An Unintentional Affair (The Affair Series Book 1) (7 page)

“I have a little
catching up to do….” He watched my hands closely as I ceremoniously unbuttoned
his shirt. His chest was firm and beckoning. I tantalized his firm pecs with my
fingernails, igniting the flame of desire in his eyes. He gazed into my eyes,
transfixed as he held my cheek and leaned in to nibble my lips then engulfed my
mouth with his.

He stopped abruptly. “I’d
better check that water before we have a flood on our hands.”

I lay on the bed,
staring at the ceiling.
How could this be happening? How did I get here?
A rush of arousal swept through me when Adam reappeared, his naked,
Adonis-like, body gliding toward me. He unzipped my fly, and tugged my skirt
and panties off. He hovered over me, arms extended, his hard shaft swelling
with every passing moment.

“Are you ready, Ms.
Ryan?” he groaned.

“Oh, yes,” I breathed,
and inched down to take his cock in my mouth. Sliding my tongue over his crown,
I caressed his length with my fingers. He was so hard and hot. He moaned softly
as I took him deeper. His hand was on top of my head, pushing gently, urging me
to take more of him. I love tasting him, and taunting him and giving him
pleasure.

He reached down and
lifted me up. “We have all night,” he whispered, and kissed me tenderly. “Let’s
get into that tub while it’s hot.” He carried the robes and took my hand, leading
me into the bathroom. The room was filled with candlelight, reflecting off the
shiny surfaces, and on the iridescent bubbles that floated on the surface of
the steamy water. The port glasses were staged on the side of the tub. He
steadied me as I stepped into the hot water, and guided me to sit in front of
him as he sat down at the back of the tub. I leaned back against his chest and
took a deep breath, finally beginning to relax.

He grazed my shoulder
and neck with soft kisses. “It’s going to be okay, Emily,” he whispered in my
ear, trying to reassure me. I didn’t respond, just patted his knee. I honestly
didn’t know what to say. In that moment, I couldn’t imagine how everything was going
to be okay?

After a few minutes of
soaking and sipping the port, he took the glass from my hand and set my arms up
on the edges of the tub. He wrapped his arms around me and rolled my pencil-hard
nipples between his fingertips. I closed my eyes and relished the titillation of
his sensual touch, the steamy water, and soft fragrance of the bubbles, trying
to banish the discoveries of the day out of my consciousness. His impressive
erection pushed against my back as his fingers danced down my belly, tickling
me as he moved toward my sweet spot. Hi fingers skated through my folds, sending
a shock wave through my core. He didn’t stop there, but reached farther to my
knees, spreading my legs as far as they would go inside the tub. Working his
hands back toward my epicenter, he gently massaged the insides of my thighs.
His fingers summoned all my senses into his control. He reached over and pushed
a button instantly sending the steaming water churning around us. A whirlpool! He
parted my folds to expose my most sensitive spot, so the movement of the water
was pulsing at my pudendum. His hand was moving in circular motions, working my
clit to the surface. I gripped the edges of the tub tightly as the sensations
exploded through me. I pushed hard against him, bracing against the inner shock
waves, my legs trembling.

“Ahh, Adam,” I moaned
uncontrollably as an orgasm pushed through me.

His movements slowed,
and he slid his hands down my thighs, kissing my shoulders. “Slide forward,” he
breathed, with total command over this dance. I moved forward, and he got out
of the tub and right back in at the other end, facing me. His enormous erection
glistened in the candlelight, with a few bubbles dangling from it as if they
were ornaments. He slid down so his legs were under me and I was kneeling on
either side of him. He methodically sheathed himself, and then slowly lifted me
up maneuvering himself under me. I guided him to slide inside me. His
penetration went deep, reaching my core in a way I had never experienced before.
My head fell back in ecstasy. I moved up and down on him, bracing myself on the
edges of the tub. The water was still swirling, amplifying the pleasure between
us. More shock waves rifled through me as another orgasm shattered me to my
core at the same moment he let loose. It was astounding. I fell against him, my
heart pounding.

