A Million Dirty Secrets (16 page)

However, I did let my fingers relax in his hair so that he could regain some freedom of movement. He apparently thought that meant he had permission to stop, because that’s exactly what he did.

Note to self: the next time Noah Crawford has his face buried in your pussy, do not let go of the back of his head.

“Come down here, baby,” he urged me as he put his hands behind my knees to help me down.

I sank down onto his lap and immediately claimed his mouth with my own, wanting to show some appreciation for the pleasure he had given to me.

“That … felt … so good,” I managed to get out between kisses.

“Yeah?” he asked with a conceited grin.

“Yeah,” I said, pressing my sensitive pussy against his hard-on. “I want to make you feel good now.”

“Delaine …,” he warned.

“I know, I know, but I don’t think it will hurt. If it does, we’ll stop, okay?”

I wanted to do it, plus I was still so horny for him, even though he’d just gotten me off. I didn’t know how to explain it. All I knew was that I really wanted to make him feel good, and I didn’t think that sucking him off was going to be enough to show my appreciation after what he had done for me. I wanted him. I wanted his cock buried deep in me.

“Please?” I begged pathetically.

“I want to … really fucking bad,” he said, squeezing my hips and moving me against him. “But we shouldn’t. Not yet.”

His hands stilled on me as he turned his head away. And then in this really detached and commanding sort of voice, he said, “We’re going shopping today. Go on up to the room and get dressed. I’ll use one of the other bathrooms.”

What had just happened? He was all Richard Gere sexy and chivalrous one minute, Attila the Hun tyrannical the next.

“So I guess now we’re back to the whole ‘I bought you and you’ll do as you’re told’ thing?” I asked, stung once again by his rejection.

“We never left there. I said I want you to feel good, but that doesn’t change anything. I just wanted you to know that I’m not a total bastard.” He still refused to look at me.

“Yeah, well, I disagree,” was my only response. If he could act the part of the authoritarian boss, then I could certainly act the part of the disgruntled employee.

I removed myself from his lap again and climbed out of the hot tub. In my rush to find him, I hadn’t thought to grab a towel, so when I saw his draped over the back of a nearby lounge chair, I took it for myself. I heard him mutter an expletive behind me, but I didn’t think it was over the stupid towel. Regardless, I didn’t bother to look back at him before I wrapped it around my torso and went back into the house.

Of course he was right. Not about him not being a total bastard, but about nothing having changed. I had been stupid and naïve to think that his kind words during his momentary lapse meant he actually had a heart. I mean, what sort of knight in shining armor runs out and buys a whore for his own selfish purposes anyway? Regardless of the fact that he wanted me to feel good as well. That was only something else he got off on—knowing he was so good that he could command total control of my body when I’d lost all ability to control it myself.

Back in the room, I jumped into the shower, leaning against the wall as the water washed away my tears of rejection. What the hell was I doing? I’d thrown myself at him, practically attacking the man who was supposed to disgust me. And why? Because he gave great head? I was the disgusting one. He was supposed to be the predator and me his prey. Yet I was carrying on like some crazed nymphomaniac.

And where did I get off, getting off while my mother, the sole reason I’d done this in the first place, was lying at home in her bed, probably dying? I hadn’t even called to check in, for
Christ’s sake. I didn’t think it had anything at all to do with the distraction that was Noah Crawford, but maybe more with my shame, with a fear that if I talked to my folks they’d somehow know what I’d done. Of course that was silly. The fact of the matter remained that I had no clue if they’d found my mother a donor or if the surgery had been scheduled yet. I knew Dez would call me if there was something seriously wrong, but for all intents and purposes, my parents thought I was in New York getting an education, not right under their noses in Chicago getting my freak on. They were probably worried to death that I hadn’t called.

I shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. I could hear Noah mumbling a string of profanities from his closet, and I stifled a giggle. Apparently he didn’t like my organizational skills. Within minutes, I heard him slam the closet door.

“I’ll be in the goddamn car! If you know what’s best for you, you won’t keep me waiting!”

With that, another door slammed and he was gone.

