Authors: Claire Kent
“Kelly,” Caleb said thickly. “You want this?”
She’d already answered that damned question. More than once.
Why wouldn’t he just shut up and fuck her?
“Yeah,” she whispered. Needing to distance herself in any way she could, she started to roll over onto her stomach, deciding rear entry would be easier psychologically and thus much more comfortable. She wouldn’t have to look at his face.
But Caleb stopped her before she could turn over, holding his hands on her shoulders. “Kelly?”
Swallowing hard, she tilted onto her side again and murmured, “I was going to let you—”
“No,” he replied softly, pushing her onto her back with the position of his body. He brought his hands down to part her legs and line up his cock at her entrance. “This is good.”
With a sigh, Kelly submitted to the position and clutched at his shoulders, forced her muscles to relax. She closed her eyes and jerked her head to the side as Caleb started to sink inside her.
It wasn’t uncomfortable. She was a lot more aroused than she’d expected, and the condom was lubed. The substance of his cock pushed into her easily, and her body automatically accommodated itself to his size.
But she had a hard time distancing herself appropriately.
She’d never been a big fan of missionary, since the man fucking her was right there, right in her face, and touching her everywhere. In her plans for this moment, Caleb had always been taking her from behind, in a way that wouldn’t force her to think of him as a man. This—was more difficult.
She moaned a little, because she knew she needed to keep up her performance, but she mostly concentrated on breathing deeply and keeping her mind from dwelling on what she was doing.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathed, his mouth so close to her skin that his breath wafted across the side of her face.
She hated the sound of the raspy exclamation, but it was a good sign. He liked how she felt. So, remembering the details she’d planned earlier, Kelly started writhing beneath him, bucking up her hips as if she were desperate for the stroke of his cock. “Caleb,” she panted. “Caleb, please.”
He made a strange grunt and held himself perfectly still. And she knew he was staring at her face or her body, because she could feel his eyes burning into her skin.
She arched up and wrapped her legs around him, in a way she knew men really enjoyed. She squeezed her muscles as she thrust her pelvis, riding him from below.
Caleb groaned again—long, low, and desperate. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”
She opened her eyes at that, felt like she had to. This was important. She needed to appear more enthusiastic. She kept her voice husky and overwhelmed as she whispered, “So are you.” She bucked up erratically a few times. “Please, Caleb, fuck me.”
He straightened his arms, raising his upper body higher—a move that Kelly greatly appreciated. He was farther away this way. She couldn’t feel his breath or see the little lines beside his mouth and eyes. She breathed a little easier and stretched with a lingering groan—partly for effect, and partly to clear the remnants of her panic.
Caleb pulled back his pelvis, until just of the tip of his cock was left in her body. The muscles in his arm rippling tightly, he thrust back into her, levering his hips up as he drove forward.
Under different circumstances, Kelly would definitely have enjoyed it, but there was absolutely no way she was going to reach orgasm tonight. But she knew how to act. She arched back her neck and gasped loudly at the stroke of his cock.
He pulled back again. Thrust forward. Levered up. Kelly dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his biceps, as if she were clutching at him in urgent response.
She continued moving her body restlessly—squirming beneath him, pumping up against his thrusts, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow. But she kept her vocal response intentionally subdued.
Caleb wouldn’t be convinced by screams and howls of pleasure. So Kelly bit her lip, as if she were trying to contain her response to the sensations he was generating. As he fucked her, she twisted her face more and more. It probably looked like pleasure—she was pretty confident that it would—but it was mostly part of the performance, and from the knowledge that this was Caleb Marshall inside her.
The same Caleb Marshall who had killed her father.
After a few minutes of his slow, steady strokes—strong, controlled, and designed to give pleasure—Kelly made a stifled mewling sound and tightened her thighs around his hips. Deciding she had looked up at him for long enough, she turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes closed, contorting her face as she whimpered again.
“Kelly,” he said roughly.
She didn’t know what he wanted but hoped he was just checking for her reaction. “Yeah?” she gasped, biting down hard on her lip.
“Can you come?” His arms were still tense and straight, providing a strategic angle for him to drive into her. She knew his restraint must be weakening because his body was trembling with strain and heat. She wasn’t watching him, but she could feel his response just the same.
“Yeah,” she replied hoarsely. “Think so.” She rocked beneath him, moving easily with his rhythm and accelerating with him as his thrusts became shorter and faster. “Yeah,” she rasped in response to his faster motion. “Good. Faster, Caleb.”
