The Love of Money II - Chapter 18: Behind Closed Doors

Thursday, September 12th, 6:20 pm

“So, are you happy to be back?” Emily asked me.

“God, yes,” I said around another mouthful of lamb stew.

Whatever I was paying Camille, it wasn’t enough. This recipe was just like something I had eaten three years ago on a family vacation and had raved about. It honestly still haunted me sometimes. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if Emiko had a hand in it, calling my mother and getting her recommendations on my favorite foods so Camille could tailor my meals even more specifically to my tastes.

Well, She was doing a fucking fantastic job, and if this was what eating at home was like now, dining out was officially ruined.

“What did you eat out there?” Helen asked, amused at my enthusiasm.

After our tryst in my study, Helen and I had fallen asleep for the better part of two hours on the couch before Erin awakened us for dinner. After she left, Helen and I spent a few minutes making out before getting dressed, and by the time we entered the dining room, it was as if nothing had changed. Helen was still her calm, poised self. Every look and word was calculated and delivered with surgical precision. To everyone else, she was once more a queen.

Even Erin seemed to act completely normal despite her role in the older woman’s degradation. The only evidence that something had shifted was the collar around her neck—something fashionable to anyone but the most discerning.

I took a moment to swallow my bite of food, admiring her sharp, aristocratic beauty and enjoying how unfazed she seemed by what we’d just done together.

“Not this,” I said, answering Helen’s question. “Chloe and I found some survival rations and managed to make them last. It wasn’t much, though.”

“No hunting and gathering?” Emily asked.

“We weren’t to that point, yet,” I said, “but I’m sure Chloe had a plan.”

Emily looked like she was about to say something, but was interrupted as Jessica entered the room.

My ex-girlfriend looked good, her fair, unblemished skin contrasting with the dark cloth of the maid’s uniform she wore. It was a modernized version of the classic—the black with white trim, but with a different, updated design meant to retain the traditional feel without coming off as some outdated fantasy.

The pleated skirt fell to her knees, and she wore white stockings with black shoes. The shirt was short-sleeved and buttoned up to her sternum, where a window had been cut into the fabric to display cleavage that managed to straddle the line between tasteful and obscene. There were a couple of more buttons that fastened together above the window, hiding the hollow of her throat. She wore a simple white kerchief in her dyed red hair, keeping it out of her face.

I found it hard to keep my eyes off of her.

More specifically, my eyes kept drifting to her tits.

And the moment I managed to make eye contact with her, I was sure she knew what kind of effect her uniform was having on me. I knew her well enough that I could tell she was pleased.

“Excuse me, M—” she hesitated, her grey-blue eyes glancing around the room at all the others eating at the table with me. “Mr. Upton? You asked me to let you know when Phoebe was home?”

“Oh! Good!” I said. I thought about telling Jess to bring her here, but considering how upset Phoebe had been on the phone, I decided it was best to see her in private and save her the embarrassment of possibly breaking down in front of the others. “Is she in the apartment Emiko gave her?”

“Yes,” Jessica said, and then a beat later, “sir.”

“Okay,” I said. “Could you prepare some of this soup and take it to her? Let her know that I’ll be by in a few minutes to see her.”

Jessica looked like she wanted to say something but bit her tongue at the last second. It was unlike her.

“Yes, sir,” she finally said and retreated to the kitchen to do as she was asked.

“Phoebe is your old neighbor?” Natashya asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “She’s the one who called me about her husband running off with her kid. I’m going to help her get him back. It’s the reason why we left Norway so soon,” I said, then clarified, “at least… part of the reason.”

Natashya tilted her head and stared at me thoughtfully, finally saying, “That is very kind of you.”

“Jim’s an ass,” I said, waving off her compliment. “And she’s a friend.”

The chair scraped across the floor as I stood up. “Sorry, I’m going to cut this short. Phoebe’s probably chomping at the bit to talk to me.” I glanced at Erin, sitting in the seat next to me. “Did Psalter say whether or not he’d be able to make it?”

“He’s still overseeing that…” Erin glanced at Emily and Natashya, and then back at me. “That thing you had him do.”

“Ah.”

“Want me to pull him off that?” she asked.

“No. That’s important. I’ll just fill him in later. We’ll probably need his help—him or one of his people.”

I pointed at the rest of my food. “Could you have Jess prep another bowl of that and take it to my room in a warmer or something? I want more of that later.”

