Immersed In Pleasure/Submit To Desire (The Original Sinners Pulp Library)

by Tiffany Reisz

  “So he didn’t…?”

  “No. He didn’t.”

  Derek heaved a sigh of relief and prayed Xenia wasn’t lying just to keep him from killing her boss. “If he made you spread your legs for him, would you have?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

  Xenia looked at the ceiling. “He’s seen it before.”

  “So that’s a ‘yes’?”

  “It’s the price you pay for working here.”

  “It’s worth it?” he asked.

  Slowly, Xenia nodded. “It’s my home.”

  A cold, miserable realization settled into Derek’s mind and sunk into his stomach. “You really love this place. And I can’t ask you to leave it. But if I stick around, something’s going to happen and they’ll make you.”

  “Derek, I don’t want to leave. But I don’t want to lose you either. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel with you.”

  “And I’ve never, God, I was married, Xenia, and I never felt anything like this. I threatened to kill Kingsley Edge. I must have a death wish.”

  “It was impressive. I think he likes you even more now. I do too.”

  Derek rubbed his face. “I can’t do this. I can’t put you in the position to choose between this place you love and some guy you barely know.”

  “Don’t be like this. We can figure something out. We can—”

  “What? What can we do?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  Derek squeezed his eyes shut tight. He pulled out his wallet and dug out his business card. “Here. It’s got all my numbers on it. When you decide to leave here, call me. I’ll come running. But I won’t put you in this position again. I’m sorry,” he said.

  Xenia looked down at the card in his hand but didn’t take it.

  “Do you know how men have tried to give me their business cards?” she asked, her eyes going cold, her voice hollow. “More than I can begin to count. Do you know what I did when they offered me their business cards?”

  Derek swallowed hard. “No.”

  “I did this.” Xenia dropped her towel, walked to the edge of the column, and dove into the water. Dove in and dove deep and showed no sign of coming back up for a long time.

  “And that,” Derek said, finishing his drink off, “is the end of my story.”

  “Whoa, there. No way,” Mark said. “She never gave you her mermaid?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Derek stood up and tossed a hundred on the table. “And now it’s almost midnight and I’m about to turn into a pumpkin.”

  “Get your ass back here and finish the story, Derek.”

  “I already told you, that’s the end. See you at work on Monday.”

  Smiling to himself, Derek left Mark and Christian cursing him. On the way to his apartment, he remembered how he felt that moment Xenia slipped away from him, when she dove into the pool and turned into nothing but foam on the surface of the water. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t even take his card…but then he realized what giving her his business card meant—it meant he wouldn’t see her anymore unless she’d have sex with him. And the ache in his heart at the thought of never seeing her again trumped the ache in his body at the chance they’d never make love.

  So he’d done the only thing a man could do when in love with a mermaid who was swimming away from him. He dove in after her. Even underwater, he saw her eyes go comically wide. She raced to the surface, where Derek was treading water, clinging to the side of the pool.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m an idiot. I can’t ask you to leave your life here, but I don’t want to lose you. So let’s stay together and see if we can work.”

  “Derek, I can’t be with you the way you want me to be and stay here.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said, meaning every word. “When you’re ready, we’ll go for it. Until then, I’ll just take a lot of cold showers. Starting right now. This water is fucking freezing.”

  “Keeps the nipples hard,” she said, grinning. “You really mean it?”

  “Take all the time you need. I just want to be part of your world. I need you in my life any way that works for you.”

  “And I need you in my life.”

  “And I need you out of my pool,” said a voice from above them. Derek looked up and saw Kingsley glaring down at him from the edge of the water. “S’il vous plait.”

  After they’d dried off, Xenia, Derek, and Kingsley had a long talk. Xenia could continue to work at Fathoms and see Derek as long as they didn’t have intercourse. Technical virginity was good enough for Kingsley. “I am French after all,” he reminded them.

  And Kingsley agreed to allow one of the other mermaids to handle Xenia’s rubdowns and virginity checks, which Derek already looked forward to watching.