She didn’t want to extend this any longer than necessary. Things were going all right for now, but it could fall apart at any moment.
And she really wanted to get him out of her body.
Caleb released a hoarse groan and panted heavily as he pumped into her, his cock sliding slickly in her tightened channel with a tempo that was growing more uncontrolled. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him—his hard flesh inside her, his firm ass beneath her heels, the heat of his body radiating out to her bare skin.
She wasn’t close to coming. Didn’t even feel very much. But it wasn’t physically uncomfortable, and she didn’t have to look at him now.
He wasn’t that much different from any other man.
Deciding it had been long enough for an orgasm to be realistic, she started to jerk her body erratically beneath him. “Yeah,” she gasped, tilting her head back. “Yeah, yeah.” She slid a hand down between their bodies—there was just enough room, since he was holding his body off hers—and rubbed at her clit.
Twisting her face into a tight mask, she whimpered one last time—then, with a few more jerks of her hips, she let out a frantic little sob. She convulsed beneath him, tightening her thighs and her inner muscles around him.
She clamped down around his cock as hard as she could, and she heard him release a burst of uncontrolled sound. His body was tensed so rigidly that she could feel it with her eyes closed. He gave a few last pushes into her clenched muscles, and released a smothered shout.
And he was coming—above her, inside her, around her—his body an unleashed coil.
They were both gasping as his spasms finally faded. Kelly made sure her body twitched occasionally, and she forced herself to relax completely, as if in the aftermath of pleasure.
But, before she could figure out the best way to handle the afterward, Caleb’s elbows buckled, and his weight pressed down on her—warm, sated, damp, and heavy.
And it was horrible. The worst part of the entire experience.
Worse than his kisses. Worse than his possessive, exposing gaze. Worse than his thrusting, or his mouth on her breast, or his hands moving all over her flesh.
Something was utterly unspeakable about the feel of his relaxed, satisfied body on top of her. Kelly tried to think rationally. Tried to plan her strategy, making use of the way he had obviously taken pleasure in her.
But instead she thought of her father.
She pictured her father’s face when he smiled. When he laughed. When he hugged her. When he’d been hiking with her that morning.
She thought about how her father’s little girl had just willfully fucked his murderer.
He was on top of her. All over her. A sweltering, inescapable weight. His cock was softening inside her, and his face was buried in her hair. He was panting. She thought she could even feel his heart beating.
Kelly started to choke.
She saw her father’s body on the ground, his skull half blown out. Blood all over the dirt trail. She felt Caleb’s cock pulsing inside her, heard him grunting out his pleasure.
Unthinkingly, she pushed at Caleb’s shoulders until he pulled out and rolled off her. She had just enough sense to stretch and breathe out, “God, that was good,” as she got more distance from him.
Her head turned away from him, she took deep breaths until the flurry of emotional reaction subsided.
What the hell was the matter with her?
Yes, it had been hard, but she could do this. She wasn’t weak, and he wasn’t going to get away with what he’d done.
Women throughout history had done this very thing. Slept with men who were their enemies. Sometimes constructing elaborate deceptions. Some of which lasted their whole lives. It was possible. There were dozens of precedents she could name.
She could do this too. She just needed to harden herself a little more.
He had lied to the world, so she would lie to him.
He manipulated others, so she would manipulate him.
He thought he was untouchable, so she would make sure he was touched.
If she had to turn into Caleb to beat him, then she could do that.
She
would
do that.
“You okay?” he asked from beside her.
When she turned back, she saw that he’d taken care of the condom and was now watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
She smiled. “Yeah. Seconds usually aren’t that good.” She reached over to brush her fingers over his chest. “Even with a concussion.”
“Damn,” he breathed, his expression changing. “I forgot about the concussion. I thought you seemed a little—”
A flare of panic caused her skin to chill briefly, the fear that she hadn’t deceived him enough. “I seemed what? I thought it was pretty good.”
“It was.” He gave her his familiar, sexy smile. “I wasn’t complaining. Something just felt a little off, and now it makes sense. The doctor told you to rest, and I’m not sure that counts as resting.”
She laughed softly, disturbingly aware that her amusement over his dry tone and ironic expression was real. “Not exactly resting, no. Although honestly, I expected something a little less vanilla from you.”
That got a reaction. He arched his eyebrows. “Vanilla?”
“Missionary under the covers?” She leveled him an obvious, teasing challenge with her gaze. “I expected more from you. What happened to your basement of pleasurable torment?”
