As usual, Blackwell was right—the sheer attention I had to place on my book kept me distracted all day and left me so tired in the evening that I collapsed into my bed each night. Iris Masterson was indeed a workhorse, but since I also was, we got along famously. Each morning after I spoke with Tank, Iris and I would riff on whatever set of chapters I was working on. Then, I was set free to have at those chapters for the rest of the day.
And what a difference Iris had made to my book. Her observations and suggestions were spot-on. With each rewritten chapter I delivered to her, I could feel her excitement growing along with mine. With her help, my book was getting better. She was exactly the right person to edit my work, not only because she understood what I was trying to accomplish by turning the genre on its side, but also because she identified its weaknesses and walked me through them. I knew for certain that once we were finished—which would be in just a matter of days at the rate we were going—that I’d have a book that I would be proud of.
And so now, after every rotten thing that had brought me to Iris, I could easily say today that the lot of it had been worth it.
* * *
Later that night, when the evening was deep and my eyes were weary from staring at my computer screen, I started to fade.
Tank and I had talked earlier. Things seemed to be going well in Singapore for Jennifer and Alex. But God, I missed him as much as he said he missed me. When we got off the phone, I was so depressed that I just wanted to go to bed and recharge myself for the next day. But there still was work to be done. Iris expected a fresh chapter by morning, and I hadn’t finished it, so I decided to give myself another hour or so of editing and rewriting before going to bed.
I was thinking about how to change a section of the book that Iris had identified as perhaps the novel’s most problematic scene—and I agreed—when I heard a click coming from somewhere in the penthouse.
Or at least what sounded like a click.
I stopped for a moment, turned toward my open bedroom door, and listened into the stillness, which was interrupted only by the dim sound of traffic moving far below me on Fifth.
Had I imagined something? It sounded as if the front door had clicked shut, but that was impossible. Cutter was downstairs keeping watch over me, as he and his men had for over a week. And then there was the key card needed to access the apartment. If you didn’t have it, this place was so secure that nobody could get in.
So I shook the thought and went back to work, only to hear the unmistakable sound of a footstep a moment later. It was enough to make my heart quicken. Immediately my mind flashed to Kevin, whom I had described in detail to Cutter and his men several days ago, so that they were then able to use my description along with the photo Katie had sent to create an accurate composite of him.
What if Cutter took a bathroom break?
The doorman is there. Nobody would get past him.
But what if he was preoccupied?
Doesn’t matter. There’s no getting inside this apartment without a key.
But I could sense a presence. I was certain of it. Something had happened. Something had gone wrong. For whatever reason, I wasn’t alone—I could feel it in my gut—and it sent a jolt of terror through me.
As quietly as I could, I stood up, grabbed a pair of scissors off my desk, and moved to the center of the room. My bed was to my right. My desk was to my left. I stood there listening for a moment, and then said, “Who’s out there?”
“Lisa?”
Oh, my God!
I tossed the scissors onto the desk, and with a thrill that came from recognizing that thundering voice of his, I dashed into the foyer to find Tank standing just inside the door. Beneath his overcoat, he was wearing a black suit and a blue tie, and he had a clutch of red roses in one hand. There was a moment when we just looked at each other. Then, I ran toward him and leaped. He laughed out loud and dropped the roses to the floor as he caught me. I hooked my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his back, and he held me firmly in his grip while I covered his face and lips with a hive of kisses.
“What are you doing here?” I said when I pulled away. “I can’t believe this. I’m so happy. We spoke earlier. You’re supposed to be in Singapore.”
He grinned at me. “They closed the deal early, so we left yesterday. Jennifer lent me her key so I could surprise you tonight. She’s staying with Alex.”
“I thought I had an intruder on my hands.”
His face fell. “That’s not at all what I intended. Lisa, I’m sorry. I thought for sure that, at this hour, you’d be asleep. My plan was to use my cell to call you from the foyer and wake you up, and then ask you to meet me outside your bedroom door. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you. We just landed about an hour ago, and I didn’t want to go home without seeing you first. But now I’ve frightened you. I apologize.”
“Are you serious? I’m fine. OK, I’ll fess up. A moment ago, I was sporting a pair of scissors and was about to either pee myself or do some serious damage to someone. But now I’m in your arms. I can’t believe this. You’re here! It feels like a month since you’ve been gone, but it’s been just over a week. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
“If it’s even close to how much I’ve missed you, I do have a feeling.”
I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him with everything I had within me. He returned my kiss with a ferocity that he’d never shown me before. He was still holding me in his arms when he led me to the bedroom and laid me down on the bed.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
“What do you think?”
“But I should be in something pretty. Shorts and a T-shirt don’t quite cut it.”
He stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t care what you’re wearing—you’re beautiful to me. Get out of your clothes.”
“That sounds like an order.”
“It is.”
“Are you ordering me around?”
“You know I am.”
“Nobody orders me around.”
“I do, baby.”
“Like hell you do. Why don’t you get out of your clothes?”
