Текст книги "Suite 269"
Автор книги: Christine Zolendz
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
The heat from his mouth kick started a steady throb between my legs. My ribcage felt as if it twisted tighter —I could barely breathe in deep enough.
I tilted my head over my shoulder, the one his lips covered, the one his tongue was darting out gently licking, and looked at him.
His eyes pierced mine and my heart nearly beat out of my chest from the sudden heavy emotion and ache that pulled at my heart.
“You didn’t like tonight,” he whispered between kisses.
“No, I didn’t,” I said, tilting my head back around so I didn’t have to look into his eyes any longer. His hand reached up and held my face, pausing for a moment then continuing with the assault of my skin with his tongue.
“All I saw was you. All I wanted was you.” The tip of his tongue fluttered down my back, sending chills and heat along my spine. He nipped at my ribcage—just below my shoulder blade, and I gasped from the contact. “I came back here for you.”
“Why?” I squeaked out, biting down hard on my lip. His feathery soft kisses traveled to the middle of my back, just above my bottom, and his teeth nipped playfully at my skin. His hands slipped away from my face and trailed down over my back. The way he touched me was full of tenderness—with a hard edge of refined restraint. His body was tense and coiled hard against me, and I knew at any moment I could be taken hard; ravaged, soiled and I wanted it—I wanted it all.
Through full open-mouth kisses against my skin, he whispered, “Nobody ever made me feel like this, Lexa. Nobody.”
What the hell did that mean?
I never got the chance to ask because he slipped deep inside me slow and steady. All night long.
19
Jameson
“Believing there’s only one person in this world for you is like trying to capture lightening in a jar. It ain’t real.” @Kavon #AllYouGetIsEletrocuted #Shocking
I had her in every way possible. I think I’ve been inside Lexa more than I’ve been in any one other person. We tried things I never did with anyone else. And I didn’t want it to end.
We spent our days on the beach even when it rained, asking each other question after question. She’d ask the most mundane questions in her utmost serious expressions. “Tell me…what’s your favorite…” she began, then arched one eyebrow up dramatically and continued, “cartoon?”
“That’s a very personal question,” I chided. “I honestly can’t believe you had the guts to ask me something so intimate.”
She snorted and swept her windblown hair into a band and tied it into some sort of sexy, wild knot-bun-style. “Well?”
“Batman Beyond. Yours?”
“Old school, way before my time; Pinky and The Brain.”
“That’s classic. Okay, what’s your favorite color?” I asked, reaching over and tucking a loose strand of hair she’d missed behind her ear.
“Purple. You?”
“Blue.” And what I really meant was the insane color of her eyes. But saying that aloud wouldn’t be good. Not good at all.
“Music?” she asked.
“Classic rock,” I answered. The line of questioning continued for hours, turning and spinning into days. Every inconsequential detail of our lives—books, movies, vacations, blogs, political views, every little impersonal tidbit of information, we tossed back and forth to each other. I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I wanted to know more about a woman, or wanted to tell everything to a woman for that matter.
Each night as the sun sank below the horizon, splashing crisp, fiery colors across the sky, the questions turned more meaningful and not easily answered. I wanted, no, needed to know why a woman as brilliant as Lexa could settle for a boy like Kevin Trager? Why hadn’t she really forgiven him? What were her ambitions in life? She couldn’t want to just be a fact checker for the rest of her career. What was her childhood like? Her first kiss?
“I noticed the lack of a father figure at your Un-Wedding. What’s the story there?” I asked.
“Un-Wedding? That’s what you’re calling it?” she snorted.
I shrugged. “Just answer the question, brat.”
She poked me in the shoulder with a finger and laughed. “My father left when I was eleven. Had an affair with someone he was working with. The classic cliché affair. He’ll send a Christmas card every year, sometimes a birthday card if he remembers.” She smiled brightly, pretending it didn’t kill her to be so rejected by her own father. A low roll of tension boiled in my blood. Some men should never get the honor of having children—especially little girls—when all they’d ever end up being is jacked up sperm donors. Beyond that, now I understood her more, now it started to become clearer why she was so self-conscious.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked low.