He laughed, his eyes warm and appreciative, lingering on her face and naked body. “I told you that was only if you asked very nicely.”
Her breath hitched at the husky texture of his voice, at the tingles of interest it triggered between her legs. She wasn’t going to be upset by this. It was good. It meant he was still interested. He had to keep wanting her if or she would lose her excuse for staying close to him.
And it didn’t matter that she wanted him too.
“Hmm.” She turned on her side so she was facing him. “Somehow, I think you’re the one who’s going to have to ask nicely.”
Her half-seductive, half-challenging tone must have been effective, because he was suddenly over her, his body big and far too warm, his hand cupping her face. “Little blossom, I guarantee you’re the one who’s going to be begging for it.”
A clench of desire tightened and released inside her, flushing her cheeks, warming her skin. She forced herself not to roll away from him to hide her reaction, to rehearse all the reasons she had to hate him.
“You like the sound of that, don’t you?” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.
“I’ll like it even more when you’re the one who’s begging.”
He was so close his soft laughter wafted against her skin. She was more aroused now than she’d been during sex, and she kept telling herself it was good.
The more her body was into this, the easier this plan would be. She needed to let her body enjoy itself so the rest of her could do what was needed.
It wasn’t a betrayal. It was just good strategy.
Next time, she would make sure she let her body enjoy it more.
Tonight had been a minor defeat, but it was not the end of the war.
So Kelly started to harden herself again, preparing herself for what would come next, for what the next days and weeks would hold for her.
She would have to fuck him again and again. She would have to get him to trust her. She would have to convince him to let down his guard enough, so she could find and reveal his dark secrets. She would have to make sure she was never this weak again.
There was a truth that the soldiers she’d fucked always told her about going to battle.
The first time was always the worst.
The next morning she woke up feeling better.
The first thing she had to do today was to settle the fact that she would stay with Caleb for the near future. Hopefully he would suggest it again, so she could act like she was caving and finally agree.
She couldn’t trust him to bring it up on his own, though. Even if he wanted to continue having sex with her, he might not want her to make herself at home at his place indefinitely. But she needed to stay here—as close to him as she could get—and he needed to think it was his idea.
Overnight, she’d come up with an idea, so she got up early, put a bathrobe on over the T-shirt she was still wearing, and quietly walked downstairs.
Caleb should be leaving for work in a little while. She just needed to find somewhere he was likely to see her but didn’t look like she was trying to be seen.
She got a cup of coffee as an excuse for being downstairs, thanking Breah—and making sure the housekeeper saw where she was heading from there.
She settled in a small, pleasant sunroom and immediately pulled out her phone.
She started to write an email to herself, repeating the same sentence over and over.
Several minutes passed without any sign of Caleb, and she was starting to resign herself to another failed idea when a voice from the doorway made her jump. “You’re up early.”
Remembering what she was supposed to do, she ducked the phone quickly out of sight into the pocket of her robe. “Yeah,” she said with a smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Caleb was dressed in another suit, looking so sexy and sophisticated that she was momentarily breathless. And more breathless when he walked over with a possessive heat in his eyes.
She let him pull her to her feet, reminding herself that she was going to let her body enjoy his touch. It wasn’t a betrayal. It was another weapon she could use in this war.
“You look irresistibly rumpled this morning,” he murmured, tilting his head down toward her. “Like someone finally gave you the kind of fuck you needed.”
Her mind was a hot blur of conflicted responses, her body loving the arrogant satisfaction of his tone and her mind deeply resenting it.
Before either could come out victorious, Caleb slipped a hand into the pocket where she’d put her phone and smoothly pulled it out.
He was actually bringing up the screen display when she snatched it back out of his hand.
“What the hell?” she demanded, not having to fake any of her indignation. The bastard thought he had the right to invade her privacy, to look at her phone. “That’s not yours.”
She stuffed the phone back into the pocket, glaring at him, feeling a tremor of fear at the idea of his seeing the email she’d just been writing, which was made up of
What the fuck am I doing?
repeated about a hundred times.
Her phone was passcode protected, but it didn’t make the fear of his seeing it any less real.
Just the corner of his lips tilted up. “I wanted to see what you were doing. You looked so intense and secretive.”
“Well, next time, ask like a normal person instead of behaving like a presumptuous ass.”
His expression changed again, and he slid a hand down the line of her spine until it was resting on the small of her back. Tilting his head closer to her, he murmured warmly, huskily, “Wouldn’t you like to tell me?”