“You’re amazing,” he
whispered as he reached up to switch off the swirling water.

“I feel very safe in
your arms, Adam. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

He kissed the top of my
head, and we languished in the tub for a while longer. I could hear his racing
heartbeat beginning to slow. The only other sound was the soft music from the other
room. We didn’t speak, just held each other. It was enough.

**

After a while, the
bubbles subsided, and the water was cooling off. We stepped out of the tub and
he wrapped his arms around me engulfing me in the soft robe. He held me tightly
and kissed my neck. “Are you hungry?” he asked. It seemed like it hadn’t been
that long since lunch, but when I looked at the clock I realized it had been hours
since we left TJ’s, and the bath had provided a complete escape from the realities
of the day.

“I could probably eat a
little something.” We ordered a fruit and cheese plate, plus a charcuterie
assortment. The cool sparkling water that came with the snacks was refreshing
after the steamy bath.

Adam noticed I was
drifting deep into thought again. He held my chin and said, “Let it go for
tonight. Nothing’s going to change in the next few hours, so let me fill all of
the corners of your imagination for a while longer. Tonight is going to be all
about you.”

He licked my lips, and
kissed me gently, pulling all my attention right back to him. He loosened the tie
of my robe and slid his velvety hands inside it. His forefinger slowly grazed a
path up my torso and between my breasts, circling around my nipple. Caressing
my breast, he drew the nipple between his lips. His tongue teased me as both
nipples stood at full attention. He gently pushed me back onto the couch and
licked down my torso into my folds. I pushed my hands into the pockets of the
robe and squeezed the soft fabric, holding on for the next wave of arousal. He
spread my legs and lay down with his mouth positioned perfectly to taunt me. His
tongue danced over me. In me. Around my clit. His thumb moved in titillating
circles as his other hand held me open. He was in full control over the most
sensitive corners of my being. My body writhed. I threw my hands over my head
and held the arm of the couch tightly as my back arched, and my hips moved into
him. He could tell when I was on the verge of coming, but rather than allow my
climax, he would take me to the edge and shift his tongue at the last moment to
prolong the arousal. My tipping point seemed to get higher and higher each time
he brought me close. He pressed his mouth against me so his lips were holding
mine open. His tongue worked feverishly as he held my ass, tilting me into him.
The orgasm rippled through me like an earthquake. My entire body trembled. He continued
lightly licking me to taunt me a little longer. He seemed to know just the right
balance between pain and pleasure.

I could barely breathe
from the intensity of the orgasm. My heart was pounding. “Oh, my God, Adam! I
don’t even want to know how you learned how to do that!” I lay there for a
moment, trying to breathe.

He smiled broadly and
said, “You taste so sweet.”

“I want to feel you
inside me.”

“Oh, no, tonight is all
about you.”

“But that
is
for
me. I want
you!
” I pleaded.

He stood up, loosened
the tie on his robe, and held his arms in the air and smiled. “Okay, have your
way with me. Whatever your pleasure.”

Taking his hand, I led him
into the bedroom, slipped the robe off his shoulders and dropped mine to the
floor. Climbing onto the bed, I reached for him. As he lay down, I rolled him
on his back and climbed on top of him. Unwrapping a condom, I ceremoniously
unrolled it slowly over his magnificent shaft as he studied my hands. I entwined
my fingers with his, holding his hands over his head as I slowly and easily slid
him inside me. He was so hard, and my folds were slick from the multiple
orgasms moments earlier. His intense arousal excited me even more. I quickly
moved up and down as he gazed at me. I slowed my pace for a moment so it would
register when I clenched my core and squeezed him. His eyes lit up with
surprise.

He broke free from my
hands and wrapped an arm around my waist. In a blink he was on top of me and
pumping me hard.

“Ohhh,” he called out
as he climaxed quickly.

I rubbed my fingers up
and down his spine as he lay on top of me, totally spent, and breathless. “I
love exciting you,” I whispered. “It makes me very happy when you’re
satisfied.”