She shook her head. “It’s been so long I’m used to it already. He chose my stepmother over my mom and me. There’s nothing I could have done or said to stop it. Why let it affect me now?”
“But it does affect you.”
My words rattled her. It was easy to tell by the darkening pink of her cheeks. But she asked questions too. Uncomfortable ones.
“Why Sophia? What did you see in her?” she asked.
“Nothing, really. She was easily available. She threw herself at me one night and I just went with it. I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, so I spent the night with her.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, ashamed and not even understanding why. “I never thought there was anything more for me. I never really felt strongly about anyone. Just sexually. I mean, I’ve dated plenty…but like Sophia said, I was always emotionally inaccessible. I’d never met anyone I wanted anything more with. I’m not opposed to the idea of relationships and marriage. I’ve never felt that way about someone before. I’m not sure I ever will. But I know I certainly didn’t feel it toward her.” I exhaled loudly and leaned back, “I always felt bad for her because I could never muster up any real feelings.”
She nodded her head slowly as she looked out over the horizon—her expression deep in thought. I watched her face carefully, wondering what she felt about my words, but she gave nothing away, just stared out across the water, impassively.
“It’s bittersweet,” she murmured, turning her head toward me and smiling tentatively. “Having these beautiful feelings for another person—the butterflies, the comfort, the wanting to spend time with someone. It’s such a breathtaking feeling. Until you taste the bitterness of them not feeling the same way back. It’s hard to let go of that breathtaking feeling. So hard.” Her eyes were wide, as if she shocked herself with her own words.
Yet I understood. I really did. Because I could already taste how bittersweet it was going to be when our time was over.
I sure as hell didn’t like the taste at all.
I leaned my phone against the lamp and angled it perfectly. I peeked at the viewfinder to see the whole room in the frame. Then I hit record. A small ding chimed and she giggled. I watched as she stood in front of the phone, biting down on her bottom lip, “I feel like there should be some raunchy music in the background.”
I hit a few buttons and a slow, sexy song filled the room. “Better?”
“Mmmm,” she purred, slowly swaying her hips to the music and sliding one strap of her dress over her shoulder. She wore her hair up in a loose twist and slowly pulled out a pin, making her hair tumble down around her face. The dark strands against her tanned skin made me think of beaches and coconut oil. She slowly turned her back toward me, peeking over the back of her shoulder, her gaze still fixed on mine. The gradual rasp of her front zipper sent waves of heat rising along my skin. The silky material of what she wore inched down her back, exposing her smooth skin. Lower and lower it dropped as she swayed her hips to the rhythm of the song. I clenched my fists tightly around the arms of the chair. I wanted them on her hips as she rode me. I wanted my cock inside her, filling her; my tongue, fingers, I wanted to crawl inside this woman and live in her blood stream.
I sat and watched her undress until I saw the small tremble of her lips. A small breath of insecurity that I wanted desperately to erase.
I lunged for her and she watched my advance with wide, hungry eyes. She needed to see how much a man could want her. After this, she’d be able to see it whenever she wanted to; all she’d have to do was press play. A reminder of the short time we had together. Fantasy Number Two: sex tape.
We fell onto the bed and she tumbled back onto the pillow, hair splayed out like a crown around her head. She watched the way I looked at her, my slow perusal of her body. She was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. Her nipples tightened into hard peeks under my gaze, her legs rubbed against each other, and the apex of her thighs dampened with her arousal.
“You look so beautiful,” I leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “I want to do so much to your body right now.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
I shifted off the bed and dragged my messenger bag off the table. “Number seven on your list was use toys,” I said.
A small rush of breath blew from her lips and her hands grasped onto the bed sheets beneath her. “Oh, my God.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Would you relax? It’s nothing crazy.”
“If you pull out anything with a spiked chain on it, or any gag-type apparatus or…or some other sexual torture device, I think I might run,” she vowed, trying to speak in a stern voice. The fit of giggles that completed her thought made my chest squeeze. I loved when she laughed.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Want to see what I bought you?” I asked.
She leaned up on her elbows and nodded.
