“Yes, I know, I have to be careful. She’s my boss, and I’m a performer. But, damn, I would throw away school for one more chance to sink into that heat.” The dog tilted her head. “I know she’s your mom and all. I shouldn’t say that about her in front of you, but damn, girl. She’s fine as silk.”
He scrubbed his legs, dragging the towel up to dry his balls. “I could do this all day—be with her.”
He’d jumped out of bed after they’d made love. He felt like a million bucks, like he could run ten miles and not break a sweat. He always did have energy. When he was little, his mom used to yell at him because he couldn’t sit down long enough for her to think. The only time he could recall really being still was when he was sitting on the cold folding chair at his mother’s funeral. But Abigail made his heart thud harder than it ever had before.
He scrubbed the back of his head with the towel, willing the memory to get out. “I’ll be back tonight. I know it’s to do the books, but maybe we can talk. You know? Really talk. I feel like I can just
be
with her. She doesn’t want anything from me that I don’t want to give. She
sees me
, not just the muscle or the sex.”
The thought made him want to turn the clock forward, to wish the afternoon away so he could get back to her faster. He hoped the sex was good for her. She’d come all over his dick. Damn, it was amazing to feel her pussy gripping his cock. It was what did him in. There was no way he could hold back. Her bare, sweet cunt forced his dick to explode. And he loved it.
He looked down at his waist. The proud column of flesh jutted up to his belly button. He couldn’t help but smile. The damn thing had brought her pleasure. At this moment, the thing was more hers than his. And that was fine by him.
“Okay, girl, I have to get going.” He opened the medicine cabinet and squirted a line of mint toothpaste on his finger. After scrubbing his teeth and rinsing, he wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door.
Abigail was standing by the couch in the small living room, folding a pair of socks. “It’s about time. You kidnapped my dog!” She grabbed a pair of blue panties from the wicker basket. “Are you okay, baby girl? Was he mean to you?”
Penelope trotted over to the couch.
“She was more than happy to be in there. Besides, you left me all alone.”
“Please, I knew you’d hog all the water, and I’d be left there standing in the cold breeze.”
“Oh yeah?” He made it to her in three fast strides. The little minx, she swerved to the right and just missed him reaching out to grab her. She rounded the back of the couch and ran for the bedroom. “Oh no! You’re not getting away that easy.”
She jumped on the bed and burrowed under the covers. Goddamn, she was cute. “You’ll never find me under here.”
“I bet I will.” He ripped the towel from his waist. “And when I do, I’m going to fuck you silly.”
“Ha! You have to find me first. Penelope, help me. Get him, girl!”
He looked down. The dog was sitting in the doorway, panting, with her big, pink tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. “Good girl, stay right there.” He tossed the towel on the dresser next to the TV. Two DVDs went sailing to the floor. He thought about leaving them there until he’d had a chance to sink into Abigail’s sweet heat, but he was afraid in their play they’d step on them.
He leaned over and picked up the two discs.
Fantasy Emporium…your fantasy awaits
. He didn’t think much of it. Maybe this was a how-to video or something. Or…
He turned the disc to read further.
“Get him, girl! Sean, you’re no match for my dog.”
He looked up. She was wiggling around in the bed, trying to tuck the covers under herself like a protective shell to keep him out. He smiled. “Your dog is a big softie; hate to break it to you.”
The cover on the disc was pink and red.
Man bathing and getting ready for bed
. What the hell? He flipped over the other disc.
Man self-pleasure, nipple clamps, handcuffs. Oh, hell no.
“Abigail.”
“Come on stud. You can’t get in this fortress now.”
“Abigail! Get out of there. Now.”
Her hands tugged on the cover until her head popped out. Sweaty tangles of hair were plastered to her face. The urge to jump on the bed almost outweighed the need to run. Almost. “Wh-What’s wrong?”
“This!” He fanned the two discs in his hand. “Want to explain these?”
“Wait, I can explain. Please, Sean.”
The sucker punch she landed on his emotional gut made him want to drop to his fucking knees. “All you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to invade my privacy like this. I thought I was doing these for a client. Do you watch all the videos?”
