Chapter 6
Six
Eric woke to a shaft of light penetrating the doorway and the sounds of movement in the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep sitting on a couch in the living room while reviewing emails on his phone. Laci was apparently up.
He glanced at the screen of his phone. It was just after midnight. He’d been out for about an hour.
He stood and slid his phone into his pocket, coming across lace panties. He smiled. A souvenir. He walked into the kitchen and found that she’d changed. She wore a white tank top and rose pink yoga pants. She looked sexy as hell, as usual.
He realized she was mixing herself a screwdriver with double the amount of vodka to orange juice.
“Don’t drink that,” he said.
She jumped, causing the cocktail to splash all over her. She sucked in a breath.
“Jesus Christ! What the hell?” she snapped, setting the mostly empty tumbler into the sink.
“Why are you standing at your sink drinking alone?”
“I couldn’t sleep. My ass hurts and I’m tired, but I can’t sleep.”
Her nipples were poking up and clearly visible through the wet tank. She had small, beautifully-shaped breasts that would fit perfectly in his mouth.
“Warm milk. A hot bath. An orgasm. A good book. All acceptable choices. A double shot of vodka, not an acceptable sleep aid. If soreness is keeping you awake, then take an over-the-counter pain killer.”
“You’re like—who are you, the sleep police? You’re like one of those robots from the Will Smith movie. ‘I’m here to assist you,’” she said in a sing song voice. “Jeeze. Could you be any stiffer?”
No, I’m pretty stiff, he thought, adjusting himself.
Her eyes dropped to his crotch. “You should probably go,” she said.
He watched her. She folded her arms across her chest, seemingly just realizing what had his attention.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t want you sneaking up on me and scaring the hell out of me. That’s the second time tonight. If you’re listing unacceptable sleep aids, add giant adrenaline rush to the list.”
He smiled. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Where?” she asked, hesitating.
“I’m putting you back to bed.”
“I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Clearly,” he said, glancing at the bottle of vodka, “you do.”
She sighed. “I’ll go back to bed, but I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“So you didn’t share that kink with him?”
“Why? Is that one of yours?”
“Not so far,” he said, though he’d have happily pealed off that sunflower nightgown and played any game she wanted earlier.
“Didn’t think so,” she said, bending down to wipe the drops of spilled cocktail with a wet paper towel. “I hate when the floor’s all sticky.” She tossed the towel in the trash.
He nodded and then followed her when she headed back to the stairs.
“It must have been pretty trying to go along with him for all the age play. It seemed to be a pretty pervasive part of his life.”
“What’s pervasive? Big?”
He liked that she was unselfconscious enough to ask. “Yes.”
“He was really into that. I didn’t mind—at least most of the time.
There were a few things I wouldn’t do or wouldn’t do often.
Mostly though, it was fun for me because it was so much fun for him.
And he was a really good lover, in every sense of the word.
He did a lot of things for me, treated me really well.
No one ever gave a damn whether I was happy, until Colin.
It was like it was on his to-do list every day.
Do something special for Laci. I know that people thought I was his trophy wife and his plaything.
I guess I was. But it was about way more than owning me or having an available little girl sex object.
It really was. I painted him this picture, and he loved it so much he hung it in place of a Chagall in his home office.
No flying animals or people in dreamlike compositions.
Just me dolled up on the swing. Good colors and textures.
I’m decently talented. But I’m no Chagall.
He could make me feel like I was though.
Like the whole world should thank God I’d been born.
That’s how he was with me. So no, I didn’t find it trying to play his favorite games.
I loved him down to the bone, and I made sure he knew it.
” Her voice was fierce, but there were tears spilling over her lashes.
“He was lucky.”
“He got cancer and died too young. I don’t call that lucky,” she said, pausing to wipe her eyes. “All this money, all this stuff, and we couldn’t buy him more time! What the hell good is it?” she demanded with a sob.
He pulled her into his arms. She tried to extract herself, but he didn’t let her. Finally she stopped fighting and just cried her heart out.
Laci rubbed the heel of her palm over her eyes. “I’m okay. Wow. I haven’t cried like that in a really long time.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. She probably had black raccoon’s eyes from leftover mascara, but she didn’t even care.
“Feel any better?”
She nodded because she honestly did. Most of the time she didn’t let herself break down, especially in front of people.
It seemed like it had been long enough for her to have gotten a grip.
Except she hadn’t. She still missed Colin constantly.
So keeping her sadness buried gnawed at her and made her restless.
One thing she had to give Eric credit for, he hadn’t rushed her to pull herself together when she’d been crying.
All that cool calculation and patience were an asset when she was coming unglued.
Most people had seemed uncomfortable when she broke down, even back in the beginning.
They’d hurried to get her tissues and to tell her it would get easier, kind of implying that they wanted it to get easier within the next five minutes.
“Sometimes it’s nice that you’re a robot,” she teased. “Watery humans are strange, but not really a cause for concern.”
He smiled, seeming un-offended. “It’s not that seeing a woman cry doesn’t affect me.
It’s more that I know that when a girl gets worked up into a frenzy and then has a good cry with its emotional release, it’s like going through a storm and coming out the other side.
Post-thunderstorm, the world is still and calm.
