Authors: Claire Kent
When her eyes focused enough, she saw that he was holding her bracelet. The one she’d left at the spur of the moment in the bathroom. “Oh,” she mumbled, reaching up and snatching it out of his grip. “Sorry. I was taking a bath there earlier and must have forgotten it.”
She’d almost forgotten she’d left it there, but she wasn’t ready to take advantage of it right now. Her whole plan for the night seemed to be spiraling out of control.
She stifled a groan. Furious. At Caleb. At herself. At this whole fucking, unnatural, brutally ironic situation.
Why had she ever thought she could succeed?
She scrubbed at the floor roughly, taking her frustration out on the remaining moisture, although by now the wood was almost totally dry.
When she heard Caleb make an almost inaudible sound, she glanced up at him and gulped. She had to look down again to compose herself—to her response to what she’d seen in his face.
Caleb’s eyes were hot and possessive. The look was absolutely unmistakable. His face was slightly flushed, and his breathing had picked up momentum.
Kelly knew when a man was aroused, without even having to check his crotch.
She felt a surprising wave of dominance wash over her as she realized that this might actually work after all. The evening would take shape a little differently than she’d intended, but her ultimate goal might still be in sight.
She needed to get close to him—if she was ever going to discover a way to bring him down—and the only way to get close to him was with sex.
Scrubbing more vigorously at the floor, she realized that the neckline of her T-shirt was hanging very low, revealing a substantial expanse of her jiggling breasts, which were bouncing from her motion. Her hair was hanging down in a swinging fall of gold, and her ass was displayed to good advantage.
With her eyes downcast, she kept rubbing the floor at Caleb’s feet.
“Kelly.” His voice was rough and thick—with the unmistakable note of desire.
“What?” she mumbled, pleased when the T-shirt slipped to expose her shoulder. “Sorry I broke the vase.”
“I don’t care about the damned vase. You don’t have to do that.”
She was overly hot from her exertion on the floor, but she could feel a dark kind of pleasure well up at the knowledge that he was falling for her after all. “I don’t want the water to stain. The floors are beautiful.”
“Kelly.”
She stopped, and sighed deeply, which pushed her nipples briefly against the thin fabric of her shirt. She rose to her knees, looking up at his tense expression.
Since her face was strategically placed in front of his pelvis, she slid her eyes lower until they were focused on his groin. Stared at the obvious bulge beneath the tightened fabric of his gray trousers.
Kelly gasped. Her eyes flew up. “Caleb?” She made her voice into a breathless question.
And that did it.
He pulled her up by the shoulders and, before she was firmly set on her feet, hauled her body toward him. He closed his mouth over hers in a hard and hungry kiss.
Her first instinct was to jerk back. To get away—in any way she could—from his face, body, heat, scent, and touch. She knew who he was now, and she wasn’t allowed to want him. But she fought against the instinct. She made herself relax in his arms. Sent her real self far away, where Caleb could never touch it.
His hands were firm and strong around her rib cage. He slid them down to cup her butt, pulling her snugly against his arousal.
At the insistence of his urgent lips, Kelly opened for him. She felt his tongue in her mouth. She tried to focus on impersonal details, not who this was—not what she was doing.
Details were safe and could be revealing. She might be able to use them in some way, if only she could keep her wits about her and not weaken in this.
The fingers of one of his hands kept twitching on her ass, tightening in erratic little squeezes around the soft flesh. His other hand had moved higher to get a fist of her hair—and then to start stroking rhythmically down the long length of it.
Caleb was breathing heavily through his nose as his tongue plundered her mouth. And his kiss and his breathing grew more and more frantic, as if he were drinking her in, inhaling her, devouring her.
Kelly’s hands clutched at the muscles of his back—and it wasn’t difficult to make herself dig her fingernails in through the fabric of his soft shirt. Still trying to concentrate only on details, she made a little grunt against his mouth when she felt his teeth.
His pelvis was thrusting against her middle—in small, unconscious pushes. The hard bulge felt strangely unnatural against her lower belly. But it wasn’t important. It was something she had felt many, many times before.