  “You’re a fool, Monsieur,” Kingsley warned Derek. “So many beautiful girls in the city who would willingly dive into your bed. And you give that up.”

  “I don’t want a girl. I want a mermaid.”

  Derek arrived at his apartment still smiling at the story he’d told Mark and Christian. As he put the key into his lock, Derek spied a small puddle of water outside his door.

  Opening the door, he found Xenia inside wearing the white skirt and cami he’d first seen her in.

  She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “Happy anniversary.”

  “One year,” he said, kissing her deep and slow. “Seems like yesterday.”

  “It’s not the only anniversary we have to celebrate today.”

  “Really? What’s the other one?” he asked, gently playing with the mermaid pendant that still hung around her neck.

  “Today is the two-week anniversary of me putting in my two-weeks notice at Fathoms.”

  Derek only stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m ready. Not just for you but for everything. Life. School maybe. The real world. And I’m ready for this.”

  Slipping her hands behind her neck, she unclasped her mermaid pendant and laid it in the palm of Derek’s hand.

  “I can’t accept this gift,” he said solemnly.

  Xenia’s eyes fell. “Why not?”

  “It’s too precious for you to just give it away.”

  “But—”

  “How about a trade?”

  Derek reached into his pocket and pulled out a large, shimmering sapphire and diamond ring—sapphire, the color of the ocean, the color of Xenia’s eyes.

  Kneeling down on one knee, Derek opened his mouth but Xenia gave him no chance to speak. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder.

  “This is a ‘yes,’ right?” he asked, trembling.

  She nodded, but no words came out.

  “We can wait as long as you want,” he said. “For the wedding. For sex. Whatever you want.”

  “I want you,” she whispered as he slipped the ring on her left hand. “Tonight.”

  Derek took her in his arms and carried her into his bedroom. He hadn’t even let himself hope this would happen tonight. The past year had been a lesson in endurance for him. Some nights, he wouldn’t even let her come over because the need in him burned too hotly. But after a few months, she ceased to be an object of sexual obsession and became instead his closest friend. With sex off the table, they had to improvise. They talked for hours, went for walks, went dancing. Derek finally learned how to beat her in Go Fish—he cheated just like she did. He learned she loved the Go-Go’s and white chocolate and could speak French and Persian fluently. She started to go out more. Six months ago, she had started giving swimming lessons at a local gym. Last month, he met her parents. Last week, she met his. And next week she’d finally get to meet Mark and Christian.

  They hadn’t been saints during the past year, of course. Not even his ex-wife or Ireland knew his body as well as Xenia did now. Her nimble fingers and full lips and tongue could send him to the heights of erotic ecstasy. And with his mouth and one finger, he could make her wake the nei
ghbors. Tonight he wanted to make her wake the whole town.

  Derek laid her back on the bed and slowly undressed her. Even after a year with his little exhibitionist mermaid, he never ceased to be moved by the sight of her naked curves. He kissed her lips, her neck and chest. She dug her hands into his hair as he took a nipple into his mouth as his hand sought her other breast. He wanted their first time together to be as painless as possible. He wanted her wet inside and aching for him.

  “Derek, please,” she begged.

  “Patience,” he teased. “You made me wait a year. It’s only fair I make you wait a few more minutes.”

  Still dressed, Derek spread her legs and sat between her open thighs. He opened her folds and slipped a finger into her. As usual, she sighed blissfully and lifted her hips to take him in deeper. For the first time ever, Derek turned his hand and pressed a second finger inside her. He felt the barrier of her virginity against his fingers.

  “Tell me if it hurts,” he said softly.

  “Feels wonderful.”

  He took her clitoris between his thumb and index finger and gently massaged it. Xenia’s head fell back in pleasure while Derek pushed down on her hymen. He put both thumbs in her, gripped her hips, and pulled her wider open. Bending over her, he took a nipple in his mouth again and sucked deeply while he slowly pushed a third finger into her. He wanted her on the edge of orgasm when he penetrated her the first time.

  “Derek….” she groaned.

