Slick as Ides (13 page)

I stroke the skin behind his balls, and almost make my way to his crack when suddenly his legs tighten and almost try to get as far away from me as possible.

Is he . . . ?

Oh, God, he is.

“Fucking shit . . . You—God, I can’t . . . Why do you . . . Fuck! I’m gonna . . . I love how you feel on my dick . . . Jesus, Dena. Swallow it, sweetheart, swallow all my come,” he says, his voice thready and low. “God, please . . . Take it all down, gorgeous girl. I can’t stand it if you don’t. Won’t survive . . .”

My chest warms, and I feel like I’m about to orgasm from his words and the look on his face. God, my pussy’s throbbing, and out of nowhere, I’m wet as could possibly be.

The way he called me sweetheart, and begged me to take something as personal as his come inside my mouth and down my throat, has my heart pounding like crazy and my body begging for more. And I’m obsessed with having a clean mouth, so this reaction from me makes no sense.

A moment later, hot spurts infiltrate my oral cavity.

He grips the back of my head and almost hugs me to his crotch.

It’s hard to breathe now, so I yank on his balls to get him to back off.

“Ahhhh fuck! You
are
my nasty slut, yes! God, yes!” His head snaps away, and his back arches wildly, yet his dick stays tight in my mouth.

His cock hits the furthest reaches of my throat, and I hack and cough to keep from gagging ‘til I puke.

He lets his hands go, and I almost spit him out.

When he’s free, I’m struck with an overwhelming urge—an odd sensation comes over me. I swish his come around in my mouth like it’s mouthwash. I like the way it feels, and I figure it’s antibacterial. I gargle a little bit of it for a second, swallow it down, and when I look at him, his eyes are so dark, so full of fire, I stop breathing.

He grabs my shoulders and says, “Fuck.
You
are kinkier than I ever thought possible. Let’s do that again . . .”

“Can I at least get my oxygen levels up first? My CO2’s are off.”

He laughs and then abruptly hugs me.

“Sweetheart, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me since my voice dropped.” He shifts his hips into me, settling his weight between my thighs.

“Since your balls dropped, too, and I know that’s recent. Like, about five minutes ago . . . When I yanked them into the right spot for you.”

He collapses onto me, shoves me deeper into the bed, and kisses me so hard, with so much force, I’m thinking he didn’t hear that bit about me needing some air.

He has me at an awkward angle, and I’m able to slip my left hand out of the ropes, so I yank on his hair, and he growls, then bites my bottom lip.

Because apparently, that’s what dickhead thieves do after they’ve been sucked off.

Chapter 8

Vapor

Dena sleeps like she’s dead.

I can’t sleep at all.

I’ve fucked her mouth, fucked her pussy more than once, and I want more.

Her ass is calling out to me. Hell . . . every damn inch of her calls out to me.

Dammit . . . Does her skin have to be so fucking soft, glowing and pale?

Her warm breath pelts my chest, and before I lose control and fuck her again while she’s asleep, since I already did that once and it woke her, I move away from her so I can go search for what I need.

The real reason I came back here.

I get up, grab my clothes and manage to tie her wrists to the headboard again so if she wakes up while I’m searching, she can’t interrupt me.

Her house is so clean I can’t keep from touching everything, just to be an obnoxious ass.

It’ll give her something to do tomorrow. She can clean up all my DNA and maybe gross out over the bile threatening at the back of her throat while she does it.

I grab the bag I left by her front door and empty the contents out on her counter.

They should be the ingredients she needs to make her own hand sanitizer. I’m not a total asshole.

I do care that she’s comfortable, even when I’m jamming my dick down her throat.

I only do what she loves, and goddammit, those moans of pleasure that emanate out of her while she’s sucking me off . . .

Not helping. You’re already hard as fuck and need to get a job done. Stop dwelling on the image of her mouth on you.

I shuffle into her office, log on with the temporary password Jason gave me and rifle through her prototype notes for what I took from her.

I’m still not sure what this thing does.

I copy all her notes into my Dropbox account Jason’s monitoring. He’ll promptly empty it and encrypt all the files so she can’t find them in our stuff, should she hack into our shit to try and get it back.

When I’m done, I dig through her desk drawers and can’t find it.

“Shit! He’s gonna kill me,” I hiss through my teeth.

I search through the rest of her office. It isn’t here.

I wind my way back to her bedroom and search for it there, too. She sleeps through it all. I know her video cameras are catching me looking for it, but I don’t give a fuck.

“Where the hell is it?” I whisper in a huff, my hands resting on my hips.

I move out to her kitchen and search that area as well.

Her living room?

I look in every damn crack and crevice, but it’s not here.

Riot! She gave it to that bastard! I know it!

Fuck. I don’t want to break into his house.

Maybe Jason can do it. But the boss won’t like that. He specifically said I had to get this one myself—this job is mine.

I roam back to her room, grab my pocketknife out of my pocket, and leave it on her chest.

The coldness of the knife finally wakes her up.

Her head snaps up and she groans when she sees she’s tied up again.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but you know I can’t resist, and you sleep like you’ve been drugged. Has anyone ever told you that before?” I rest my palm on her ankle. She lets me—leaves her leg in place.

My brow arches up.
Progress
.