Torn between more anger and involuntary amusement, she pulled away from him. His instinctive entitlement was absolutely outrageous. “That’s not how a normal person asks either.”
“I bet it would work, though.”
It probably would. He could probably charm or seduce the secrets out of anyone he set his mind to, and she’d have to be very careful to not let it work on her too.
He wasn’t even making a serious attempt right now. He was having fun with her. She could see the glint of humor in his eyes, and something inside her wanted to respond to it.
She smothered that weak little part of herself, though, and remembered why she was here in the first place. “If you want to know something, just ask.”
“What were you doing just now, when I came in?”
She sighed, as if resigning herself to answer him—even though she’d come down here on purpose to tell him this very thing. “I was emailing someone I know. Trying to get some more information on…”
She trailed off strategically.
He obviously knew whom she was referring to. Her fictional ex-lover who’d sent the thugs after her. “Any news?”
She shook her head, letting her shoulders and head slump.
“You know, I could help, if you’d let me.” His voice was different now, nothing playful or teasing about it. It was quiet, thoughtful.
“I already told you that it’s my problem, and I’m going to deal with it.”
“But that’s stupid, and I’m not in the habit of accepting stupidity from people I know aren’t stupid.”
The words were blunt, almost rude, but she realized they were also almost a compliment. He must have a certain amount of respect for her if he expected her to make sensible choices.
She wasn’t here to be sensible, though. At all. “It’s not your problem, Caleb. Stop pushing.”
“I’m not going to stop pushing until you tell me what I want to know.”
In a way, his matter-of-fact stubbornness right now was just as outrageously entitled as his grabbing her phone earlier. And, without the teasing veneer, it was even more likely to work.
She made a frustrated noise, as if in resignation, and rubbed her face briefly with both hands. “Okay, fine. I got involved with the wrong guy. He won’t take no for an answer.”
“Is this the guy who texted in the park, who wouldn’t take no for an answer?”
She thought about using the text he’d seen her receive from Jesse to solidify the lie, but she was afraid her expression back then hadn’t been quite right to pull that off now. “No. That was just a random guy. This other guy is—different.”
“He’s turned dangerous.”
“Yeah.”
“Who is he?”
“I’m not going to tell you that.”
“Why—”
“Because I don’t want you involved. I’m not coming to you for help or anything. I told you that before. I don’t want you dragged in. Things just got out of control. I can get it together again, though.”
“How exactly?” He looked like he believed her—not particularly sympathetic, but like he was curious, like there was a puzzle to solve. “Have you gone to the police?”
“I did at the beginning, but it just made things worse.”
“But that was a direct attack on Sunday night. The police would have to—”
“No police. He’s—he’s connected, and I can’t trust the police.” She’d developed a whole backstory where she could feed him pieces of information that wouldn’t get him anywhere but would give the impression of her being in real danger. She saw Caleb’s expression change as he processed the words.
“Connected.”
“Yeah.”
“You really did get involved with the wrong guy,” he murmured.
“Tell me about it.”
That was all she could tell him right now. Any more would give him too much to work with, and she needed to string him along for at least a couple of weeks.
He stood in front of her, absently rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, obviously thinking through what she’d told him.
“So, you see why I don’t want anyone else dragged into this.”
“Sure, but I also see why you need my help.” He’d evidently made up his mind. “When you go back to your apartment, what’s going to stop him from coming after you again?”
She looked away from him and gave a helpless little shrug, hoped it was convincing.
“So stay here. For a while. My security is top-of-the-line. You’ll be safer here than anywhere else.”
It was exactly what she’d been hoping to hear.
“I can’t stay here indefinitely, Caleb.”
“Why not? It won’t be forever. Just until you can figure out something to do.” His tone was light, persuasive, and there was that glint of clever humor in his eyes again.
She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that soon she’d cave and tell him all of her secrets, so he could get the answers to this new mystery that had intrigued him. He was pleased with himself for finding a way to snare a woman who refused to let herself get caught.
She had to let him think that, even though it was wrong.
There was no way in hell she would ever tell this man her secrets.
“Okay,” she said, after a long hesitation. “Fine. I’ll stay for now, but it’s not going to be for long.”
“Good.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll be back earlier today.”
“Okay. I’m really sorry about dragging—”
“Don’t apologize again. I pressured you into coming here in the first place, didn’t I?”
“Well, yeah.”
“And I pressured you to stay. So I dragged myself into this. I might be able to help you, if you let me.”