“Have you ever used one?” I asked, pulling out a small bullet-shaped vibrator.
She shook her head quickly, “Not really. I tried but Kevin said it would replace him if I used it.”
“So he was jealous of a piece of plastic,” I chuckled.
“He told me he wouldn’t have to come home anymore if I bought one. He told me I should be able to come from him unless there was something wrong with me. I shouldn’t need a stupid vibrating stick.”
“And did he always make you come from his cock?”
She hesitated before speaking and looked apprehensively toward the vibrator. “I could probably count on the fingers of one hand how many times he made me come.”
“My poor girl,” I said, smiling and biting down on my lip.
“He always thought there was just something wrong with me.”
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. This enhances pleasure.” I rummaged for the next box and the lube in my bag, and unpacked a medium sized anal plug. “So does this.”
A pink blush crept across her face.
Opening the lube, I poured a good amount of it into the palm of my hand and rolled the plug through it as she watched. “Knees up, beautiful.”
Immediately she smiled and hugged her knees to her chest, giving the camera and me the perfect view. I gently worked the plug into her bottom, bit by bit. When she scrunched up her face, I stopped and let her relax, then gently pushed it in until it could go no more. What a gorgeous sight. My dick was rock hard and throbbing from it. “You feel full?”
“God, yes,” she sighed.
“Just wait,” I smirked. I stood up, unbuckled my pants, and let them drop to the floor. My hand was on my cock immediately, stroking it while my eyes devoured her. “You haven’t felt anywhere near full yet.”
“Oh God, oh God,” she said, as I slid alongside her and pulled her legs over mine. I entered her sideways, shoved myself deep inside her, making her moan out my name. She lay on her back with her legs draped over me, the cell phone camera aimed straight on her. “I’m going to put it really low. Okay?” I thrust deep inside her again and softly placed the tip of the bullet against her swollen clit and turned it on. She sucked in a fast breath, “James,” she said, eyes wide.
Again, I thrust myself deep inside her, her silkiness vibrating around me, tightening. Fuck, I could feel the vibrator shake her whole pussy. Her body trembled. Soft, low moans murmured strange foreign words from her lips.
“Take hold of it, Lex,” I panted, putting the vibrator into her hands. “Make yourself feel good on my cock. Make yourself come on me.”
Her hand fumbled for it and when our fingers brushed against each other’s, I felt how much they trembled. “You’re absolutely breathtaking when you lose control, Lex.”
She smiled up at me, placed the vibrator against her clit again, and rocked slowly against it. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy it. Enjoy me.” Watching her move her hips made me almost blow my load. The way she moved her body was my own private show. That’s what she was doing—putting on a show for me, showing me how she could enjoy her body and mine. She was letting go.
I could have watched her all day. The way she moved the toy over herself and the erotic facial expressions that flashed like pure sin across her face.
“Oh, my God, James. God…this…is…so…in…tense,” she gasped. She started really getting into it—circling the vibrator around her clit—getting the tip of it slick with her wetness.
“Fuck, Lex. That’s hot.”
“You like watching me do this?” she asked in a husky voice. Her eyes pierced mine—her lips parted and her breathing became rushed and heavy. She was watching me get off on the way I was watching her.
“S’good. James. So full,” she moaned breathlessly. Hell yeah it was. I was bottoming out in her, balls hitting the swell of her ass and the tip of my cock hitting the top. I was so thick and hard I could feel the anal plug filling up her ass. Fuck, I was getting close.
The soft buzzing of the vibrator hitched up quicker. She was putting it up higher. The sensation had me thrusting into her harder. Faster. Our skin slapped wetly together. Her gasps and moans grew louder, heavier. They mixed with my heavy breathing and low grunts. My balls tightened and that intense spiraling ache began surging through the base of my dick. The bed creaked as she moved her hips with mine—the fabric of the sheets crinkled and pulled as she clawed her nails against it. She was so hot she was making the bed moan and sigh along with her.
