Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Fabien
The present
Having given Sienna space after our disastrous start to what I had planned as the perfect date, I find her cutting large swaths of black fabric in her work studio.
My funeral suit?
A sardonic breath escapes me, because I can’t be certain that isn’t what she’s making.
Willing to risk it, I stick my head in the studio. “Take a break for a little bit. There’s something I’d like to show you.”
“No thanks,” she says coolly. “I’ve already missed two back-to-back classes, and I’m falling behind on my project. I’d rather not get expelled.”
“You’re auditing the class; there’s no grade, so you can’t get kicked out. And even if you did, I’d poach the instructor as your private tutor.”
Sienna’s eyes narrow as she holds up the sheers like a weapon. Oh yeah, risking life and limb. “You act like money fixes everything.”
If only it were that easy: I’d go broke ten times over if it meant fixing Sienna and my relationship. “Come with me. Please?” I’m not above begging.
“Whatever.” Sienna gives the sheers a toss. Not at me, which is a good sign.
I escort her out and to the waiting SUV, being as the car gesture backfired in epic proportion.
“Where’s Saint?” Sienna asks when she notices a guard behind the wheel.
“Busy doing his saintly duties.” A sweep of the property came up empty. Now Saint is pouring over hours of security footage to determine how the phone got into the bathroom in the first place.
“There are no saints,” she tells me.
“Only sinners,” I agree, spreading out and bumping her knee with mine. “We’re more fun, anyway.”
Sienna narrows her eyes. “Does it look like anyone’s having fun around here?”
“We used to have fun together. I know you think it’s impossible, but I believe we can get back to that place.”
She remains silent.
“Do you know what I felt for the first time in years when I learned that you married Michele to spite me?”
Sienna pats her cheek with her finger, faux considering. “A gripping sense of defeat?”
“Hope.”
“Hope is for fools,” she says dismissively.
“Be a fool with me, then.” I tuck a strand of hair that’s escaped from her bun.
With the defiant shake of her head, she tells me, “Sorry, current husband. You’re on your own.”
Before she can plaster herself against the window, I lean over, my words tickling her ear. “I may have been able to pry these sexy legs open—long enough to give myself the world’s worst case of blue balls.”
Despite what I’m sure are against her best efforts, she chuckles softly.
“But getting inside this locked heart of yours.” My palm splays over her sternum. “Damn. We’re talking prison riot lockdown.”
“And this somehow shocks you?” Her tiny hand collars my wrist, yanking my hand away. “That I grew a thick skin? To survive your world, I had no choice,” she says bitterly.
“But you have a choice now. A soft life is yours, if you’ll stop being so damn stubborn and accept it.”
She makes a disgruntled sound, and I continue, “There will be no family business involving you going forward. And no family business involving me that would make you unhappy. The call girl ring will remain shut down,” I promise her. “Permanently.”
“But then how will you embarrass me publicly without your bevy of call girls to choose from?” Sienna asks sweetly.
“Dammit, I’ve explained Chantelle—”
“Michele at least had the courtesy to screw his mistresses at his condo away from the marital home,” she continues. “Perhaps you could take a page from his playbook—”
“Fuck Michele’s cheating ass, and fuck his playbook. Pull over,” I bark at the driver, and he slows and pulls to the side of the road. “Get out.”
“I’m sorry,” he sputters.
“I need a moment with my wife. Get out of the car.” Our convey in the front realizes we’ve stopped, and backs up, while the vehicle behind us pulls to a stop.
“Yes, boss.” He slips out of the car and closes the door, and I press a button, the privacy shades blocking out all views.
Now alone with Sienna, I grab her face, jerking it inches from mine. “I don’t want to hear that man’s name in your mouth again.” With a snarl, I slam my lips to hers.
Sienna’s nails claw at my chest, and just when I think she’s going to shove me away, she pulls me closer. “I hate that I want you,” she hisses against my lips.
“Yeah, you do,” I rasp, grabbing her by the hips and placing her on my cock. She begins rocking against my erection, and I groan in her mouth.
Breaking the kiss, the fire in her eyes is enough to singe me. “I’m going to make you come into your pants, and you get to walk around the rest of the day with an embarrassing wet spot.”
She calls it embarrassing; I call it a badge of honor.
“Won’t take me long,” I warn her, grinding her harder against me.
Her hips still as she eyes me suspiciously. “You’re lying about not having sex in prison. There had to have been a pretty nurse or correctional officer more than happy to help out.”