It didn’t matter who this was. It didn’t matter that her body was responding a little to him. He was just a man. And men were all the same. Made up of parts. And the parts could use you only if you let them.
She wasn’t going to let Caleb use her, although he couldn’t know that yet.
His teeth were still grazing her lips, and he was groaning low in his throat. Kelly realized that he was groaning from pleasure because she was grinding her hips against him—skillfully responding to the steady advances of his pelvis. Her breasts were smashed up against his chest, and she was rubbing them against him—partly because she wanted him more turned on and partly because she was getting a little turned on herself.
She was off balance and overly hot, but she wasn’t out of control. It didn’t matter that this was wrong in every way. She had to do it anyway. And it didn’t matter whether her body wanted it or not.
Before she could figure out the next best step, Caleb tore his mouth away.
Kelly grunted in surprise, hoped he wasn’t changing his mind or rethinking things at this point.
He just stared at her—something wild in his face, the way it had been in the woods. Her pussy clenched at the memory, at his expression now. “Kelly?” he asked. “Are you feeling well enough for this?”
Her mind was working quickly, trying to figure out what he wanted to hear. “Yes. I want it. So bad.”
And that was it. It wasn’t according to plan, but it had worked anyway.
Both of them started grabbing at his T-shirt until he finally pulled it off in one quick move.
She lifted her hands to caress the strong planes and firm muscles of his chest.
It was better if she didn’t look at his face. Better if she didn’t think about who this was. She would pretend he was a sexy stranger she’d just met in a bar.
Concentrating only on the details—the darker shading of his nipples—she fondled them, rubbing up against his groin again with her hip. She heard him gasp in response.
Suddenly he was pushing her backward, until she was on her back on the bed. He was over her. On top of her. His mouth closing over her breast through the cotton of her T-shirt.
He was skilled with his tongue. It fluttered over her nipple expertly. Which was a good thing, since she needed to be more aroused than she was.
Her body started responding, and her feelings and memories resisted that response—denying any possibility of her father’s murderer giving her pleasure. She forced them down, though, in an intentional mental move.
She needed this for her plan to work. Needed it. It didn’t matter at all if her body liked it. It would be better that way. So she relaxed, curving her fingers around his head. Took deep breaths. Closed her eyes. Thought only about the sensations.
He nipped at her nipple, and Kelly felt the corresponding tug at her center. His hand slid up, played with her other breast, and she arched her back as the sensations collected automatically—no matter who was doing this to her.
Her T-shirt now had a wet patch over one breast from the moisture of Caleb’s mouth, and soon it felt like the wet fabric was nonexistent.
Kelly realized that she hadn’t been making any noises, so she released a husky moan. Pushed Caleb’s head into her breast. The dual sensations from his mouth and his fingers—on both of her breasts simultaneously—was starting to work. Her breathing quickened. She felt herself grow a little wet.
Focused on that. Not on who was making it so.
His hands were now skimming over her body. They started to push up her T-shirt. Kelly took advantage of the conveniently bunched fabric, pulling the shirt over her head, baring her body to him completely.
It was hard to judge whether she should be passive in this encounter or if she should take initiative in how and what they did. It was difficult to get a good read on what would appeal to Caleb the most, since she was so disoriented by the emotions and sensations. But he’d liked being in control in the woods, so she gave it to him again now.
She let him do what he wanted and tried to pretend to herself that she didn’t want it too.
The room was silent except for the slightly springy sound of the bed as Caleb positioned himself between her legs. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel him rubbing against her naked body—something odd about the contrast between his bare chest and his clothed legs and hips.
She was doing all right for the moment, but she needed to open her eyes—at least to go through with the next series of steps. Taking another deep breath, Kelly forced her eyes open. She directed her gaze at his face, trying not to focus too clearly.
Caleb’s face was a blur, but she could feel his hand buried in her hair, spreading the strands out against the pillow. His eyes were raking over her—she noticed this only when her vision started to focus more effectively—and on his face was that same heat, same dominance, same possession. It was just like the other day. And his speed had slowed down to a smoldering, leisurely crawl.