“Yes, sir!” Erin said, grinning up at me. “Will you need me for anything else this evening?”

“You know I will,” I said, giving her a look that suggested it wouldn’t be anything work-related.

“That’s what I like to hear!” Natashya said, chuckling as she took another bite.

I smiled wistfully as I left.

It was good to be home.

As I made my way into the living room and headed toward the elevator, I heard a familiar voice say, “In a hurry?”

I hesitated and turned to see Chloe sitting on the couch, dressed in shorts and a sweatshirt. Her hair was up in a sloppy bun, and she was peering at me over a book she had propped on her knees. Chloe had relieved herself of duty shortly after I disappeared into my study with Emiko, and it looked like she was taking advantage of the time off.

“I’m… just going to…” I hiked my thumb over my shoulder.

“Someone going with you?”

“I’m just going two floors down.”

Chloe dropped the book on her lap and called out, “John?”

A few heartbeats later, one of the original men I had interviewed for the bodyguard position appeared in the opening of one of the first-floor corridors. He was a massive slab of a man wearing a suit and tie… the one on duty while Chloe was off the clock.

“Ma’am?” he asked.

“Is it completely secure two floors down?”

“Yes, ma’am,” John said. “It’s on the Green List.”

The green list was a set of pre-cleared floors and rooms deemed completely secure for me to visit without a bodyguard glued to my side. Except for the roof, my entire apartment was on it. The next five floors had been quarantined for my personal use and were fitted with Hannon-approved security measures. Every door on every floor cost thousands of dollars and was everything-proof. All the glass could withstand gunfire. Security cameras were in all the corridors, and alarms were monitored by a dedicated monitoring station manned day and night.

“Thanks, John,” Chloe said, still staring at me.

“Yes, ma’am,” John said. Then he looked at me. “Let me know if you need anything, sir.”

“Thanks, John,” I said, keeping my gaze on Chloe.

He retreated to wherever he came from.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Just doing my job, sir.”

Sir.

That fucking word.

Like nothing had happened—just the way she wanted it.

“If I were going anywhere, I would have taken John with me. I told you, I’m not fighting you anymore on keeping a bodyguard.”

“You were leaving without letting John know where you were going.”

“Emiko left the Green List on my desk in my study. I know what it is, and I know Phoebe’s apartment is on it.”

My bodyguard gave me her silent, Chloe-specific stare (patent pending), and I got the feeling she was peeling back layers of my psyche to determine whether I was telling the truth.

We’d barely spoken a word to each other since we came to our agreement, and now she was giving me shit. I was starting to wonder if things would ever return to even a sliver of normalcy.

“I don’t need this, Chloe. See for yourself. The list is on my desk. If you still need proof, go ask Erin or Helen where I’m headed.”

“Like I said, I’m just doing my job,” Chloe said, coolly.

I turned around and pressed my hand into the scanner next to the elevator. “No. You’re punishing me, and I don’t know why.” Waiting for the doors to open, I turned back around to face her. “If this is the way it’s going to be, then maybe you should rethink whether this is the right place for you.”

“Marcus…”

The doors opened behind me, and I backed into the lift, pressing the button to make the doors close as fast as I could. I didn’t want to talk to her right now. Whatever catharsis I’d had with Helen had been devoured by Captain Killjoy.

Yet, part of me feared I’d come back and find she’d taken me at my word.

I hated that I cared enough to let it get to me like that.

***

The door opened before I finished knocking, and a light brown eye peered out of the inch of visible space. Even though all I could see was a single eye, I saw the recognition in it.

The door shut, and I heard the rattle of a chain. Then it flew open, and there stood my old neighbor—Phoebe Lucas.

I hadn’t seen her since the day I gathered the last of my things and left the house with my sister. Right before I left, there had been an emotionally charged moment between us as she broke down at learning about my move out of the apartment. I’d been a staple in that complex for years, and one of the few she’d been able to rely on.

She watched my cat. I watered her ficus. She’d occasionally checked in on my sister after her return from LA, making sure she was okay while I was at work. We took care of each other in small ways.

Those years of closeness, followed by the realization that she was going to lose one of the closest people in her life outside of her family, had culminated in a kiss. I hadn’t seen it coming until her lips were on mine.

Then, I returned it. Not for long, but long enough.

Now that I stood there staring into her red-rimmed eyes, I felt a great swell of guilt.

I hadn’t checked on her once since that night.

