Chapter Twenty-Six
Sadie
I kiss him. Long and slow, and he’s completely and utterly delicious. Yeah, I’m buzzing a little from tonight, from keeping everything in check, from finding out some things, some real leads.
But I’m more than turned on by Kingston and the combination of the thrill of the chase of stolen goods, of beating systems and low-lifes at their own game, and it is too much. And I don’t want to hold back anymore. At least I don’t in this moment.
I come up, and swing my leg over him and sit in his lap. Kingston pushes one hand in my hair and grips lightly against my scalp, pulling me away.
The hand that comes down on my thigh is hot and large and he says, “Are you using me to get off or is this a way to stop me asking you questions?”
“Maybe both.”
His eyes glint as he pushes his hand up my thigh, curling it in beneath my dress to brush at the line of my underwear’s lace edge. I suck in a gasp as sparks shoot through me, laced with hot need. I roll into him lightly.
Kingston grins. “Just checking.”
And he pulls me down for a hot, opened mouth kiss.
It’s wild, carnal. He drops his hand from my hair, skimming my flesh as our mouths and tongues come together, a dark and wild torrent of desire that spurs us on, spurs me, and it’s like I can’t get enough. He grips my hip, holding me as he kisses a trail from my mouth to my throat, and bites down on a tender spot from the last time we fucked.
Licking my throat, he moves his fingers beneath the edge of my panties and along my slick, wet folds, and pushes two into me. He lifts his head.
“Ride me slowly, Sadie. I want to see you come.”
I do, gripping his hair, his shoulder, moving my hips as he slides his thumb against my clit, curling his fingers inside me to him, hitting my G-spot and I gasp.
He smiles and it’s the most gloriously wicked thing I’ve seen.
“Ms. Hess’s place,” he says loudly. Then he lowers his voice. “Keep going, Sadie.”
I’m too far gone to stop, inside the sweet pressure is building, pushing at me and I’m teetering on the edge of release, of orgasmic bliss.
“Asshole,” I manage to gasp as he moves my hips, moves me on him, with his other hand.
“Kiss me when you come.”
I’m starting to shake and I take his mouth in a shattering kiss as I come. And he holds me as I do so, only pulling his hand free when I start to slump and the car pulls to a stop.
I scramble off him, but he takes my hand and opens his door, getting out with me.
“You’re not coming in.”
“I am.”
He is. We both know it. He steps into me, so we’re brushed up against each other right at the side of the road in the rain that started again and he kisses me so softly I want to cry.
“Sadie, he didn’t see a thing. I hit the talk button.”
“I don’t care.”
“You do.”
“Only because if we’re going to ever have an audience, I want to know ahead.”
He laughs against my mouth and curls his arm around me, and kisses me again. Then he steps back and releases me, only to throw my coat over my shoulders. His is still on his arm as he takes hold of my lapels, smoothing the wet cashmere. “Good to know you think there’ll be that time.”
“You really are an ass,” I say, pulling free.
He takes my hand and leads me to my building as his car pulls away. The streets are empty and magical with the rivulets of glittering silver and gold from the reflected city lights. It’s late and I should tell him I need to sleep and that was enough, but he feels good, smells good and I want more.
We don’t talk as I unlock the door to the building. We don’t speak as we climb the stairs and open my door.
The moment we step in… We don’t talk either. His mouth is hot and hungry on mine. It’s full of dark promises and filthy demands. I want to demand back, to promise in the moment of more and more and more. I want it all.
He strips me from my coat and dress and I look at him, fully dressed in his suit.
He takes me in. The bra and wet panties. The heels.
Kingston’s gaze is more intimate than most lover’s touches I’ve felt. And I deliberately unhook my bra and let it fall to the ground. Then I slide my panties off.
“Beautiful,” he says, “you’re a work of art, Sadie.”
“So are you. One with too many clothes.”
“Are you going to fix that?”
I smile and kiss him and he takes me in his arms and lifts me. I wrap about him as he turns and walks me through my apartment. I direct him to my room and he throws me on the bed.
Kingston reaches for his tie.
“No.”
“It works better when I can get inside you.”
I lift one leg and place my heel on his chest. “I’m taking them off you. But first come here.” I drop my leg and I part my thighs and Kingston doesn’t need asking twice. He’s there, between them.
We kiss like we’re at war. We kiss like drowning creatures. And I’m lost in a sea of need for him. I like the feel of him clothed against my naked skin and I undo his trousers and free him.
He groans as I wrap my hand around his erection and I guide him to me. I need it now.
And so does he because he wraps my thighs about him and thrusts into me. It’s not sweet. It’s a move laced with savage desire and I bite his chin, his throat, his lips. I want everything as he starts to pound into me, and that’s all I can think. I want everything.
We fuck hard and fast. We don’t play anymore. We just need to reach that pinnacle. His need is palpable and it tastes so fucking good in my mouth as we kiss.
He comes hard, shuddering, groaning my name and it sets me off. And the release for the second time that evening floods me.
It’s like I’m alight with power and he controls the switch.
After minutes pass, Kingston sits up and slowly, slowly pulls out of me. Even in the darkness, the light from the living room and from the street outside my window, I can see he’s still thick and hard. Glistening with our mingled juices. And I want him in my mouth.