  Derek pressed his forehead to hers. “Xenia, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Xenia laid her hand on the side of his face. His fingers still rested deep inside her.

  “Your tail will then disappear,” Xenia quoted softly, meeting Derek’s eyes. “And shrink up into what mankind calls legs, and you will feel great pain, as if a sword were passing through you.”

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “It’s from The Little Mermaid, the fairy tale. It’s what a mermaid feels when she becomes a human woman. Great pain. Derek, I’m ready to be human.”

  A tiny knot formed in Derek’s throat. In Xenia’s eyes he saw not a single flicker of fear—only love, trust, and desire.

  He kissed her once, pulled away from her, and undressed. Naked now he stretched on top of her. Xenia opened her legs for him and he pressed the tip of his straining erection against her hymen.

  “I love you,” he whispered and thrust fast and hard into the very core of her. He gasped, his eyes wide open. It had been over a year since he’d been inside a woman’s body. His heart pounded in his chest, blood throbbed in his ears. Staying in her without moving, without pumping madly into her, strained every ounce of Derek’s self-control.

  An anguished whimper from underneath him brought Derek back to himself.

  “Breathe,” he begged Xenia, running his hand through her hair. “Try to breathe.”

  Xenia nodded and buried her head against his chest. All around him he felt her heat, her wetness, and her tight inner muscles trying to push him out of her. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled them onto their sides. He rubbed her lower back and hips, massaging them until her muscles started to unknot.

  “Do you want to stop?” he asked, kissing the tear on her cheek.

  “Never.” She smiled at him and tentatively pressed her hips into his.

  Groaning, Derek pushed her onto her back again and thrust deep. He breathed slowly, willing himself to hold back. But Xenia’s body held him like a hand. Her clitoris swelled at his touch. With short sharp thrusts he moved in her, trying to mask her pain with pleasure.

  Taking her legs in his hands, he pushed them as wide as they could go. He moved more easily inside her now. With long full thrusts he rode her, relishing the sensation of her body wrapped around his.

  Finally, he heard Xenia’s breathing change. He’d learned long ago that when her breaths turned sharp and shallow, she was close to coming. Locking his arms over either side of her shoulders, he increased his pace, moving in her with thrusts both meticulous and frenzied.

  Pressure built deep in his hips. Xenia cried out under him as her climax sent her body clenching wildly around his. With a last thrust, Derek clutched her to him, pushed once more, and poured into her.

  Afterward, Derek lingered inside her, kissing her lips, her face, her forehead.

  “Was it worth waiting for?” he asked. He knew his answer—yes. And he would have gladly waited longer.

  Xenia wrapped her arms around his neck and sank into the sheets. Sighing tiredly, she smiled. “It was worth everything.”

  After a few minutes of simply enjoying being inside her, Derek slid out of her. He washed the blood off them, pleased to see the damage hadn’t been as bad as he feared. Xenia surprised him by wanting to try again almost immediately. With the aid of some lubricant and an hour of foreplay, they managed to make love again, this time without pain. Derek stood at the side of the bed and moved in Xenia as she lay on her back, her hips at the edge of the mattress. Next he would teach her doggy style, then woman superior…maybe they’d just start the beginning of the Kama Sutra and work their way through it. He felt like a virgin himself in a way—until tonight, until Xenia, he’d never made love.

  Finally spent they lay on their sides, Xenia’s back nestled against his chest.

  “You think Kingsley will come to the wedding?” Derek asked, kissing the silver fin tattoo on her shoulder.

  “No. But knowing him, he’ll try to come on the honeymoon.”

  Derek laughed as he lightly teased her nipples with his fingertips. “Honeymoon sounds good. The ocean?”

  “Of course,” she said, pressing her bottom into his growing erection. Maybe they’d try it from behind this time. “No kids though. Nothing bigger than you is ever going in or coming out of me.”

  “I won’t argue with that. Dogs then?”

  “Dogs need yards. Cats?” Xenia suggested.

  “I’m allergic. So no kids, no dogs, no cats. Hmmm…Wait, I’ve got it.”