He pushed himself up so
our faces were inches apart. “I’d say that’s several levels beyond
satisfaction.” He smiled and brushed the hair away from my face.

It had been a long day
with a roller coaster of emotions. Exhaustion was setting in for both of us. We
snuggled for a little while as our heartbeats returned to a normal rhythm.

Finally, Adam said
quietly, “I’ll protect you the best way I can, Emily.”

“I know.”

We kissed tenderly, a
more intimate kiss than I had felt from Adam before. As I fell asleep, I
couldn’t help but wonder what the next few days would bring.

Adam was awake before
me on Sunday. He lay on top of the covers and ran his fingers down my back, gently
bringing me into consciousness.

“Oh, that feels so
nice.” I was trying to break through the sleepy fog in my head. He was perched
on an elbow, looking down at me, when I rolled over.

“Good morning.” He
beamed.

“Good morning,” I
murmured, still trying to shake off sleep.

“I hope the
distractions last night kept the demons out of your dreams.”

“I slept like a rock,
no nightmares. Only delicious dreams of you,” I said wrapping my arms around
his neck. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.”

He pulled me close for
a long, wet kiss. I could feel his excitement pressing against me through the
blankets. He took a deep breath. “As much as I would love to spend the day
right here with you, we’ve got some work to do.”

“I know, you’re right.”

He kissed my forehead
then asked, “How ‘bout a shower?”

“Yes, please.”

We languished in the
endless supply of hot water that only a hotel can guarantee. He stretched out,
hands above his head, almost spread-eagled, leaning on the glass as I
meticulously washed every inch of his toned body. I became aroused again just
running my hands over his smooth skin and taut muscles. He lathered his hands,
and began bathing me, cleansing and enticing at the same time. His silky hands
glided over my skin like skates on ice. His touch was electric.

He turned me so I was
facing away from him, then sheathed himself and squatted down so his full
length could slide easily inside me. His hands reached around and stroked me in
sync with his rhythm. The staccato of the warm water on our skin added to the
exploding sensations. He grabbed my hips and pumped for a moment longer,
squeezing me as he came hard. He leaned in and kissed my shoulder as he slid
out of me. We embraced in the stream of warm water and kissed…a very deep,
wanton kiss, running our hands up and down each other’s backs without saying a
word. I felt very connected with him.

**

“Breakfast?” he asked
as we dressed. “Do you want to eat here or go out?” My mind was drifting back
to work. How was I was going to keep my eyes wide open for any signs of foul
play, but go on with business as usual? Adam sensed my anxiety. “Do you want to
talk about it?”

“How am I going be able
to work and not let on that I know something’s up? I’m not much of a bluffer.”

“Okay, let’s stay here
and talk about it, figure out a strategy that will help you get through the
next few days. I want you to be safe and in control of the situation. Breakfast
first, though. What other food groups beside bacon would you like this morning?”

I smiled at his attempt
at humor. “How about oatmeal and fruit?”

“Oatmeal? Really?”

“Don’t you know that
oatmeal is brain food?”

“Ahhh! Another food
lesson learned,” he added, still attempting to be funny. He knew he was failing
miserably.

He called downstairs
and ordered oatmeal, fruit, and bacon for me and sausage and eggs for himself. And
of course coffee. No Sunday morning, or any morning, for that matter, was
complete without coffee. Breakfast arrived, and as we ate, Adam asked me about
my duties at the studio. I realized in talking through it that I had no
specific daily schedule, with the exception of a few minor tasks that didn’t
take very long. In many ways, that was good. I wasn’t a slave to a routine. Our
shoot wasn’t until Thursday, so I wouldn’t be in heavy prep mode until
Wednesday, formatting drives and creating I.D. cards for each item. If it was
as slow on Monday as it had been on Friday, I might not have much to do.

He pulled out a piece
of paper and a pencil. “What’s the general layout of the studio?”

I drew a block diagram
showing the relationship of spaces. “Here’s the entrance, and here’s my desk. Clint’s
office is here. Sam sits toward the back, kind of near the warehouse. The
cantina is here, and the office supply closet is here. When Myra is in to pay
bills, she just works in Clint’s office. When we shoot in Clint’s studio, that
happens over here.”