My insides heat. She’s not pulling away from me like she usually does from my casual touches after I’ve wasted her body with rough, animalistic sex. Or at least the way she does once she thinks we’re done with the post-coital cuddling, and she gets sick of me telling her over and over how beautiful she is—how amazing and wonderful she’s always been. And how she’s special—better than any woman I’ve ever known. And how I can’t wait to make love to her again.

I look down at my hand on her leg briefly, then shift my eyes back to her face.

She keeps her eyes on mine.

I smile.

She doesn’t.

“No, asshole. No one’s ever said that to me because normal men don’t tie me up when I’m out of it, and they know I’m not drugged. Only you’re sick enough to do it.”

“Only
I’m
privileged enough,” I correct her.

“Only you’re fucked up enough with a glandular problem the size of your head. You really should buy yourself an extra-large sombrero to fit that overly large cranium of yours so I can piss on it. That way you’ll really have a reason to be mad at me.” She exhales, her eyes darkening. “I really don’t know what your problem is, but you need to get a fucking grip.”

I cup myself. “Like this? You wanna grip it for me—make sure I’m doing it properly?” I slide my palm up and down the outline of my hard-on.

“No thanks. I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“Suit yourself. Cut yourself free when you wake up. I’m leaving now.” I motion to the knife on her chest.

“Shit. You really are a dick of epic proportions, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I lilt, lean over and kiss her pubic mound, then smirk. “Catch you later, Ides. Thanks for dinner. It was awesome.”

She growls and snaps her jaw closed.

I didn’t eat anything other than her, but she doesn’t need to know that.

My laughter carries as I exit her place.

* * *

A few days later, I’m headed to the courthouse.

Jason chewed my ass out all morning, whining about how I was running him ragged.

I only shrugged in response. I needed this—needed
her
.

He doesn’t know what it’s like, being painfully erect all the time for a woman that pretends to hate me—only serving to make me want her even more desperately.

“You ready?” I ask my boss.

He holds up a finger as he punches something into his phone with his other hand.

Always doing something.

I roll my eyes and lean my shoulder up against the wall.

“I’m always ready. Are
you
?” he asks finally, when he’s finished.

He stands up and even though I’m taller, he still dwarfs me somehow, his presence threatening.

“Yes, sir,” I say, blinking hard.

“About damn time—you’ve had your head up your ass all week,” the boss says.

“Have not,” I mutter and lead him into the courtroom.

“I don’t like smelling shit in your hair. It’s nauseating.” He chuckles at his poor joke.

I ignore his comment, and fight off an eye roll. The bastard’s in rare form today—Lord help me keep my shoe out of
his
ass.

We find our spot, and I want to ask him how he pushed this hearing through so quickly, but there’s no point. With his money and connections, there’s no telling what he can do or get ahold of.

“And did you ever go back and find it?” He gives me a look of disgust as his first course—dished up with a side of a disappointing groan.

I know what he’s referring to. “No. She’s moved it somewhere else. I think her lawyer has it.”

“Then fucking get it already,” he growls and takes his seat at the front table. Another glare. Seems he’s in a good mood after all.

This should be a pleasant excursion.

I slip into the chair next to his, drum my fingers on the table.

“Get your papers out—at least look like you know what you’re doing.” He leans toward me to deliver his message, then sits back.

“I
do
know what I’m doing.” I open my briefcase and shuffle my papers about, then spread them on the table. I don’t need them. I know this case better than he does. “I’ve been doing this for years.”

Shhhweeeeeek!

The door behind us swings open with a squeak, and in strides Dena, in a light blue dress that buttons down the entire length of her. God, she’s a wet dream at night in her bed, and a demon during the day, wearing that dress.

She’s wearing black heeled boots and matching colored gloves.

I smirk when she gasps the moment she spots me.

Just for kicks, I straighten my black tie, calling attention to it.

Her eyes rake over me, and she rolls her eyes.

My smile burns into my facial features.

I knew she’d like it.

“Why’d you dress like you’re going to a funeral?” the boss whispers next to me.

“It’s all for her—I know what I’m doing.” My eyes keep following her, and my mouth waters. Fuck, I’d give anything to inhale her naughty scent right this instant. She always smells like sex and sin, wrapped up in my come.

She gives me one more fleeting glance before looking away.

I let my eyes move over my wardrobe for a second, taking in my purple shirt and the rest of the black clothing I put on, knowing she appreciates the gesture deep down inside.

I hope she’s wet already and dying to be fucked by me.

Riot walks in a few minutes later, and Dena’s shoulders melt about two inches with her relieved sigh.

My hands clench into fists.

He better keep his distance from her.

If he so much as fucking breathes on her . . . She hates that shit from him. She told me, and I’m not okay with him flirting with my girl.

“Relax,” the boss tells me.

I take a deep breath, hold it and shift toward the front of the room, loosening my jaw and my clenching fists.

Riot sets his bag down on the floor between them.

Judge Clarence enters the room, and I try to keep a neutral expression.

The boss owns this man—like he owns everyone else, including me.

Well, at least, he likes to think he does.

The judge takes a seat, gets comfortable, and a few seconds later I hear the door open behind us again, but I keep my eyes forward. I know who it is—Jason.

“Mr. Thayer, Mr. Reid, let’s get started. I’d like to hear from the plaintiff first,” the judge says.