I hadn’t followed up to let her know that the kiss didn’t weird me out.

I hadn’t reached out to see how she was doing after she cried in my arms.

I hadn’t inquired to see how she and Jim were doing, or if Nate—her son—was starting to speak in complete sentences.

I hadn’t thanked her for being there every time I needed her.

“Hey, Phoebe,” I said, almost calling her Mrs. Lucas the way I used to. She’d never been that much older than me. Now, after everything that happened to me, calling her that felt ridiculous.

She threw herself at me. Her arms were around my neck, and her body vibrated as she began crying silently into my shoulder.

Feeling awkward, I glanced both ways down the hall to make sure no one was witnessing the display, and then walked both of us into the apartment and kicked the door shut.

I tightened my arms around her and hugged her close.

And then loud, muffled sobs erupted from where her face was buried in my shirt.

“Shhh,” I said, stroking her back with one hand while holding her close. “It’s okay.”

I didn’t say anything else… just held her. It was the least I could do, and for the moment, maybe that’s all she needed.

And for the next few minutes, all she did was let it out. I stood in the foyer of the little apartment and just held her as she unleashed a torrent of tears into my shirt. I could feel it spreading across the fabric as this strong woman released possibly years of pent-up emotion.

And I just held tight and let her cry as long as she needed.

It wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but notice that Phoebe felt good in my arms—warm and delicate. She had a build closer to Erin’s, with a slender frame that was more suited for a dancer or runner. She wasn’t as short as my assistant, though. Phoebe was five and a half feet tall, giving her build more of a lithe, coltish quality than Erin’s dainty one.

Phoebe’s father had been a full-blooded native american, so she had inherited a lot of those qualities. Fine-boned, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin… she had small, almond eyes that shone with an intense empathy. Her nose was bold without dominating her face, straight and elegant, and her skin glowed with a natural golden tan. Her dark hair was styled in soft, feathered waves and tickled my nose. It smelled vaguely flowery, mingling with the faintly salty scent of her tears. Her lips had a natural, dark tint to them, and she often wore a dazzling smile that betrayed her kind heart, even if it was frequently marred by sadness. She was a beautiful woman with a nurturing soul.

It amazed me that Jim Lucas had landed someone like her.

Holding this beautiful woman made the primitive part of my brain associate her with the height of feminine vulnerability. It made me want her… to give her the things she wanted… needed. The things Jim never could.

However, that darker part of me wrestled with the more civilized, empathetic half of my brain that was concerned with the level of distress my former neighbor was in. Her husband had left her and had taken her son.

It was criminal. Phoebe didn’t deserve any of this. She should have had a partner who cherished the sweet, kind, beautiful person she was. She should have been surrounded by more friends than she had time for.

And she should have her son.

“Hey,” I finally said.

She didn’t respond.

“Phoebe?”

I felt her face shift on my shoulder, and then she slowly lifted it until too-bright pools of brown peered up at me through a mess of brown hair. Even at this angle, I could see how red her eyes were.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She sniffled, her eyes squeezed shut, and she pressed her mouth into my shoulder as she let out another few sobs. Fresh tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

Eventually, I got her to calm down enough to tell me what happened.

According to Phoebe, Jim came home from work, got drunk, and watched television while ignoring his wife and two-year-old son—same old story.

Phoebe tried to confront him about it, and it quickly escalated into a fight. She tried to stand up to her bully of a husband, which I was happy to hear, but it ended with her getting knocked out. By the time she awoke, her husband and her child were gone.

No note. No explanation.

I managed to move us to the couch while she recounted the story, and by the time she got to the end, she was lying on it with her head in my lap, sobbing once more. I spent the next ten minutes letting her cry, letting her ask questions like ‘why would he do this’ without being able to provide answers. I simply stroked her hair and waited for her to settle down.

Eventually, she did, removing her head from my lap and drawing her knees to her chest as she sat beside me.

I should’ve left him a long—lo-long time ago,” she said, gasping between the words.

“You were trying to make it work,” I offered, trying to give her an out from self-doubt. Even I didn’t believe my words, though. I had thought the same thing countless times.

Phoebe shook her head. “I was just too afraid. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and now he has Nate. I’m a bad m-mom…”

“Hey!” I said. I mirrored her by hugging my knees and resting my feet on the couch. I leaned in a little closer to her so that our shoulders brushed. “I can’t think of any moms better than you. You did everything for Nate. It’s not your fault that Jim is a monster.”