“What’s in the warehouse?”

“That’s where Clint keeps
all of the cameras, lights, backdrops, big stuff like that. There used to be a
darkroom in there, too, but he hasn’t shot real film in years. The room is
still there, but he never uses it.”

“Have you been in that
darkroom before?”

“No. On my first day,
Clint gave me a tour of the place and pointed it out to me, but I never went
inside and haven’t been back there since. I’m responsible for the drives and
the computers where we store all of the digital shots. Those are all stored at my
work station, so I work there, and frequent the cantina for my coffee fix. I’ve
been in Clint’s office a few times, but that’s it.”

“So Clint is the only
one who goes in and out of the warehouse?”

“No, Sam, the other
full-time assistant, spends a lot of time back there. He maintains all of the
gear, so he hangs out back there with his music blasting and tinkers with the
cameras and stuff.”

“Are you close with
Sam?”

“Not really. We’re sort
of friends. We went out on a date one time, and it was awful. He’s a hard guy
to get to know because he doesn’t talk with anybody much. Not even Clint. But
he’s a smart guy and knows how to troubleshoot.”

“Can you get into the
studio today?”

“I have a key and my
own alarm code, but the alarm company registers every time someone disarms the
system and reports it to Clint. I left a book there one Friday and stopped by
on a Saturday to pick it up. Clint questioned me about why I was going into the
studio on the weekend. It was kinda creepy.”

“Okay, no reason to go
there today, then. Maybe we should go to the Jackson Gallery, since we never
got there yesterday, and see if we can scope out where you will be shooting
this week. If nothing else, you’ll at least know where you’re going on Thursday,
and you’ll get to see the exhibit you wanted to see.”

“I’m not sure I can
really focus on the exhibit right now, but checking out the surroundings might
not be a bad idea.”

“Okay, let me just
check my e-mail and see if there‘s anything new, and then we can head over
there.”

I was finishing up my fourth
or fifth cup of coffee as Adam checked his messages. He was making notes and
spending enough time reading his e-mail that I knew something was up.

“What’s new?” I asked,
trying to be matter-of-fact.

“Well….” He paused and turned
to me with a very concerned expression on his face. “The information we entered
into the case file last night turned up some new information on Clay Orwell.
Seems he has a few aliases. Looks like he’s in the Mob.”

I was staring at head
shots and mug shots of Clay Orwell, aka Clay Wells, aka The Messenger. I realized
I
had
seen him before. It was Peter. He had always showed up as the
messenger delivering art from Clay Orwell.

“I
do
know him!”
I cried. “He’s the bicycle messenger who delivers Clay’s art to Clint. I just
figured we were on his route, so it made sense it was always the same guy. He
told me his name was Peter. Oh, my God, Adam, that’s Clay?!” I was almost
hyperventilating.

“Calm down. He doesn’t
know that you know who he is,” Adam said in a soothing voice, but it didn’t help
much.

“He just delivered a
painting to the studio Thursday. I can’t believe that’s him!” I was pacing
again.

“Did you see it? The
painting, I mean,” Adam asked.

“Yes…I mean no, not
really. I’ve seen the wrapped paintings as they come in and go out. They’re
wrapped meticulously, I guess so they can tell if the packages have been
tampered with at any point.”

“Okay, where does he
put the paintings when they come in?”

“Clint or Sam usually
takes them from me, but I’ve never paid attention to where they put them. On
Friday I asked Clint if he wanted me to help him shoot the one that arrived
Thursday, and he said no. He thought it was a waste of my time, since we
weren’t getting paid to shoot them.” My brain was processing, trying to
remember the sequence of events after Clay delivered the painting. I had been
so distracted thinking about Adam, nothing came to mind. My pacing quickened,
and I was breathing hard. “Adam, how can this be happening under my nose?”

Adam tried to calm me
down. “You had no reason to question any of it. Unless something really out of
the ordinary happened, why would you suspect Clint was doing anything but conducting
business as usual.”