I slid my cock all the way in and all the way out. Until her chest was heaving, rising and falling in quick, heavy gasps, calling my name. She grinded herself into me, pulled me in closer with her free hand and kissed me. Her body bowed and arched off the bed. She got wetter and wetter, slicking over my dick until she was jerking and screaming and convulsing in hard, tight pulses around me.
“Holy Jesus. Sweet holy, yes,” she moaned. “James. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.”
I couldn’t think. All I heard was her calling my name—I couldn’t hold back—the feeling was too intense. I came hard—with her name like a prayer staining my lips.
And I had gotten it all on video.
We were wrapped up in the sheets when my phone rang. I hated to leave the comfort of the bed and the way her leg was slung over my hip, to answer it, but my father’s name flashed across the screen. Ever since my mother’s death I’ve tried to be there for him whenever he needed me, as soon as I could. It was guilt I guess. I’m not sure. Not that it mattered, I just always answered the phone when he called and did what he needed me to do. I didn’t get to do that with my mother.
“Where are you?” he snarled into the phone.
“I told you I was taking a few weeks off,” I explained, quietly walking out of the bedroom for some privacy. There was no chance of me telling him I was here with Lexa. I’d never hear the end of it.
“The latest numbers are in. It’s humiliating. We scrap the offices in New York and head out West.”
“They’re that bad?” I asked, walking to the back balcony and looking out over the dark sea.
“Five major advertisers pulled from us yesterday. Five.”
He rattled the brand names off—each one a punch to the gut.
“Your mother must me so disappointed in us,” he mumbled painfully. Disappointed? In us? She was dead. When was he going to get that through his skull? She couldn’t be disappointed or angry or happy or sad.
“Dad, stop,” I said, but he spoke over me, louder and harsher.
“I promised her I’d keep it up. That was her dying wish and I couldn’t even keep my end of the bargain. I just…” he went on and on, making me hold the phone away from my ear so I didn’t have to hear any of it.
“Dad, listen…”
But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He just barked orders at me then hung up. Same thing he did every time.
I slumped into the lounge chair in the living area and hung my head in my hands. A lot of people were going to lose their jobs.
“Hey,” Lexa’s soft voice called out to me. I turned my gaze on her. She leaned on the doorway of the bedroom with our sheets clutched to her chest, barely covering her.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I nodded and pointed to the phone. “The numbers came in and my father’s upset. Five advertisers just pulled their ads because of sales.”
“Hasn’t he opened any of my emails? I think I can help,” she said.
“You can’t. I’m sorry. I wish you could, but no one is going to give a fact checker the time of day. The magazine needs someone who could carry it. Who people want to see.”
“You don’t think I could write well enough to keep people entertained?” she asked slowly.
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that even though I’m sure you’re terrific, you’re not what people want. We can’t settle. We just can’t settle for you.”
20
Lexa
“Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut and let other people play the fool.” @Kavon #MarkTwainSaidItBest
I’m not even sure he was talking about the magazine anymore. I wanted to ask him if this had anything to do with us. Was I someone people settled for? No, I wasn’t. I would never want to be. It’s the reason why I wouldn’t go back to Kevin.
I spent the last two days of our make-believe honeymoon trying to keep my distance from him—from us. It was like trying to put a Band-Aid on a cut before it ever happened. It was impossible. And the more I tried to get away, the more he was near me, next to me, deep inside me.
Secretly, I loved it—every minute of his attention. But the thought of him taking it away had me locking myself in the bathroom, rocking in the corner.
We couldn’t even board the plane without him pulling me, laughing, into its poor excuse for a bathroom.
Tugging the hem of my shirt with one hand, he pulled open the bathroom door with the other. “Go in first and face the back wall,” he spoke quietly against my ear. He slid in behind me, causing me to shove in all the way up against the toilet seat. His hands gripped mine and placed them over the handrails on either side of the walls. Beads of sweat and heat coursed over my skin. The room was too small to even turn around to face him. His hands dropped to my waist and slid my shirt up in a rush, just as the plane started bouncing toward the runway.
His hands cupped my breasts and his fingers deftly flicked over my nipples. The sensation fluttered straight to my groin and I leaned over more to press my ass against him.