“You’re too kind,” she said, shaking her head. “But no… I’ve been lying to myself… thinking he could change… that there was s-still hope. He hasn’t been himself in years.”

“Where did you two meet?” I asked, realizing that I didn’t know much about her past.

“High school,” she said. “He saved me from my parents.”

“They abused you?”

“My step-dad did,” she said. “My dad died when I was young. My mom remarried. He was good to her. Not so much to me, and she turned a blind eye to all of it.”

“Jesus,” I breathed.

“Jim and I met when I was a Sophomore and he was a Senior. He was on the football team. Everyone loved him. All the girls wanted to date him, but he chose me, and he was my world. He knew what my home was like, and the moment he graduated, we left South Dakota. I haven’t seen my mom or step-dad since.”

“And you came to New York?”

“Eventually,” she said. “We were in Philly for a while, but jobs were hard to get. He got fired twice because of his temper, and then heard about some openings in New York.”

“Were you always a stay-at-home wife?” I asked.

Phoebe nodded. “Jim insisted. He always believed the wife should take care of the home and that the man should take care of her.” Her face twisted a little in disgust. “Besides… there’s not a whole lot of jobs out there for a high-school dropout anyway.”

“You never finished?”

“No,” she said. “Jim always discouraged finishing my education, and he always put food on the table, so I could never see the justification.”

“Fuck, Phoebe,” I whispered.

She looked up at me, her eyes bright with tears yet to be shed, and smiled wryly. “One heck of a stupid life, huh?”

“No,” I was quick to say.

“It’s okay,” she said, looking back down at the floor. “I’ve had a lot of time to regret my decisions.”

Then her gaze shot back up at me, a look of horror on her face. “Oh my word! I didn’t mean that! Nate… I don’t know what I’d do without him!”

“I know,” I quickly said. “Like I said, you’re one of the best moms I’ve ever known.”

Her face screwed up and it looked like she was about to cry again.

“You notified the police?”

She nodded and took a couple of breaths to get herself under control. “They said they’re doing everything they can, but they aren’t sure where he went. They called Jim’s parents, but they don’t know anything.”

“I called you as soon as the police left,” Phoebe said, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry… I just didn’t know who else to reach out to, and I thought…”

She trailed off, looking a little guilty. Fortunately, I’d already guessed at her primary motivation for reaching out to me.

“You thought I could help… because of the money.”

“Oh god, Marcus… that sounds so—”

“No!” I quickly cut her off. “I’m not offended! I’m glad you called, Phoebe.”

She looked like she was on the verge of another bout of crying, so I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug, giving her a few minutes.

“Phoebe,” I said once she settled down, “would you be willing to do whatever it takes to get Nate back?”

Her head came up so fast that she almost clipped my chin, and the look in her eyes suggested that I’d just told her that I’d already located Nate and had him here in the building.

“Yes! Anything!”

The way she looked at me with desperate hope… so close to me that she was all I could smell…

The way she’d said the word anything…

My mind raced with wild, dark thoughts of what a mother might do to get her son back. Even now, as she clutched my knee with those pleading eyes, an image flashed—too vivid, too real—of her sliding off the couch…

I squelched that thought. I’d done some questionable things in the past, but this was Phoebe—sweet, kind, lovely Phoebe Lucas, who was desperate to see her son again. She had been nothing but a saint to me, and even entertaining those kinds of thoughts made me feel a little sick.

Something in my face must have clued Phoebe in that the wheels in my head were turning. She stared up at me expectantly, and as I pushed down my dark thoughts, some of her microexpressions suggested that her mind was drawing its own conclusions. The flicker of her honey-brown eyes to my lips… a slight tightening of her grip on my knee. Was she considering providing me with an incentive?

Was she afraid that I was about to make an offer that she literally couldn’t refuse—even if she wanted to?

“I have resources that can probably track Jim down quickly. Only… I don’t know if they’re all legal and—”

“Yes!” she said before I could continue. “Please!”

“I mean, if the police are already looking for him, it might cause problems.”

“I don’t care,” she said, her grip tightening on my knee. Her voice cracked. “I just want my baby back.”

“And Jim?” I asked.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He could make trouble if we don’t do this by the book.”

She looked away from me in thought as she chewed on her lip, then back at me. “Marcus, Jim isn’t a good father. Nate’s a really sweet boy, and I can’t stand the thought of Jim being the only one in his life! I… Marcus, if I had to shoot him to get my boy back, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’ll do anything.”