  Xenia turned over and grinned at him through the dark. Even in the low light, he could see the childlike mischief in her eyes. Ten years from now, a hundred years from now, he would still love those ocean eyes.

  “What?” she asked.

  He ran his fingertips over her face and down her arms, and then traced the tattoos that adorned her hips.

  “Fish.”

  Submit To Desire

  “Another one bites the dust,” Charlotte said, raising her glass. Two other glasses met it, and the resulting clink sent Amaretto Sour dripping over her fingers and onto the floor.

  “Good riddance to bad boyfriends.” London downed the last of her Fuzzy Navel and sat the empty glass on the bar.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Sasha said, sucking out the last drops of her Long Island Iced Tea.

  Steele, the bartender, refilled Sasha’s glass without a word.

  “That’s the problem.” Charlotte tucked a stray strand of red hair back into her straw cowboy hat. “Nick wasn’t a bad boyfriend. He was…nice.”

  London stared at her over the top of her drink. “You already dumped him, Char,” she said. “Don’t add insult to injury.”

  “You women are all the same.” Steele set three shots up in front of them. “God forbid you date a guy who’s nice to you.”

  “Nick was nice.” Sasha picked up her shot. “And kind of hot. Nice isn’t bad. Nice is just…boring.”

  “Boring,” London agreed.

  Charlotte sighed and gazed down into her drink.

  Nick was nice. Too nice. So nice, she wanted to kill him for it sometimes. Last week had been the last straw. She’d fallen asleep during sex. Missionary position. Five minutes of foreplay. Five minutes of thrusting. Ten minutes of “I love everything about you.” Just…like…always.

  “Boring,” Charlotte echoed as she looked up and met the eyes of a man walking through the bar. The man, whoever he was, looked to be in his mid-thirties and had shoulder-length dark hair and olive skin. His suit w
as almost Victorian-looking, like something off a romance novel cover. And he wasn’t walking so much as strolling, as if the crowded nightclub was a park in spring, and he was a country squire out on a pleasant Sunday ramble.

  “Steele, who is that guy?” London asked.

  Steele gave the three ladies a half-cocked smile. “That is Kingsley Edge. And he is the opposite of boring. And if you three have any sense, you’ll stay away from him.”

  “What sense I had just took her panties off and laid down in front of him,” Sasha said with a drunken giggle.

  “God, he looks like a pirate.” London ran her finger around the rim of her glass.

  “I think he looks dangerous.” Sasha shot the man her best come-over-here smile.

  Charlotte sighed. Sasha and London had promised her a girls’ night out to help cheer her up over yet another failed relationship. “No men” had been their promise. Only alcohol and dancing. Maybe it was time to get some better friends.

  “He looks like he needs a haircut.” Charlotte downed her shot in one bitter swallow.

  “Hey, do your trick, Char. That’ll get his attention,” Sasha begged.

  “I don’t want to get his attention. He’s a pimp.” Charlotte had heard of Kingsley Edge. No one who haunted New York’s nightlife hadn’t. His respectable business interests included owning several of the city’s top clubs. Rumors swirled about the man, however…rumors that he made the vast majority of his money pushing flesh and not cocktails.

  Steele laughed, and the three friends spun back around on their bar stools. “Kingsley Edge is not a pimp,” he said, pouring Charlotte a fresh Amaretto Sour. “Kingsley Edge is a talent scout.”

  “Talent scout?” Charlotte’s eyes followed Kingsley Edge as he made his way through the club. Every few feet, he’d pause and gaze at her through the crowd. “What sort of talent?”

  “Maybe your talent.” Steele winked at her. She’d worked at this club, Cirque de Nuit, a few years ago and had picked up a trick or two.

  Sasha and London looked at Charlotte with pleading eyes. Steele held out a shot glass full of liquid paraffin. Once again, Charlotte decided to make getting new friends a top priority. She was buzzed, but Sasha and London were shitfaced. And they were making her perform for them. Fine—if they insisted.