But that only made me get a face full of airplane toilet. “James. My face is in the toilet. This is gross.”
He leaned into my back, laughing. “And that’s not sexy to you?”
I burst out in a fit of giggles, trying not to breathe in too much. The smell of being in an airplane toilet was finally getting through. I slammed my hand up against my nose to stop the horrible scent from making me sick. “Ugh. The smell!”
He leaned against the door, laughing loudly. “How the hell do people do this?”
I tried to turn my body to face him. But the plane bounced and I bumped my elbow into the counter of the small sink and stubbed my knee into the wall.
“Mr. Moneybags, next time your family goes to buy a private plane, you should get bigger bathrooms,” I teased when I finally managed to face him.
“I’ll definitely let my father know they are unsuitable for sexual encounters.” We laughed together, but only for a few moments, until we gradually stopped and the rush of the air through the vents was the only sound besides our breathing. Neither of us moved—we just stood in the small space saying so many things to each other with our eyes. A small bell dinged over our heads and the fasten seatbelt sign lit up. His eyes darted up and he smiled, then cupped my face with his hands and kissed me. I just wished it didn’t feel like it was a goodbye.
“Come on,” he said, “this wasn’t even a fantasy on your list.” He held my hand and led me back to our seats. I quickly buckled myself in as the pilot peeked his head out and blushed. “We’ll be taking off in a few minutes. I’m just waiting on clearance. Please stay in your seats, sir.”
James laughed loudly. “Sure thing, Marco.”
As soon as we were alone again, he leaned over the seats closer to me. “This was the best honeymoon I’ve ever been on,” he said low, combing his hands through my hair. “Thank you for letting me make some of your fantasies come true.”
“Some?”
“Yeah, well I couldn’t do number ten, right?”
“Right. Number ten.” Yeah. But number ten? That was the most important one for me, though he’ll never know.
He looked down at his watch and smiled. “We land in about three and a half hours. Any last fantasies before we go on with our separate lives? Is there anything else I could give you? Anything you want?”
Flashes of heat raced along my face and down my neck. Yes. Fall for me. Fight for us. Want me. Don’t let me go. Please don’t let me go. My hands became sweaty and I wiped them down the front of my pants. “Um…” I tried to find the words. A dozen of them swam in my brain—all the right words to let him know how I felt—but none of them would ever make a difference to him. I didn’t want him to throw me away like all the other men in my life did. I needed to walk away first, before he could say anything that could hurt me. Before he could make me feel even more unwanted. “How about letting me do the job you want Alex Kavon to do?”
The corners of his mouth pulled down as if I said something wrong. “I wish I could, Lex. You’re not the one my father wants.”
“I could help the magazine, Jameson, I think I really could. If everyone would just listen to—”
“Lex, stop. I know your heart is in the right place, but there’s nothing you could do to help us.” He leaned his head away from me and gazed out the small window. “Not unless you could get me Alex Kavon’s direct number.”
A hard lump formed at the back of my throat, burning my chest and making it hard to breathe. “I’m sure if I had the chance to—”
“Lex,” he interrupted me, again, leveling his eyes on me, “do you know how to get in contact with him?” The words were mocking—taunting me—like he had no confidence in me telling him the truth or didn’t believe I’d be able to have information worth his time.
“Maybe I do,” I said, pressing my lips together and grinding my teeth.
“Lex, if that’s true then please get me his private number. Or even his personal assistant’s number. Anything. You owe me that much.”
I jerked my head back as if he’d hit me. The skin along my collarbone tingled with what felt like fire and my heart raced. I owe him? “I owe you?”
“Shit. Lex, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said as his gaze wandered back over to the window. He poked his finger at something near the window, as if the object was more important than fixing the stupid crap that just spewed out of his mouth.
He didn’t mean it like that. No, of course not. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. I tried not to burst into tears. “But, you’re right. I do owe you, don’t I? You did me a huge favor by sleeping with me so...thoroughly. So I will definitely try to set up the appointment for you.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with what we did. It wasn’t a favor. We had fun, right? Don’t take it personally. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I’m just a little frustrated.”
Sure. Whatever you say, boss.