I rolled my eyes and
kept pacing. “It’s my fault. I’m an idiot!”

“I think you could use
some fresh air. Why don’t we make that trip over to the gallery?”

We made our way across
town and came up on the side street next to the building that housed the gallery.
I noticed a driveway - actually, an alley - with a sign that said, “Service
entrance for Jackson Gallery.”

“That’s most likely
where we’ll have to load in on Thursday,” I told Adam. We walked a little way
down the alley and tried to find the loading dock. There was just one huge
roll-up door that covered the whole width of the space. “It looks like a
fortress,” I observed. “I’ll bet their security is crazy.”

Adam agreed. “I think
you’re right. They probably have cameras watching us right now, so maybe we’d
better get out of here.”

We were walking back up
the block to go into the gallery when Adam got a text. He had a hint of a smile
on his face as he asked, “Are you up for a bit of a diversion? My designer is
at the loft and wanted to know if I was available to come by. Would you go with
me?”

“Of course! I’d love to
see it, and it’d be nice to have something else to think about besides all this
insanity.”

We hopped in a cab and
were downtown in less than ten minutes. Adam used a key in the elevator to unlock
the button that went to the sixth floor. When the door opened, we were in the foyer
of the loft. Adam led me around the corner into the main space. It was an
enormous, wide-open room with sweeping views of the city. The designer turned
around from the kitchen island where she had been inspecting the plans.

“Emily, you remember
Sophia?” Adam asked, eyeing me, knowing full well I remembered Sophia.

“Of course. How are you
today?” I said. My face flushed from embarrassment as I remembered how I had
run out of Alfredo’s Friday night. I held out my hand to shake hers.

“Hi, Emily. Adam,” she
said, shaking my hand and kissing Adam on both cheeks, “I’m glad you were free
to come over and check out the progress. I think it’s coming along nicely.”

“Looking good,” Adam
said, walking around the island into the new kitchen. “I’m looking forward to
doing some serious cooking in here.” The space was very masculine, with ebony
cabinets and honed black granite countertops. Adam looked very comfortable there.

“You were so right
about the changes you made in the cabinet layout. This space is much more
functional than it would have been with the original plan,” Sophia said,
complimenting Adam.

Wow, I was learning
quickly that there were many interesting facets to his complex personality. He
even had a design sense. I observed him closely as he and Sophia walked around
the loft and examined a few more details that had been completed since the last
time Adam was there. It was going to be a gorgeous place when it was finished. I
wondered how many other facets of Adam’s personality I had not seen yet. It will
be so cool getting to know everything about him. Two more weeks, and he could
move in. I had a feeling that would be when I would get to know the real Adam
Comstock. Sophia wrapped up her conversation with him and said her good-byes.

“Thanks again for
making the time this afternoon, Adam. Emily, nice to see you again. You two enjoy
the rest of your Sunday.”

“Thanks, Sophia. We’ll
talk soon,” Adam said as Sophia left. When the elevator door closed, he turned
to me with his head down. “I’m sorry for not telling you Sophia is my designer,
but I was afraid you wouldn’t come if I told you she was here.”

“That was a pretty good
assumption,” I said with a little annoyance.

“I hope you’re not mad.
I really wanted you to see the place.”

“I’m not mad. I’m sorry
I made such crazy assumptions on Friday when I ran out on you.”

Adam walked over and
stretched both arms on either side of me against the counter and kissed me. “Thanks
for being here.” He took my hand and walked out onto the terrace. It was a
pretty bare space, with the exception of a table with four chairs and a couple
of chaise lounges. “This is the reason I bought this place. Once the inside is
done, I am going to have it landscaped. I’m sure I’ll live out here as long as
the weather is nice.”

“It’s fabulous! I miss
having a place to spend time outside. I would live out here, too.” The
afternoon was crisp but sunny. We sat in the chaise lounges, holding hands, and
talked. Now that I knew what Adam really did for a living, I wanted to know
more. “How did you get into private investigation? Can you take courses for
something like that?”