“Maybe I will.”
“Maybe we’ll do this shit together.”
He couldn’t help but grin at that, but he quickly checked himself and stayed in character. “Why don’t we see what happens?”
“You’re on.”
I pulled my T-shirt over the top over my head, flung it across the room, and then dimmed the lights to a soft glow. “Your turn, but you have more clothes on than I do, so let me help you out of them.”
I walked over to him wearing just my bra and shorts, and tugged at his tie. I slid it off his neck and dropped it to the floor. I then took his jacket from him, and as the air stirred in the movement of fabric, I smelled his musky cologne. There was just a hint of it, but it was all around me now, enveloping me in that intoxicating scent that always reminded me of him.
I put my hands on his chest and felt the warm fabric of his starched white shirt, and then I ran my fingers down the length of his chorded abs until I felt myself start to grow wet with anticipation. I dipped my hands down farther, felt the full length of his erection throb against my palm, and then stroked him for a moment before I unfastened the top button of his shirt.
He kissed me gently on the mouth, and then harder until I could barely breathe. I felt the stubble on his chin, which nearly made me wild with passion. His stubble was rough against my cheek and then against my neck as he probed lower.
“How long is this going to take?” he asked impatiently.
I unbuttoned the next button. And the next. “Are you in a hurry?”
“I think you know I am.”
“I’m just letting this build. I’ve waited a week for this.”
I unbuttoned the last button while he unfastened his cuffs. When his shirt came off, it revealed a white T-shirt that I quickly pulled off him.
I reached behind my back, but then stopped.
“How about if you take it off me?” I asked.
His answer was silent and swift. In a flash my bra was gone, and then his mouth was on one of my nipples, sucking it and fluttering his tongue over it before going to the other one and doing the same. There was an urgency within him that was unbridled. I leaned into him, raked my fingers down the length of his back, and pressed him even closer to me. I was so ready for this, he already was bringing me to the edge. He bit my nipples and squeezed my ass. I arched my head back and his mouth went to my neck while his hand slid between my legs.
“Tank,” I said.
“You’re beautiful,” he said in my ear. “It makes me wild when you touch me. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
He kissed me with such a bruising intensity that I felt as if the leashes that had bound me for the past week had fallen away. Unleashed, I pressed myself against him until I felt all of him against me. I wanted to come. I felt the length of him against my thigh, and the sensation sent me to the gray edges of climax. He lowered his head to my breasts again, he cupped my sex with his hand, and then one of his fingers started to brush against it in such a way that was beyond erotic. When he bit one of my nipples, I came so fiercely that it left me trembling.
“Take off your pants,” I said.
Off they came, and they stayed on the floor. He hesitated for a moment, a silence stretched between us, but then went for it and stepped out of his boxers. He flung them aside and stood before me, naked.
“Now you,” he said.
I removed my shorts and my panties, and before I knew it, he was lifting me onto the bed. I felt liberated at that moment, completely free from the hellish week that was behind me.
I saw Tank eyeing my breasts with lust and desire, so I cupped them with my hands, using my thumbs to stimulate my own nipples. He watched me for a moment, and then his gaze traveled down the length of my body. He lightly kissed my stomach and then my breasts before he met my eyes with his own.
“I love you,” he said in a low voice.
“I love you, too. I’m so glad that you’re here.” I leaned up to kiss him, our mouths met in a fiery fit of passion, and then I laid back down onto the bed. “Let me see you. All of you. Show me.”
He sat up, and in the city lights twinkling behind him, I thought that he looked like a god. Just as he had admired my breasts a moment ago, I took in every inch of him now—especially those inches that were pulsing right in front of me—and as difficult as it had been for me to accommodate him at first, I nevertheless wanted him inside of me now.
But Tank had other ideas.
“Seen enough?” he asked.
Before I could answer, he buried his face between my legs, moved beyond my wet folds with his tongue, and made me cry out in ecstasy as he brought me to orgasm almost immediately. I was so turned on at that point that I felt almost delirious. My hands reached out and grasped the sheets. I writhed on the bed as the last delicious edges of my climax left me. And then I shot him a look.
“Fuck me,” I said.
“You want to be fucked? The last time you wanted me to spank you.”
“Don’t think I don’t want you to do it again.”
“Don’t think I won’t do it again.”
“Don’t think I won’t be asking.”
“Don’t think I won’t make your ass sting when you’re brave enough to ask.”
A surge of energy burst between us. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I reached up and pulled him toward me until our mouths met with one searing kiss. As we kissed, I reached down between his legs, grabbed his cock, and pressed it against the tip of my sex.
“Fuck me,” I said.
He pressed his lips against my ear. “So, you want to get fucked. Is that it?”
“Only if you’re man enough to do it. Let’s hope Singapore didn’t make you soft.”
I saw him smile at that, and I knew that both of us wanted to burst out laughing at this point, but we kept it together. This was all in fun, and thank God he was up for it. I liked a little role play—and with Tank, I had to admit that I felt safe to experiment in ways that I hadn’t with anyone before him.
