed him into the seat.

  The world bounced around him, as families, couples, and all the solo survivors of this demanding city crossed his view. He didn’t fear being alone, although it was rarely his first choice. Women came and went, friends were forever.

  He recalled the early heartbreak that had forged a certainty about intimate relationships and left him just shy of jaded. Her name was Melody, with curly brown hair and black frame glasses.. Recovering from her rejection was the first time Aidan knew for a fact that he was strong. Still, that crack in the structure of his world, which he had not yet learned to fully protect, left him unable to suppress the hope of a love that would release him from having to be an actor in his own life.

  As he stepped back onto the path, he dodged the strollers, joggers and bicyclists, challenged to find his stride once again. He approached the fork that would take him either toward the lake or back out to the street. He bore right, not quite ready for immersion into the bustle of the upper east side. A young couple entered the path ahead of him, hand in hand. An odd sense of relief replaced the encroaching worry about the situation with Lola. He swallowed hard. Truth was possible. Understanding was possible. Love was possible.

  He wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love with her. None of it went as intended. He had always been certain that his desires were greater and more consuming than those of other men, but getting lost in unbounded love had not been in his plans. Tall, strong, regal women - like his mother - consistently disabled his defenses. Until Lola, his discipline and self-control had always brought him back to a position of dominance and control.

  This time, he was way out of his depth. He should have known, from the moment he saw her at Kismet, that she would capture his attention in a way that no one else had ever done. But he didn’t account for that. Things had gotten much too complicated, not only with the anonymous threats, but now with his feelings. He knew he had to gain control over all of it and an impossible decision had to be made. Since the series of choices that had brought him to this moment could not be undone, they would have to be defended. He had no other option than to tell the woman he loved the extent of his betrayal and the farce of their relationship.

  Aidan made his way to the bridge overlooking the lake and leaned into the stone wall. The impending sunset painted the sky in the colors of flowers. There had to be a solution and he had to find it. He reached into his phone to pull up the email messages that had been guiding his actions for the past several weeks.

  Aidan

  I am pleased you have accepted the terms. Our contract begins immediately. Be at the morning location every day until you meet her.

  You will promptly begin a relationship with the agreed-upon constraints. I will let you know when to end it.

  Aidan

  Read the agreement. It clearly says NO SEX. Light petting, at most, only if necessary. You’re supposed to be the professional here.

  Manage this situation. Get it right or be replaced.

  * * *

  I don’t know your name, so I don’t know how to address you. Our deal is off. I'm not sure about your motives around this woman, but she does not deserve this manipulation. I will return your payments. Please consider this the termination of our agreement.

  * * *

  Aidan

  Not quite. The agreement is binding. Complete the assignment or I will publicly reveal your secret. I’ll let you know when we are done. Not the other way around.

  * * *

  I am not afraid of you. Do what you want. Our association is over.

  Why not reveal who you are and what you want with Lola? This is pure cowardice. I pity you.

  Aidan

  It’s unfortunate it had to come to this. You will be sorry.

  One day passed. Then two, then three. Her worst nightmare had come true and it was time to reorganize her thoughts. Aidan had disappeared as mysteriously as he appeared. She asked Jim and the writing team to put the enormous vase of flowers, now mostly dead, in the back of the storage room. She would have thrown the vase onto the floo
r herself if she could have.

  She was with Maddie on Saturday morning (after the Tuesday night) when his text came in.

  * * *

  AIDAN: Hi Lola. Sorry about the silence. I know you must be furious with me. I’ve been struggling with something. And missing you like hell. I need to talk to you. Can I see you today? Please. Love, Aidan.

  The look on her face was enough to scare Maddie, who grabbed the phone away from her. “Don’t worry I’ll answer the motherfucker.” Maddie began typing but Lola stopped her.

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “No. Don’t.”

  “Lo… what are you thinking?”

  “I want to know. I want to know what happened to him.”

  “Jesus. Your curiosity is not worth your sanity. That shit he pulled was psycho crazy. Please do not see him.”

  “I love him.”

  “You’ll get over it. Him leaving was a gift. Take it.”

  “You’re the one who said how amazing we were. That it was a miracle.”

  Maddie contemplated her response. “Lola, what could he possibly say that would justify what happened? I want you to have answers and maybe even resolution. But I’m scared you’ll be blinded by how you feel.”

  “I know, Mads. I’m scared too. But I need to know.”

  She typed:

  * * *

  I’ll be home by 3.

  * * *

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. That will seem ridiculous.”

  “I don’t really care. I want to see his face. I won’t leave you alone until I see his face.”

  “Maddie…”

  “This is non-negotiable.”

  They finished up their shopping, had lunch, then headed to Lola’s apartment.

  “Do a shot with me,” Maddie offered.