My towel still wrapped around me, I grabbed my cell phone and sat on the side of the bed. Just one push of a button and two rings later, my father’s voice came through on the other end.

“Lanie, sweetie. What’s wrong?” Mack’s tired voice sent a pang of guilt through me, and I wanted to cry.

“Nothing’s wrong. Can’t I just call my parents to check in?” I asked, trying to sound irritated, in an attempt to keep the sadness out of my voice.

“Er, yeah, of course you can. How’s the Big Apple treating you?”

“Fine. My classes are intense, and one of my professors is a gigantic bastard,” I answered, only slightly lying. Okay, so I was doing some serious lying, but technically, there really was someone in authority over me who was educating me. Just not the sort of education my parents thought I would be getting.

“Yeah, well, keep your nose to the grindstone and stay away from all those frat parties and you’ll do fine, kiddo.”

“Mack, you sound tired. Are you getting any rest at all?”

“I get enough.” He sighed, used to hearing me nag him about his own health. “She needs me, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do. How is she?” I asked in a more somber tone.

“Mom’s hanging in there. She’s awake if you want to talk to her. It might actually make her feel better. In fact, she’s got some good news for you.”

“Yeah, I’d love to hear her voice.” He didn’t need to know just how true it was.

I could hear him saying something in the background and then the shuffling of bedcovers as he handed her the phone.

“Lanie? Is that you, baby?” My mother’s voice sounded weak.

“It’s me, Mom. How are you?” I choked out.

“Meh, I’m not so bad,” she laughed lightly. “Hey, I’ve got good news. An anonymous donor deposited a huge sum of money into our bank account. Can you believe it? Mack says it’s a scam, but I think it’s an answer to our prayers.”

“Oh, wow! That’s great, Mom,” I said, genuinely happy that I’d brought her a little bit of sunshine when all her days had been filled with gloom.

She started a coughing fit, and Mack had to take the phone
away from her, but not before she managed to cough out, “I love you, baby.”

“Is she okay?” I asked my dad, concerned.

“She’s fine. Those fits hit her sometimes when she tries to talk too much.”

“So, good news about the money, huh? Do me a favor and don’t try to overanalyze it or anything,” I said. “She needs that money. I don’t care where it came from. When is she scheduled for surgery?”

“That’s the thing, Lanie.” I heard a door close in the background and assumed he had left the room, not wanting her to hear the rest of our conversation. “Having the money is great, but it doesn’t do a damn bit of good if she doesn’t have a donor. There are so many people ahead of her … I don’t know if it will be in time.”

My God! That thought had never even occurred to me.

“Don’t worry, Dad. Miracles have a way of happening when we least expect them.”

“You might be right.” I could still hear the doubt in his voice.

“I know I am,” I affirmed. I’d managed to get the money; somehow I’d manage to get her moved up the transplant list, too. There had to be a way. I refused to believe that the universe would let me put myself through all this only to let her die in the end.

“I’ve got to get to class. Give her a kiss for me, and promise you’ll get some rest.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You do know it’s the parent’s job to worry, right?”

“I’ll always worry about you guys. It’s killing me that I can’t be there right now.”

“Don’t go all sappy on your old man, Lanie. Get off the phone and go live. Love you, kid.” With that the line went dead. I was shocked because Mack rarely ever expressed his feelings. It wasn’t like I ever questioned that he loved me. I knew he did. It was just a shock to hear it.

Suddenly I felt a renewed strength in what I was doing. Talking to my parents reminded me of the reason I had been so hell-bent on doing it in the first place. And the truth of the matter was, I would’ve done this even if Jabba the Hut had been the one to purchase me. As infuriating as Noah was, it could’ve been worse.

Now I just had to figure out what to do about that transplant list.

It wasn’t right.

The girl was killing me, one raging hard-on at a time. Blue motherfucking balls!

She was too willing, too enticing, too hard to resist. But I’d done it. God help me, I’d done it. Even when she’d stuck out that voluptuous bottom lip of hers, I had resisted.
Welcome to sainthood, Noah Crawford
.