Again with the anything.

We stared at each other in silence for a long moment, and then I nodded. “Alright.”

I extracted my arm from around her shoulders.

Phoebe sat up straight, looking a little confused. “Alright?”

“Alright,” I said, standing up.

“You’ll help me?” She asked, slowly standing up as she stared at me. I felt like she was measuring me up… trying to figure me out.

I felt my brow furrow, a little confused by her bewilderment. “Of course I will! I just wasn’t sure what kind of help you wanted.”

I had a hard time looking her in the eyes, afraid she might see some of those dark thoughts lurking inside.

“Oh,” Phoebe said. Her eyes darted around the room as if she were looking for something. Her confusion was palpable. “Oh… okay. I just…”

Or, maybe she’d picked up on some of that primitive desire and was surprised that I hadn’t… asked for anything.

Then she looked back up at me with those warm brown eyes full of trust, and it was like that moment of doubt never even happened. “What are you going to do?”

“I have a guy who can probably track Jim. He’s good at retrieving things. Don’t worry. He’ll make sure Nate’s returned safely to you as soon as possible.”

She looked like she was about to cry again, but this time, I could see signs of relief mingled with the grief. It was a beautiful addition that softened the faint lines of care on her lovely face.

“And Jim?”

“Let me worry about Jim,” I said. I placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Phoebe. We’re going to get Nate back as soon as possible, and the only thing you need to worry about is making sure he has all his stuff here for when we get him back to you.”

“His stuff?” Phoebe looked confused again.

“This place is yours, if you want it,” I said.

“Marcus? I… can’t afford a place like this.”

“It won’t cost you a thing,” I said. “Phoebe, you were always good to me and Emily.”

She blinked several times.

“And stop looking for a job,” I said. “Just focus on getting this place together for your kid. I’ll have Jessica bring you some meals until Emiko can get your kitchen stocked.”

“Marcus,” Phoebe said, her voice tight with emotion. “I can’t accept this.”

“Yes, you can,” I said. “You can because it’ll be good for Nate.”

“I—”

“Look,” I said, already sure I knew what she was about to say, “I know you’re uncomfortable accepting this much charity. I would be, but I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. At least until we get your kid back. After that, we can sit down and discuss getting you a job or something, but Phoebe, let me do this for you. Please?”

Honestly, as strong as my libido was, the bright, teary smile she gave me was worth more than some of the most powerful climaxes I’d ever experienced. It warmed my freaking heart.

“Oh, Marcus!” she said as she fell into me, her arms flinging around my neck as she buried her face in my chest. She looked up at me, tears streaming, but a smile on her face. “Thank you so much!”

I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her tight. It had the added effect of drawing her face infinitesimally closer to mine. Once more, I was reminded of the soft kiss she laid on me the last time we saw her. It was all too tempting to lean in and press my lips to hers, and I was almost positive that she wouldn’t turn me down if I did.

But I didn’t want to take advantage of a grieving mother who was missing her child— especially when that grieving mother was Phoebe.

“My pleasure, Phoebe. I’ll get started right away.”

She lifted herself on her toes and pressed her cheek on mine, and I felt the corner of her lips brush near my ear as she gave me a phantom kiss.

And then she stepped out of my arms, her hands sliding down my shoulders, down my chest, and then retreating slowly, her fingers lingering a touch longer before falling away. Then she scrubbed at one of her cheeks with the corner of her sleeve and gave me a weak but genuine smile.

I spent the next ten minutes arranging for movers to pick her up tomorrow, take her back to her apartment, and start the process of moving her things in here. When I left, I promised to get started on getting Nate back immediately. She shut the door, giving me one last look before she did so—one that I’d never seen from her before… full of warmth, gratitude, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on… something that was gone almost before I noticed it.

I breathed deep and walked down the hall, feeling weightless. For the first time in days, I wasn’t fighting for my life. I wasn’t playing mind games with a spoiled brat. I wasn’t dominating anyone or jockeying for control. What I was doing for Phoebe felt good—viscerally human.

***

Thursday, September 12th, 7:51 pm

Putting the finishing touches on my message to Henry, I kicked the door behind me to the master bedroom shut. With that done, I dropped my phone to the chair, reached for the hem of my shirt, and pulled it over my head in one fluid motion. I dropped it on the floor as I moved to the bed.