She checked his expression and saw he still wasn’t soft or tender. He did seem to want to help, but it was more like it was a challenge—a chance to prove that he was an equal to some honcho in organized crime.
Men never really outgrew being boys.
She spent the day taking it easy, pretending to recover, and making plans. She even said hello to Ralph, the German shepherd. She asked if someone could take her over to her apartment so she could get some of her stuff, and—after phoning Caleb for permission—one of the security team drove her over. At six, she was in the window seat in her room, acting like she was reading. She was mostly just watching for Caleb’s car to return.
For the first time in a long time, she felt something akin to hope. There was no happy ending in this for her. She wasn’t deceived about that. The most she could hope for was a dark sort of victory.
Just an answer. A way to move on from a path in the woods with blood soaking into the dirt.
But, at this point, she’d be happy for even that.
Caleb normally stayed in his apartment in the city during the week, but he’d been driving out to his house in the evenings instead—she assumed because of her. At twenty after six, she saw his Mercedes pull in through the gates, and she put down her book.
She knew what she was going to do.
She was already dressed strategically, in a cream-colored camisole, sheer sweater, and a long, soft skirt. He’d teased her on Saturday about her bohemian appearance, but he’d also seemed to like it, so she figured she’d work with that. He thought she looked pure, innocent, untouched, like a blossom, so she would use that to her advantage too.
Her hair was hanging down long and loose, and she was barefoot.
She went up to his bedroom, sat on the edge of his bed, and waited, her heartbeat speeding up from growing nerves.
Last night, he’d issued a challenge, and she was going to meet it. He believed he had the upper hand when it came to sex, but he was wrong about that. He was the one who was going to be begging.
And, if her body enjoyed itself along the way, then there was no help for that.
Caleb blinked in surprise when he walked into the room and saw she was waiting for him. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t look annoyed. In fact, as she watched, she thought she saw a spark of interest and pleasure ignite in his eyes. He was surveying her appearance with leisurely possessiveness.
She cleared her throat, trying to look grateful and a little shy. “I was afraid I might not have conveyed appropriate appreciation yesterday. Or even this morning. I was kind of shaken by everything, but I’m feeling better now. So I wanted to thank you.”
His eyes had been lingering on the outline of her nipples through her thin camisole, but he raised them to her face to meet her gaze. “So, this is a thank-you?”
“Not this, exactly,” she said, a lilt in her voice. She stood up, hiding a little smile. “You’ll see.”
“Ah.” He smiled back, obviously reading her intent. He started to take off his suit jacket. “What did you have in mind?”
“I thought I’d help you—
unwind
—after a hard day of work, if that’s of any interest to you.” She smiled again, letting her own gaze crawl over his fine body in its expensive suit and tie. She focused on the front of his pants and was pleased that he was already getting aroused. “I see you like that idea.”
“I think it’s possible you might like it yourself.”
“Sit down,” she said, gesturing toward the side of the bed. “And let me thank you.”
He cleared his throat.
“Sit down,” she repeated.
He moved to do as she said, murmuring, “You’re going to try to make me beg, aren’t you?”
Damn the man. He was way too clever for his own good.
The teasing in his voice and the way he seemed to read her motivations unsettled her, so she gave him a quick disapproving look. “Of course not. I just said I’m here to help you unwind. So you sit there quietly like a good boy.”
He chuckled, low in his throat, but he didn’t object. When he’d settled himself on the side of the bed, she lowered herself to her knees on the floor in front of him. She made sure her hair was hanging prettily over one shoulder and told herself this wasn’t going to be a problem.
This was going to be much easier than the sex she’d had last night.
Kelly pushed his knees apart some and reached to unfasten his belt and pants. When she’d freed his cock, she brushed her fingertips along his length. She heard him suck in his breath, and massaged him until he was fully erect.
His thighs were soon tense on either side of her body, and he was already breathing heavily. She reached over to where she’d left the condoms and tore open the packet with her teeth.
She adjusted herself more comfortably, took his hard cock in one hand, rolled on the condom with her mouth.
Caleb was leaning back on his hands, which were splayed out on the bed behind him. She could feel that his belly, underneath the shirttails of his white dress shirt, was getting as tense as his thighs. He was obviously staying quiet on purpose, proving that he wasn’t going to lose control in this little power play.
But she was good at this. And she hadn’t even started.
She glanced up to check his expression. He was slightly flushed, and was staring at her with a hot possessiveness and an undercurrent of dry amusement.