I want him everywhere.
I want him.
Again and again and again.
Kingston strips the rest of his clothes off. “We’re not done, Sadie.”
“Good.”
He’s fucking me slow and it’s a revelation. I kiss him, undulating my hips to take him deeper into me and it’s like we’ve got all the time in the world.
“Fuck, Sadie, how does this keep getting better with you?”
I push him so we roll and I’m on top now, and I move in that slow, sweet, deep way we’ve been doing, but now I’m fucking him and it’s just as good and he’s so right. “I don’t know.”
My palms are flat on his hot chest. Everything about him is perfect. From his cock to his chest to his face. That doesn’t take into account the way he can kiss, or the way he thinks.
“You drive me crazy,” I say.
“That’s my line.” He flips us again so we’re on our sides and he has one of my legs pinned, giving him the control as he slides his hand along my other thigh, then lifting it and he looks down at where we’re joined, at my pussy clinging to his cock with each long, slow thrust.
I know he’s looking. I am, too.
And it’s fucking erotic.
It’s hot.
“I could fuck you forever,” he says, and kisses me.
I’m lost in him again and he keeps that slow drive into me until he’s got me teetering again and then he reaches between us, fingers on my clit and I jump and moan.
“Come, Sadie. Come for me.”
I can’t help it. I do. The pressure builds, and it’s too much and I start to shatter, but he keeps going, right through it. He keeps those long, slow thrusts as I dip back down and he keeps playing my clit. I try to stop him as I’m so sensitive, but he doesn’t.
“Kingston—”
“I’m not done. You’re not done. I want you to lose control of everything but me. I want you to forget everything but me and you and this.”
And he keeps going. He’s sweating, his muscles like iron. He’s keeping himself under control and I grind down on him as he moves again, so I’m riding him, and he whispers words at me. Taunts, demands, pleas.
And that thing inside that still breathes starts to unfurl and I push harder and harder and I come again. And again, but it’s still unfurling and I dig into him, my control nothing as all that exists is this feeling of pleasure that lurks at the edges, something so huge, something that’s mine, something new, and I start to come in deep, compelling waves and my entire body is one contraction of blinding pleasure so much I’m shouting, I’m crying, I’m whispering and he’s losing it, too. And his voice joins mine and we’re both gone.
Completely.
Together.
And when it’s over all I can think, as he kisses me in slow, half desperate and bone drugging kisses, is that I want more.
More.
Always more.
With him.
It’s almost four in the morning when I dress silently and leave. We’re at my place, not his, and ordinarily I wouldn’t leave a man there. Especially not Kingston.
But I don’t have anything he wants. And I need to do this now.
I stop a few doors from my place and breathe in the biting cold air.
I’d love to say we only had sex once and it was quick and boring, but that’s not what happened. I did something weird. Unforgivable. I spent the day and next night with Kingston. Even thinking about it sends shudders of heat and awareness through me.
Kingston.
Something…something changed, like something cracked open inside. And I felt the same weird change in him. We laughed and fought and touched and talked. About everything and nothing and all in between.
Half that time was naked under covers, or fucking. Oh, God, having sex with him is a revelation that seems to have no end. It just gets better.
And we watched terrible TV and kissed and made love—no, not that, but it wasn’t straight up fucking. It was that slow lose yourself in the other thing that I haven’t done since…I don’t know. Maybe Damon. And still, this was different, another whole level I didn’t know existed.
If I wasn’t planted on the ground, tree-like, I’d almost think it could be love.
But it isn’t.
He doesn’t believe in love.
And me? I don’t either.
Love is for suckers and we can’t do that again. I don’t have room for feelings, but I also can’t regret it.
Not at all.
But I have three places spread over Manhattan to break into tonight. I keep going down the street. I’m hoping I’m right. I know who bought it and she’ll have it by now.
If I’m lucky, it’ll be at the first place I hit.
I get to work.
It’s the third place in the heart of Chelsea, and I’m buzzing with the old thrill. No one is here, which makes getting in so much harder. But I’m there, in the tiny room that takes me almost an hour to get into. I can’t leave a trace of me being here, which means I have to take my time, and reconnect every alarm layer I disconnect.
Lucky for me, I know Damon’s work.
The fake is good. Great. And it might take them a while to know the difference. Hell, I could just keep the real one and Kingston would never know. The fake would be enough to get him what he wants.
But I’m not going to do that.
Not just because it would prolong us working together.
No, I’m not doing that because I can’t. Not to him. Jesus, I’m an idiot.
I don’t dally, I slide the real one away, and head out. It’s almost dawn when I reach my door.
It’s locked, but when I step in, I know instantly Kingston has gone. My phone sits on the table. I pick it up and unlock it. Kingston has sent exactly one message, telling me to call him. And there are a bunch from Yia-yia because I still haven’t called her back.
I’m about to hit replay on the messages when the skin of my nape prickles. I’m not alone.
Before I turn, I know why Athena’s been calling.
He’s there. The man I hate. The man I have the kind of complicated feelings for that a therapist would salivate.
“Hello, Sadie. No hug?”
“Hi, Dad. How was prison?”