That sweet, blessed California king that looked so lovely and inviting. I was going to sleep so well tonight.

Honestly, I was a little surprised to see that no one else was here. Part of me suspected that I might find Helen and Bobbi on my bed, but neither my submissive nor her mistress was kneeling in position, waiting for me. It felt empty… and for the first time since the forest, I found myself without any kind of companionship.

It was quiet. Peaceful.

It also felt lonely.

The solitude was probably good for me, allowing me to get uninterrupted sleep, but I felt a little uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night alone.

I was having a hard time remembering the last time I’d spent the night alone.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention

“Holy shi—”

A body crashed into me, sending me stumbling toward the bed and toppling onto the mattress on my back.

“Wha—”

My words were cut off as Erin, straddling my waist, leaned down and smothered the rest of my words with her lips. Just as I started to recover and assumed we were about to start a make-out session, however, Erin broke the kiss and stared down at me. Her eyes were wide, and she was sporting her patented Cheshire grin.

“You fucked her, didn’t you!?”

I blinked up at her. “Phoebe?”

“No!” Erin said, then her brow furrowed. “Wait. Did you?”

“No!” I said indignantly.

“Well,” Erin said, grinning again. “I meant Chloe!”

“Oh,” I said, my heart skipping a beat. “No I didn’t!” I insisted a little too quickly. Chloe had told me not to tell anyone, and I hadn’t. If she found out that Erin knew as early as tonight, she would be out the door, and I would be dead.

Erin’s spine went rigid. “Oh my god, you did!”

Fuck. There was no lying to Erin.

“Jesus! Yeah! Fine! I did!”

“Oh my god!” she squealed.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Are you fucking kidding? I saw the two of you going at it like an old married couple in the living room!”

“You saw that?” I asked, the blood draining from my face.

“Yes! Then I went to your study to drop off some things, and I saw a note there. It just said ‘I’m sorry’, but it was Chloe’s handwriting.”

“She left a note?” I asked, unable to mask the hopeful tone.

Erin grinned and nodded.

My fear that I’d chased her off faded, only to be replaced a beat later by a new one.

“Erin, you can’t tell anyone. You can’t let anyone you know. Especially Chloe.”

“Yeah, I know,” Erin sighed, some of her enthusiasm fading. “It’s Chloe, so I assumed she’d want to keep it private. It’s the only reason I’m not beating you up for not telling me.”

Her brows dropped, and she leaned forward to give me a faux glare. “If you guys want to keep this a secret, though, you gotta learn to be more discreet. You may have gotten away with that shit in front of John, but do that around someone like Helen and they’ll know.”

“Noted,” I said. I cupped her face in one of my hands and took a moment to finally notice her appearance. She was wearing a lacy, one-piece teddy that looked like a cross between a swimsuit and lingerie. It was stark white and complemented her light bronze skin tone beautifully. She’d applied fresh makeup—her dark purple lipstick, a hint of blush, and dark eyeliner to make her already large eyes really stand out.

She’d been preparing for my return.

I placed my other hand on her leg and ran it up her thigh. The bottom of the lingerie ran so high up her hip that it left most of it bare, and I took advantage of it.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed. “You’re stunning.”

Her smile grew appreciative as she rolled her hips, grinding her crotch against my already-hard cock.

“I can tell,” she said, her tone dropping into a low purr. “Thank you.”

She leaned forward, rubbing her hands along my chest as she stretched across my body. Her eyes slid shut as she nuzzled her face against the hand caressing her cheek.

“When are you going to fuck her next?” Erin asked, her face inches from mine. “Are you going to let me get a peek?”

I ran my other hand to the back of her small, firm ass and palmed it. “That’s not going to happen,” I said. “We put a stop to it on the plane.”

Erin’s face fell into a look of genuine surprise, reminding me that she wasn’t some omniscient demigoddess. “Why?”

I sighed. “She doesn’t want to mix business and pleasure. She thinks it’ll be too distracting.”

“Fuck,” Erin spat under her breath. “You didn’t fight her?”

“You know Chloe,” I said.

“Dammit!” Erin pouted, looking genuinely disappointed.

She was a strange girl. I’d never known a girl to work so hard to get a guy laid, but Erin saw it as some kind of personal mission. I had to hand it to her, she’d been up-front with me from the beginning—she’d been the best wing-woman a man could ask for.

And if I ever struck out, well… she was one hell of a consolation.

Except she wasn’t a consolation. Erin was the prize.