The night before had been great. Really great. But I’d felt like shit afterward. I’d stolen the girl’s virginity, for Christ’s sake! Everything that should’ve been in place for something that monumental just wasn’t. There was no romantic setting,
no vow to love her until the end of time. Only pure animalistic fucking. I’d fucked her. Plain and simple.

And while it had been great for me, I had a hard time believing it had been the be-all-and-end-all for her. Yet she wanted more. Delaine Talbot was a glutton for punishment.

But it was what I wanted, right? Someone there to fulfill all my sexual desires and fantasies, a woman who would cater to my needs, while I wouldn’t have to give a shit about hers. No emotional ties, no arguments over where we were going to have dinner, no awkward first kiss or meeting the parents, no chance in hell of catching her in my bed with any so-called best friend, no strings attached. Period.

With Delaine and that contract, that was exactly what I had. So why was I questioning it?

Because somehow it felt different. Different was good. And when different was wrapped around my cock, it was really fucking good.

Okay, that solved my mysterious momentary lapse in direction. With my head screwed back on straight again and motivation rekindled, I waited for Delaine to join me in the limousine for our shopping trip. Lingerie shopping. I was really looking forward to it, too, even though I knew it was only going to add to the permanent rise I was sporting in my Levi’s. But that was okay because I was wearing the loose-fit ones, commando. That should keep me from busting through the zipper, right?

Wrong.

Samuel opened the door for Delaine when she finally came out to join me, and I swear I could have killed Polly Hunt with my bare hands. Or maybe I should give her a raise.

My million-dollar baby was wearing a little black cotton skirt that barely covered her ass, and a blue tank top, the same color as her eyes, sans bra. Judging by how hard her nipples were, I’d say the limo was a little chilly and I needed to have Samuel turn the air-conditioning down. Or not. A high ponytail and black peep-toe heels completed her ensemble, and I mentally noted both as things to hold on to while fucking the shit out of her again in the very, very near future.

“How was your date with Polly?” I asked, trying to get it together because I was about five seconds away from the very near future, figuratively and literally.

“I had a lot of fun with her,” she said. “But you were right. She is extremely nosy. Lucky for you, I’m quick on the draw.”

She laughed, and it sounded almost dainty, so unlike what I’d seen of her so far. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I mean, if she started acting all innocent and shit, that could potentially make me feel worse about what I was doing. I needed to piss her off or get her to piss me off.

“Mmm-hmm, that’s nice,” I answered quickly. “So you don’t have anything on under that skirt, do you?”

“What?” she asked, taken aback. “Um, no. You threw out all of my clothes, remember? And you wouldn’t let me buy any underwear when I went shopping with Polly.”

“Let me see,” I said with a nod.

“Let you see what?” she asked with a slight edge to her voice.

“That pretty pussy.”

She arched her brow at me defiantly, but I met her stare.

“You’re serious?” she said incredulously.

“Yes, I’m serious. Lift the skirt, goddamnit!” I was an ass, I knew it. But I had to raise my voice to really piss her off.

“You’re such a jerk,” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes, but she begrudgingly pulled up her skirt to reveal my toy anyway.

Delaine was looking at me like I’d lost my fucking mind, which, admittedly, I probably had. But her expression changed when I undid my jeans and pulled out my cock.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here and spit on it,” I said, ignoring her question.

“I
tried
to sit on your dick in the hot tub, and
you
said we couldn’t do that yet. But now when we’re in a moving vehicle, with someone sitting on the other side of a thin glass barrier and hordes of people all around us outside the car—now you want me?”

“I said ‘spit,’ not ‘sit,’ ” I corrected her, and then she got a look of disgust on her face. So of course I had to clarify the purpose. I mean, I didn’t want her to think I was some sort of fetish freak. “I need the lubrication.”

“For what?”

“My dick is harder than a fucking titanium rod and I can’t fuck you, but you come out here with your nipples all pert and your skirt barely there and I can’t take it anymore! I need some release. So if you don’t mind—and even if you do, I really don’t give a shit—I’m going to jack off before I end up taking you like some savage caveman. Because I most definitely cannot even think about you in fucking lingerie in my current state.”

“Oh,” she said simply, her mouth keeping the O shape for longer than was necessary.