The rain has washed the streets clean and left a fresh scent in the air. ”
“That definitely sounds like the voice of experience. Have you made a lot of girls cry?” she asked.
He nodded. “And enjoyed it,” he said, leaning down. “Girls are especially beautiful when their faces are wet with tears, their low backs damp with sweat, their asses hot and uncomfortable. They cry, but they also cream their panties…when I let them keep their panties on.”
She stared up at him, trapped in his gaze. He did not seem like a robot now. There was so much heat in his eyes, he could’ve set the carpet on fire.
“That sounds good to you, doesn’t it?” he asked, his thumb brushing her tight nipple. “You know, your tank is still damp from the cocktail-splashing it took earlier. Vodka-soaked flesh shouldn’t go to waste.” He bent his head and sucked on her breast right through the fabric of her shirt.
A small gasp escaped her lips, and her body arched.
God, it felt amazing to have a hot mouth on her.
She wanted the tank out of the way so she could feel his lips and tongue against her skin.
Except no, because what was she doing? This was Eric who she didn’t get along with.
She didn’t want him to get even more of an upper hand.
He gripped her waist and lifted her off the ground. She clutched his shoulders as he walked the few feet to the bedroom and inside.
He dropped her on the bed and immediately lowered himself onto it and her.
“Hey,” she murmured.
He stretched her arms over her head and pinned them to the bed. “What?” he asked.
The feeling of having her arms trapped over her head made her pussy clench with need. She really liked his tight grip on her wrists and his dark gaze on her face. There was none of Colin’s stern amusement. Eric wanted to do things to her and if she stopped him, he would not be happy about it.
“I’m not sure—” she said in a voice that was breathier than it should have been.
He lowered his head, so his mouth was near her ear. “Your body is sure. Now keep that pretty mouth shut while I taste you.”
“If I use the safeword will you stop?” she asked.
“Of course, but if you say anything other than that word from now on, I’ll punish you.”
Her heart hammered, and she rubbed her thighs together. Why was she so turned on? He was such a jerk. This was not what she liked or wanted, except, oh God, his mouth again.
He had the tip of her breast in his very hot mouth, and his teeth bit into her.
She cried out and struggled to pull her hands free. He held them in place, taking his time, his breathing becoming ragged and harsh.
How far would she let things go? Maybe just a little farther.
Her thoughts were fragmented. This wasn’t about Eric Renard, she told herself. It was just that she hadn’t been touched in a very long time. She missed it.
He released her arms, but immediately dragged her thin pants down and off.
When she tried to roll away, he slapped her upper outer thigh, not gently.
She continued to move until the flurry of slaps to her outer thigh just below her hip started to sting.
She went still, and he gripped the warm spot that he’d created with those smacks.
“Ow,” she murmured, grabbing his forearm.
His grip didn’t loosen, which somehow turned her on even more. Eric might be young, but he wasn’t hesitant about taking what he wanted.
With his free hand, he pushed her other thigh outward and moved between her legs. Before she even had time to think, his mouth descended. His tongue licked between her pussy lips and landed on her clit.
She arched and groaned. If he would just suck on her there or…oh, God.
His thumbs opened her, so he could thrust his tongue into her.
She gripped his hair and spread her legs. She wanted, no needed, really needed a little more.
The mouth took her relentlessly into its possession, like it was starving and she was the only thing it craved. When a thumb landed on her clit and another pushed into her asshole, she came apart, screaming as she clutched the sheets.
The orgasm was so hard and so, so satisfying.
Afterward, she melted into the mattress. Amazing.
When Eric crawled up her body, she felt his cock against her thigh. Startled that he’d obviously taken it out without her realizing it, she was jarred back to reality.
She was in the bed she’d shared with Colin, letting another man go down on her and now…now, what?
“Red,” she said before she’d even given herself time to think.
Eric froze and she winced, expecting him to explode with fury. She remembered from when she was a teenager that that’s what guys did when they didn’t get to have sex when they wanted to.
But nothing violent happened. Instead he spoke.
“I’d call you selfish,” Eric said with a shake of his head and a small smile. “But I enjoyed every second of that.” He moved to the edge of the bed and stood.
She opened her mouth, ready to call him back. She could at least do something…with her mouth or her hand.
He walked out though, before she had a chance to say anything. Like “thank you for the awesome orgasm.” Or “I’m sorry for stopping you before you got to have one too.”
He’s a grown man. He knows how to make himself come. He doesn’t need help.
She took a deep breath in and blew it out.
She felt lonely in the bed after that, but loneliness was nothing new.
The bed was too big. She thought about Colin and the games they’d played, pretending dozens of things.
Once he’d had them pretend they were adrift on a raft at sea.
He’d made her drink lemonade to avoid dehydration, and she’d very nearly peed her panties before he finally shouted that he saw land.
She smiled. He had been so mischievous, equal parts comforting and threatening her with punishments if wet herself.
Thinking of him caused huge waves of guilt to course through her. She’d brought another man, Colin’s friend who he’d always seemed a little competitive with, into their bed. A man she didn’t like and barely even knew. She flushed. What the hell had she been thinking?
“Sorry, Colin,” she whispered into the darkness. “I was lonely, but I—it won’t happen again.”