As I watched her facial expressions work through the tragedy that was mine and Chloe’s relationship, I wondered again why I hadn’t made a move to seriously date Erin.

Because she already told you she wasn’t interested in an actual relationship, and if you push that, you could wreck one of the best things in your life. You’ve already fucked up several relationships… don’t you dare lose Erin.

“You almost seem more disappointed than I was,” I said, pushing those thoughts aside.

“Well, at least you got to experience her,” she retorted. “Those arms… just once, I wanted to feel what it was like to be tossed around like a rag doll between the two of you.”

I kicked a leg into the air and launched Erin to my left. She squealed and clung to me as I rolled both of us over so that I lay on top of her. Then, I grabbed both of her arms and pinned them onto the mattress over her head.

She stared up at me, her breath suddenly much more rapid and shallow, and I saw a shadow of something pass over her face. For the briefest of moments, as I peered down at her, she looked less like sex incarnate and more like a small, vulnerable woman. Her big, dark eyes stared up at me, and there was something… unreadable in them.

And then it melted away into a flirtatious smile as I felt her legs slip around my waist, dragging my crotch into hers.

“Smooth move,” she said with a grin that made my member throb. The slow, agonizing insistence built as she pressed her groin harder into my length. “Is this how you took her?”

I met pressure with pressure and ground myself against her. “Really? I’ve got you pinned to the bed ready to fuck your brains out, and you want to talk about Chloe?”

“Fuck, Sir,” she breathed as she raised her head so her lips brushed mine. “Railing me while describing our girl in intimate detail? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

I pulled my hips away from hers and reached down to work my sweatpants over my hips, exposing my hard-on. Then I ran my fingers over her lingerie-covered pussy. There was a thin film of gauze and lace protecting it from my touch, but it felt especially flimsy thanks to being soaked all the way through.

Erin arched a single eyebrow at me and gave my bottom lip the softest whisper of a kiss, waiting for me to do something.

“I didn’t take her,” I said as I slid my fingers under the flimsy material. I felt her moist nether lips as my fingertips brushed past them. Their juices coated them, and the heat from her was so intense…

“She took me.” I hooked the material in two of my fingers.

“Yes,” Erin breathed, the hot hair rolling into my mouth. Her eyes slid shut, and I knew she was viewing the image my words painted.

“I woke up, and she was on top of me.” I pressed my lips to hers and kissed her, keeping it soft and teasing.

And tore at the fabric.

It came apart with very little effort, leaving Erin’s sex bare and exposed.

She grunted into my mouth.

She chased my lips on instinct, eyes slowly fluttering open—dark, molten, and asking for more.

“What does she look like?” she breathed. “Do the freckles just keep going?”

I brought my fingers to Erin’s lips and she sucked them into her mouth. Her tongue lapped at them, gathering her juices as she hummed in pleasure, enjoying her own taste.

“Yeah,” I said as I pressed the tip of my cock to the opening of her moist cunt. Her pussy lips parted easily as the mushroom head slid into her warm depths. “Her back is covered in them. Her chest, her breasts…”

I slowly extracted my fingers from her mouth, my fingertips catching on her bottom lip, pulling it low as we locked gazes. Her eyes threatened to burn me alive.

My lips found her neck, just under her as I slid my cock deep into her. “She has scars,” I whispered between kisses along the graceful curve of Erin’s neck. “They’re beautiful on her pale skin. There’s less freckles on the underside of her tits and along her stomach.”

I kissed up her jaw to her chin. “Her ass is covered in them.”

She whimpered.

My lips trailed up her chin, nearing her lips. “But her pussy… Erin… her creamy thighs… it’s all pale and flawless.”

“Oh god,” she whispered and pressed her hips forward, burying more of myself inside her. Her lips found mine, and we shared a searing kiss. My fingers curled around her lace-covered breast, feeling the rock-hard nipple through the fabric. She still had the firmest tits I’d ever felt in my life.

I felt her juices leaking down the sides of my shaft, gently tickling my balls as they coated them. There was only one woman who had been wetter than my Erin.

Breaking the kiss as I slid out of her, and then slowly back in, I said, “She was soaking wet every time.”

Another whimper against my lips. Her breath rolled over me as we continued to fuck, our tempo getting faster.

“What does she taste like?” Erin whispered.

“Like a woman in heat,” I said. “Fuck, I wish you could taste her with me.”

“Oh fuck… yes!”