“I’m a man obsessed with you. Only you.” I get her to rocking again, wishing she weren’t in these damn yoga pants, only because I need better access. “Accept it, baby.”
“I won’t,” she declares, holding onto my shoulders for better leverage.
“You will,” I promise her on a groan.
“Cocky,” she spits.
“Guilty.” Releasing her hips, I grab the hem of her tee, and she doesn’t fight me as I bring her arms up and the fabric over her head, tossing it on the floorboard. Yanking her lacy bra cups down, her tits jiggle out.
“Fuck,” I murmur, my fingers tweaking her hard nipples before pressing her tits together with the palms of my hands. “No, it won’t take me long at all, not with you grinding that greedy little pussy against me, these goddam perfect tits in my face.”
I duck down and capture a nipple, rolling my tongue around the pebble before sucking on it gently. Kissing it, I move to her other nipple, and it receives the same undivided attention.
“Sexual chemistry isn’t enough to fix us,” Sienna says on a breathy moan.
“Maybe not, but it’s a hell of a good start,” I argue, lifting her hips and yanking her yoga pants and panties down enough to where I’m able to play with her clit.
With her sexy little moans and those nails scraping the back of my head, no, it won’t take me long at all. “You wanna make me come in my pants?” I remove my hand from her glistening clit, and she huffs her displeasure.
Retrieving my ice pick from my jacket, I stab the spike into the leather seat, and Sienna gasps.
“Ride the handle.”
Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “You’re sick.”
“Dark calls to dark. Unless you’re scared,” I challenge her.
With fire in her eyes, she kicks off her sneakers and wiggles out of her yoga pants and panties. My eyes have a difficult time deciding where to land on a nude Sienna. Fuck, she’s perfection. “Just so you know, current husband, I find your use of reverse psychology annoying,” she informs me.
“And yet your pussy is dripping down your thighs.” My finger gathers the wetness and pushes it inside her.
“Oh,” she gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“So fucking wet.” I groan as my finger kneads the ridged spot deep inside her.
“So fucking annoying.” I’m sure she meant to spit those words at me with fire, but it comes out as the sexiest of breathy moans.
With reluctance, I remove my finger from the sweet spot, tapping the handle of my ice pick. “Ride it like the bad girl we both know you are.”
Sienna climbs off of me and eyes the ice pick with a look of uncertainty.
“Mount it and slide down gently,” I encourage her, spitting on the handle.
Through a haze of lust, I watch as she turns her back to me, hovering on her knees over the steel. On a gasp, she comes down hard, the handle disappearing inside her.
My body shudders as I move to my knees, ducking my head so it’s not hitting the ceiling.
Nestling my face against her shoulder, I grind my erection into her ass as she begins to move back and forth on the handle.
“I take it back; this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
” My voice is pure gravel. My cock stone.
Best fucking idea I’ve had my entire life.
“We’re both fucked up in the head,” she says on a moan.
“Mmm,” I murmur my agreement.
Sienna begins to move her hips faster, and I thrust my cock against her ass, keeping rhythm with her pace. Her breathy little pants and moans fill the vehicle, and fuck, those sounds of her pleasuring herself are enough to drive me over the cliff.
“I’m gonna come,” I say through clenched teeth. “Are you close?”
“Ye-s,” she breathes, and I bite down on her shoulder as her body detonates.
Sienna goes limp, and I hold her against my chest, grinding out my release against her ass. “Goddammit, Sienna!” My movements become jerky as my balls draw up, and I curse, wetness spurting inside my boxers.
“You didn’t say my name,” I growl against her shoulder, my chest heaving.
With a defiant gleam in her eye, she cranes her neck to look at me, and down to the huge wet spot in my suit pants. “Very observant.”
A lazy grin stretches my face as my hand wraps around her throat to bring her in for a kiss, but the mood shifts in the car—from playful and satiated, to fearful and shut down.
“Shit, baby, I’m sorry.” Realizing my mistake, I drop my hand. “You don’t like that anymore.”
The walls around Sienna are being erected before my eyes. She silently dismounts from my ice pick and gathers her clothes, getting dressed quickly.
“Sienna, talk to me,” I beg her.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Her voice is as cold as steel, as the steel she just rode like a champ.
With a frustrated growl, I yank the pick from the seat and resist the urge to lick the handle, tucking it inside my pocket.
We ride in a heavy silence to our destination: an old Calvani Seafood warehouse.
“Why are we here?” Sienna asks, refusing to look at me.
“You’ll see,” I tell her, praying I don’t fuck this up too.