She hated it. Hated everything it implied. Hated the way her body kept reacting to it. Wanted to claw at his expression, to pull his skin off in strips to make that look disappear. She wanted to cover her breasts and her groin, suddenly feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t in years.
It shouldn’t matter. Countless men had seen her body, in more depraved contexts than this. But this felt worse than anyone seeing her naked before.
She shifted her eyes down to his chest, unable to look at his face anymore. She began to fumble at the front of his pants until they were unfastened, making her movements intentionally clumsy and eager. When she pushed his pants down over his lean hips, he moved to pull them off completely.
Then Caleb was naked above her—hot and ruthless and everywhere.
Kelly panicked with a momentary wave of dizziness. She had to close her eyes and clench her fists in order to keep from pushing him away. But she didn’t fight against the feelings. Instead, she let them wash over her. Moved into them. Recognized them for what they were—irrational terror of this superficial act, which was merely a physical motion between two bodies—and thus was able to overcome it.
Breathing deeply, Kelly opened her eyes and arched beneath him, moaning a little. She rubbed her pelvis against his erect cock. Despite her panic, her body was still responsive from the stimulation. It should be all right. She could do this.
So she squirmed beneath him, trying to get more friction to trigger more of her physical arousal. She was starting to feel more comfortable and in control of the situation. Starting to remember her prepared strategy.
Then—fuck!—he was kissing her again.
His kisses were the hardest part, and she’d thought he was through with that brand of torture. But his mouth was moving over hers again, ravenous and greedy, and her own mouth was far too eager in response. His tongue was fluttering in a series of moves that she wasn’t coherent enough to trace.
Soon she was having trouble getting enough air through her nose and felt a wave of claustrophobia overtake her.
Tearing her mouth away, she turned her head and gasped out, “Caleb, please. I want you now.”
His lips had moved to her throat, but that was much more acceptable than her mouth. He murmured over her skin, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” she replied, her fingers once more skimming down his back. “Condom.”
Caleb pulled up and stared down at her, his eyes holding hers. “Right.” He shook his head a little, as if trying to pull himself together. She could feel his erection pressing into her thigh, so she knew focusing might be a bit difficult for him. “I have some upstairs.” He groaned a little and rolled off her, then off the bed. “I’ll get them.”
He looked tense and uncomfortable, which was absolutely perfect. So Kelly took advantage of it. “I have a couple in my purse,” she said breathlessly. “Inner pocket.”
Caleb went to grab her clutch purse, and Kelly rubbed at her clit under the covers, which she had pulled up halfway over her body, hoping to get herself a little wetter while he was busy.
The search for the condom was rushed and clumsy, but Caleb eventually pulled a packet out of the inner pocket of her purse. He came back over, pulled back the covers, and got into bed with her once more.
Tearing the packet open, Caleb rolled on the condom, which was prelubricated.
He positioned himself between her legs again and felt at the juncture between her thighs, his hands brushing over her pussy. Kelly moaned and pumped her hips when he pressed his fingertips into her clit, and she continued moving her pelvis, so that he couldn’t explore much farther. “Caleb,” she whimpered. “Please. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
He leaned down and kissed her again, his tongue sliding along the line of her lips. He was a good kisser. An excellent kisser. He knew exactly what he was doing, and her body kept automatically responding to him.
But all she could think about was her father’s face, that day they’d been hiking in the woods. She’d never seen him again—not alive anyway.
He’d written a memo to Caleb before he died, mentioning his concern over some of the research results, and he’d been shot dead not long afterward. Kelly had a whole file of evidence that testified to Caleb’s ruthlessness. He lied. Manipulated. Cheated. Stole. Bullied.
And killed.
He’d killed her father, as truly as if he’d pulled the trigger.
Pulling out of the kiss again, Kelly whimpered once more. This time, it was more from pained desperation than from unwanted pleasure, but she figured that, at this point, it would be difficult to tell the difference.