“I’d drink her up and feed her to you,” I whispered, biting on her lower lip.

In and out… faster.

Erin groaned, frustrated, horny…

“Faster,” she breathed.

I complied, and we spent the next few moments simply staring at each other is I fucked her… seeking fulfillment in each other. Sating each other’s desires.

And yet, I could feel her sharing my frustration over the loss of Chloe’s intimacy. In a way, I felt even closer to Erin than ever before as we bonded over the craving for her.

“Harder,” she groaned through gritted teeth.

Without warning, I pulled out of her, backed up a foot, and unceremoniously flipped the small young woman on her stomach. I hooked my arm under her waist and pulled her back toward me, positioning her ass in the air.

Leaning over her, I shoved my full length back in her weeping pussy and began fucking her again in earnest. Her dark-painted nails clawed into the bed sheets as she let out a loud groan, thrusting back against me. Her dark eyes looked back over her shoulder, peering at me through silver gossamer.

“Fuck!” she shouted, throwing her full bodyweight back into me. “That’s it… fuck me, baby!”

My hips thrust forward as I fucked my little assistant with as much power as I could muster. She was so fucking wet, but at the same time, she was so small that the walls of her pussy gripped my member like a vice, driving me wild with each thrust.

“How fucking frustrated are you!?” she huffed, fucking back into me just as much as I was plowing her. “God, I would be so fucking furious if I lost that…”

“So frustrating,” I panted.

“Take it out on me, baby,” she said. “Use me.”

“Fuck!”

I hooked the strap of her lingerie on one shoulder and yanked it down to hard that it ripped free, exposing one of her tits to the elements. Once again, I grasped it in my hand and marveled at how smooth, firm, and perfect it was in my hand. I twisted a pink-brown nipple between my fingers, eliciting a long groan from her.

All while slamming my thick cock in and out of her tight hole.

“That’s it, baby!” she panted. “I’m all yours. Ruin… ruin me… use me… I’m yours.”

“Mine,” I growled.

I grabbed a fistful of her silver hair and used it as purchase as I continued to pound away at her.

“Fuck!” Erin squeaked. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She began bucking, and I could feel her already tight cunt clamp down on my cock, threatening to force it out from sheer lack of room to accommodate it as the tiny woman under me came like a volcano.

She wasn’t quiet. She wasn’t demure. She swore like a sailor as she pounded the mattress underneath us.

I yanked back on her hair, pulling her fists off the mattress until her back slammed into my chest. Wrapping an arm around her chest to keep her pinned against me, I fucked her for all I was worth as she still rode out her climax.

And then I sank my teeth into her shoulder until I tasted iron. Both of us seized up as I came deep inside her. Wave after wave of my seed pumped deep into Erin.

My thrusts slowed as I loosened my teeth from her skin. My lips found that sensitive spot just below her ear and I nuzzled against it and groaned as my cock continued to unload into her.

“Does she suck your dick like I do?” she asked, and even without looking, I could hear her grin.

I shuddered at the thought of both of them going down on me, and my cock, which was just starting to deflate as I expelled the last of my cum, began to grow hard again.

I growled into her ear and picked up my speed again.

Her giggle turned into a moan, and I felt her turn until the corner of her lips found mine.

And I knew that tonight wouldn’t be a night for recovery.

***

Friday, September 13th, 12:11 am

My eyes burned as I blinked them open.

Consciousness invaded what had been a dreamless sleep.

Something woke me up.

It should have been dark. I knew it was the middle of the night, but there was a small light…

The light blinked out.

My phone.

I suddenly registered a small weight lying half on top of me and turned my head to look. In the darkness, I could make out just enough of her features to see Erin curled up against my side, her head lying on my shoulder, half obscured by a wild mass of hair. She was naked, and as I flexed my fingers, I could feel them brush against the smooth expanse of her back—softer and smoother than anything had a right to be.

She nuzzled into my shoulder and made a little noise that cut through the mind fog and melted my heart.

I reached for my phone on the end table, just close enough to snag it with my fingertips. I made the mistake of touching the phone screen and it lit up like the noonday sun, blinding me until I could turn down the brightness enough to see without wanting to kill myself.

I had several messages, but only one could cut through my settings and disturb me in the middle of the night. It was from Psalter.

And it was only two words:

He’s ready

The desire for more sleep suddenly evaporated as I stared at the screen.

That was sooner than expected.

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—MindSketch