“Sean, please…you don’t understand. I-I…it’s complicated. Yes, I watch most of the videos to make sure they fit the client’s needs. I did watch your video to do just that. But, I just… It was so beautiful.”
“I don’t give a shit how
complicated
it is!” He tossed the discs onto the bed. “The only thing I’ve fought for and won in my whole life is my privacy. Those bastards tried and took it from me so many times, but I fought and finally won. They couldn’t get in anymore. I thought I could trust you! If you were wanting to see me like that, you could’ve just asked me and not snuck behind my back. How many other employees are watching my videos?”
She scrambled off the bed. Her face flushed red as a ripe apple. “None. I swear. Just the editing crew and Carl. S-Sean, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I couldn’t be with… I mean…”
Trembling hands reached for his arms. He couldn’t move fast enough to grab the towel, and her fingertips grazed his elbow. Snapping the terry cloth around his waist, he stepped back. “You were the one who just said you wouldn’t take advantage of me. So is this how you do it? You interview your
performers
and lure them in, then get them to do a video for you? Goddamn, Abigail!”
Sometimes words wounded more than a belt to the ass, more than a fist to the kidney. She hugged her waist and sat down on the bed. Long auburn strands covered her face. “Y-You were just so… I’m sorry. I-I never should have invaded your privacy like that. I c-couldn’t b-be with someone, so I thought—”
“What? You thought it was okay to make me look like a damn fool? Did Ron know I was doing these videos for you?”
Watery eyes looked up at him. “No, I promise. No one knows I ordered them. I don’t want the crew to think I’ve got a private stash of the performers. It’s not like that.”
The room was too small. Especially now that he knew the words had hit their target. TKO, he’d knocked her out and took himself out in the process. If he stayed any longer, he was either going to put his fist through the drywall or pull her against him to soothe the tears he’d caused. Neither seemed like a great option at the moment.
“Tell Ron to get a hold of me if there are any other jobs.” Sean tugged his wrinkled jeans over his hips. “And these”—he stuffed the DVDs into his back pocket—“are going with me.”
By the time he’d found and pulled his T-shirt over his head, she’d crawled under the covers again. Was he supposed to feel sorry for her? She’d filmed him doing private things, things she should’ve asked to see. It would’ve been different if it was someone in bum-fucked Egypt watching him brush his teeth and getting off. It was Abigail. The one person he thought he could learn to trust.
Women are all alike. They take what they want and leave the rest.
Goddamn it, Abigail was supposed to be different.
What in the hell was he going to do now? He’d not only fucked his boss but broke up with her before they could even make a start. If Ron didn’t call within the next few days with something lined up, he’d know his ass had been canned. Women were vindictive. Abigail would be no different.
Shutting the door to her apartment proved harder than he thought it would be. The damn dog sat in the living room watching him through accusing eyes. She knew he’d hurt her mistress. God, he felt like shit.
Chapter Eight
Abigail watched as Ron rearranged the props around a makeshift campfire.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Should we put the tent over there?”
The shoot wasn’t going to take place for another hour. The performers were inside Carl’s cabin, rehearsing their lines. Ron was going like gangbusters getting the set just right. Everything grated against her nerves. The sound of the crickets, the lazy
slush, slush
of the brook behind the cabin, Ron’s cheerful voice; everything made her want to scream.
“Put it wherever you think it would look good.”
He stopped rummaging through the boxes. “All you’ve done all afternoon is sit on that log and mope. What’s up your ass?”
He waited for her to make a snide comment, but she knew it wouldn’t come. “Nothing’s up my butt. How much longer until Carl will be ready? I want to get back.”
“Why?” He pulled out a blue-and-white-speckled coffeepot. “Got a hot date with your stud?”
The look on Sean’s face when he’d found the videos stung her all over again. “No. He’s not my stud.”
“Hey, I was just kidding. Jesus, Abs, you need to go home. You’re bringing bad mojo up here. Anyway, you’ve signed off on the script and everything. Carl’s got this under control. I’ll stay until the shoot’s done. You look like hell. Go home and take a hot bath.”