“Fine, then,” he said. “Let’s fuck.” He swept me around and lifted my ass up in the air. “This might take some time.”
“What does that even mean? A few minutes?”
“How about a few hours?”
“I’m warning you—I could go all night.”
Unexpectedly, he slapped me on my ass. Before I could react, he did it again, this time so hard that the pain stung—but in all the right ways.
“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”
“I’ve been wanting something—I’ll admit that. But what you’re giving me is almost respectful. What are all of your muscles for, anyway? Are you afraid I can’t handle them? Do you even have it in you to really let me have it like you did before?” Apparently, he did. He slapped my ass so hard, it burned—not that I’d give him the pleasure of knowing that. “That didn’t hurt,” I said.
“The hell it didn’t.”
“Please. You’ve been gone a week. You’ve forgotten how I like it.”
“Really? That’s what you think?”
“If I’m wrong, then give me what I want—if you can even remember.”
And that’s all it took. After slapping my ass three times with the back of his hand, he gripped my hips with this massive hands, jerked me toward him, and then entered me with one deep thrust.
I wasn’t about to lose face now. So, despite the painful fullness I felt at that moment, I bucked against him, and I met his thrusts with my own. Then, when he leaned forward to pinch my nipples, I bit down hard on my lip. That act alone almost did me in, but I wanted the moment to build, so I slapped his hands away from me and kept myself from going there.
Only with Tank had I ever felt safe enough to explore my sexual fantasies like this, and part of those fantasies involved the control that came from keeping as silent as possible while he did his best to please me. It wasn’t meant to be a cruel gesture—Tank knew what I was doing. He knew it was a game. He knew I was just making him work a bit harder until I couldn’t hold it in any longer and became a screaming, wanton mess.
The thrill for both of us was getting me there—how long could I hold out before I just gave in? Tank was nothing if not an alpha-male over-achiever, and right now, with the way he was pounding into me, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to last much longer before coming again.
So I flipped onto my back, spread my legs in a wide V, and let him enter me again. I wanted to see his face when he came—and I wanted him to see mine when I came.
“Come on,” I said. “What’s wrong with you? Harder.”
He went beyond harder, so much so that the bed shook with each of his thrusts.
But I wasn’t about to let him think that it was enough.
“Don’t be such a pussy,” I said. “Let me have it.”
“You think I’m a pussy?”
“I think you’re a girl.”
He started to laugh at that, but then he stopped himself short. “Nobody calls me a girl,” he said.
“Do you have a better word?”
“I’ve got this.”
He withdrew from me, leaned forward to kiss me so that his tongue probed deeply into my mouth, and then he looked at me for a smoldering, wicked moment before his tongue slid deep inside of me again. He buried himself between my moist folds for what seemed like an eternity, and then he went for my clitoris. And he did that—when he covered his mouth with it and sucked on it until I finally gave in—I grabbed the sheets and climaxed with a scream.
But he wasn’t done proving himself.
With that, he entered me again, and the act was so startling that I came just as he thrust into me again. I pressed my hands against his chest for support, and I just rode him as if we were
one, which at that point we were. He was in charge now, and by the intense look on his face, he was enjoying it. I’d asked him to fuck me, and he was, harder than I imagined. I sensed that he knew that he could go even harder, but he didn’t. Instead, he just kept slamming into me with fierce, rhythmic strokes, but with his eyes were on mine to make sure that I was with him and enjoying this as much as he was. When he finally came, I came with him, I held his face in my own, I held him close to me while we shuddered, and then I kissed him deeply when we were spent.
“God, you’re fun,” I said.
“You’re wild.”
“I can get wilder.”
“You think so?”
“Take me again in the morning,” I said. “You’ll see.”
CHAPTER NINE
We hadn’t been asleep for more than a couple of hours when the telephone rang. I looked at the clock on my bedside table, saw that it was six o’clock sharp, and moved out of Tank’s embrace so I could answer the line.
“Hello?”
“Who is this?”
Confused by the question, I blinked into the morning light. “You called me. Who is this?”
“Who do you think it is? It’s Barbara, for God’s sake. At least my voice is recognizable. You sound as if you’ve been slapped around and drugged. What’s wrong with you?”
“Let’s just call it lack of sleep.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I see. And I think I know why. I’m glad he’s back, dear. But now you need to snap out of it—you’ve got an important day ahead of you.”
“What does that mean? I’ve got nothing on my calendar but working on my book with Iris.”
“Things change. Your contracts are in for the film option. Your lawyer approved them last night, and you need to read and sign them this morning. If there’s anything you want to discuss with him, I’d recommend calling him when we hang up. After the contract is signed, you’ll spend a few hours with Wenn’s publicity team so they can coach you on how to give a solid interview. They’ll offer you the tools you’ll need later this afternoon when the AP interviews you.”
Unleash Me, Vol. 2 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series) Page 6