The way he ticked of his instructions made her want to scratch his eyes out. He was a good friend, but she wanted to be alone. She needed space to think things through. Justin had not only taken everything away from her on that night she’d left him, but he was still managing to take everything away from her now. “Call me if there are any problems.”
“Will do, boss lady. Call me when you get home. It’s a long drive, and I want to know you got home okay.”
“Ron?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think sometimes good people do bad things, but it doesn’t make them bad?”
He spread a green-and-red-checkered blanket on the ground. “Sure. Remember that time in the ER when Eric got punched in the face? That guy’s wife had just died. He did a bad thing, but did that make him a bad person? No, his fucking wife had just died, and Eric was the one who was supposed to save her. Why do you ask?”
The thought of not buckling her seat belt crossed her mind. It was a long ride home. Anything could happen. “No reason. I’ll call you later.”
Ron’s image grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as she drove down the gravel path. She’d call him when she got home. After she pulled into the empty parking lot outside the warehouse and went into her empty apartment. Well, empty except for her dog. Just then she realized how empty her life really was. She might call him. Maybe.
* * * *
“That’ll be sixteen dollars and forty cents.” Sean stared at the Raggedy Ann and Andy bookmark hanging by the register. “Sir?”
“Sorry.” He dug for his wallet and handed the clerk a twenty-dollar bill. “Wait, can you hold on to that? I’ll be right back.”
The clerk scrunched his brow and tucked the twenty into the thick book. There was one more book Sean wanted. He’d been studying it for the last thirty minutes before putting it back on the shelf. The pictures reminded him of her, the woman who had betrayed him. The woman who’d seen him for a moment, then let him go. That was what was eating at him more than anything else. She hadn’t fought for him. Instead, she’d let him walk out that damn door this morning without a single word.
The book fascinated him. The way Alberto Vargas painted the beautiful pinup girls made him remember how Abigail moved like fine silk beneath him. How her eyes smiled before her lips did. How those beautiful lips parted for his tongue. Sean took a step, hoping his hard-on would shift to a more comfortable position. No luck.
Along with the large hardback book of painted darlings, he snagged another book. A paperback titled
Deeper
. He felt like an ass going into the romance section, but he’d spotted the turquoise-colored book on her coffee table that morning and was curious about what she was reading. Thinking about it, everything about the woman fascinated him.
“Here.” He dropped the books on the counter. The young man behind the cash register lifted one brow when he rang up the romance novel.
Yeah, don’t go there, dude.
“You already gave me the twenty, so that’ll be forty-eight eighty-five.”
Sean paid for the books and carried the sack out to his truck. The sun was setting, casting pink and purple spikes across the horizon. It was the perfect start to a warm evening. Throwing some steaks on the grill sounded like a great plan, but he didn’t have a grill.
Abigail does
. Without thinking, he made a stop at the grocery store.
The gym had been packed earlier, so he’d waited to shower until he got home. He tossed the bright yellow gym shorts in the corner and stepped under the cool spray. The memory of those long red-brown strands of hair peeking out from under the covers made him wince. Was she still in bed now? Had she gone to the shoot up at Carl’s cabin? Maybe she stayed there tonight. Maybe she’d watched the actors on the set. Maybe she was right in the middle of it.
Goddamn son of a bitch
. He smeared the lather over his face and down his torso in one long motion. Fuck if he wanted to throw her away like a rag doll. The water stung his face as he rinsed the suds away.
Could she forgive him? Would she even want to? Shit, he didn’t know. He rolled the bar of soap in his hands. The slippery lather felt good on his dick. Not as good as her warmth surrounding him, but it would have to do for now. He tugged a couple of times. Nothing happened. He turned around, letting the pellets of water massage his shoulders. Pulled again. Nothing.
Shit!
He scrubbed the towel over his head as he stepped out of the shower and walked into the bedroom. He opened the top drawer on the bureau and grabbed a clean tank top. The letter she’d written him after his interview still sat where he’d left it. The flowery smell had faded, but her handwriting was as bright as ever. She hadn’t typed the letter. Hadn’t had Ron write one up. No, she’d taken the time to pull out a piece of soft pink stationary and pen him a note.