Bittersweet Deceit (13 page)

“I have plans tomorrow at nine.”

“I see.”

The silence and his energy shift made me want to cry. I had never known any person whose energy felt so full and all encompassing. I believed he could actually sense information from people because his heart was so open, like a conduit and a receptor.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sadness casting a shadow over us both. I pulled away and he let me go.

We drove to the boutique in silence
, the distance between us palpable.

My heart ached for Stay and yet I wanted to be with Mason. Why I felt so committed to a
relationship that had no future made no sense. I could see that, but couldn’t stop it, and I really didn’t want to. Mason lived as an
enigma, so worldly, and sexy, and not like anyone I ever thought I would get the chance to be with. He rocked my world and I had accepted what came with that, all the costs.

Along with
the pleasures Mason had brought to me, it was a lonely relationship. It’s not like I’d had blinders on. I could see it for what it was and that it had a short shelf life.
Why couldn’t have Stay waited? Why now? Maybe we could have been something to each other if he had only waited.
I had never seen the potential between us before, but I clearly hadn’t known him.

“I’m sorry,”
I said again silently.

Once he parked in the back of the shop, I gathered my belongings and walked around to his side of the car. He stepped out and stood in front of me.

“Thank you again,” I said, searching his eyes, hoping that friendship still existed for us. “I had a wonderful time.”

“I did too.”

The awkward silence made me uncomfortable. I put my stuff on the front of the car and stepped closer to him. “You’re a great guy, Stay. Really.”

“
I know my worth. Someday I hope you know your own.”

I searched his eyes and saw
heaviness there, the same feeling that overwhelmed my heart. It felt like a final goodbye, not like ‘see you soon’.

He took me into his arms and I melded against him. We rocked for a moment and then he whispered, “I hope you change your mind.”

I stepped back and collected my stuff. My eyes filled as I walked to my car.

My empty apartment exacerbated my bittersweet emotions. Instead of having one maddening relationship, I now had two.

I stripped out of my clothing and tossed them into the laundry basket. Sleep seemed far away yet so I got ready
for bed and pulled my journal onto my lap.

I need to let my feelings for Stay find their rightful place. Friendship. He is a great man, just like I said to him. I’m just not the woman for him. Maybe he and Samantha could date. They both have beaten their addictions and she was definitely attracted to him. Sam is gorgeous in her own right. Her long straight blonde hair and white skin with those blue-green eyes attract all the men. She might be young, but caring for Sarah has matured her. Maybe I’ll drop a hint or two.

Ugh! Why does that idea make my stomach hurt?

I wonder what it would’ve been like on Wednesday had Mason shown up on time. Would he have taken care of me like Stay did? He says he would have. I wonder if I would have been as comfortable with him. I never let people see me when I’m down or going through something, other than Jacqs and my dad. How would have Mason dealt with me breaking down?

I sighed deeply and then started again.

Tomorrow should be fun. I have no idea what to expect and he didn’t give me any instructions of how to set up for it, like the time he rented a massage table, which showed up unexpectedly. Masseuse/client was very fun. VERY!

I need to stop thinking about Stay and
the incredible night and focus on my time with Mason. I hope he doesn’t ask me about tonight. Please don’t let him ask me about tonight.

I closed the journal, turned on the soft mix on the iPod station, and rested my head on the pillow. Both men swirled in my mind until I finally fell asleep.

I
awoke on Saturday resolved to focus on the upcoming time with Mason.

After having a cup of coffee and a cigarette on the balcony, I took a long
, hot shower, giving my under arms, legs, and lady parts a smooth shave. I took extra time on my hair, curling up the bottom of it, working to recreate the look of a French spy from a 1960s film I’d seen years ago. If I had to be a detective or something else, I’d pull my hair up into a twist before we started. I used black liquid eyeliner to create a cat like effect on my eyes and chose a blood-red lipstick. Cat would be proud of me.

Just as requested, I donned a black bra, garters, stockings and the highest black heels I owned. I didn’t recall him mentioning panties, so I left them off. I slipped into my gray trench coat and tried
to relax on the couch. I felt anxious to see Mason again. Fear and excitement mixed an odd cocktail with arousal as the garnish. I desperately wanted to reaffirm my connection with him.

At nine o’clock sharp, I heard a rapping at the door, like the police do in movies.

“Open up.”

G
etting into character I deepened my voice. “Who is it?”

“It’s the
FBI; I have some questions for you.”

“
One minute please.” I made him wait for a couple moments.

“Open up! What are you hiding in there?” he said, his voice gruff.

I unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open. “Officer, what do you want so early in the morning? I’ve barely had the chance to dress.”

“I’m not an officer, I’m FBI
. Now let me in.”

“Do I have choice?”

He pushed the door open and I stepped back. While he scanned the apartment, I took in his outfit. He certainly looked the part and sexy as ever in his black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He also had on reflective sunglasses and carried a black briefcase. His five o’clock shadow was obvious. I held back my smile.

“What can I do for you officer?” I said as I closed the door behind him.

“I already told you I’m not an officer, I’m an agent. Are you Natalia Bancroft?”

I threw my head back and laugh. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”

“I don’t think so. Do you know this man?” Agent Mason asked, holding up a picture of a half-naked Jake Gyllenhaal.

I struggled to hold in my laughter. I shook my head and said, “No, but I might like too.
Sorry I can’t help you.”

“Well hopefully you will help yourself.” He spun me around and pushed my upper body over the couch, handcuffing my arms behind me.

My clit was already coming out of hiding. It pulse and tingled. Trying to focus on the game instead of my amped up arousal, I said, “Like I said, you’ve got the wrong girl. I’m not Natalie something or other, and I’ve never seen that man before.”

“We will see about that.”
He yanked me up to stand, led me to the second bedroom, and placed the extra chair in the middle of the room. Forcefully, he sat me down, my arms over the back.

“This isn’t very comfortable and I’m not who you think I am.”

“Where were you on Friday between the hours of six and one a.m.?”

I sputter
in response, his question throwing me completely out of character.

He stomped back and forth in front of me and said, “If you won’t talk, I’ll have to torture it out of you.”

Realizing that not talking was an option, I regained my composure. “I have nothing to say,” I said with a sexy, deep voice.

“We
will see about that.” He placed the briefcase down on the couch and opened it. He then retrieved a black strip of material, which I hoped would replace the handcuffs. Instead, he tied it around my eyes. Everything went black and my breathing accelerated.

I had never been blindfolded before and I wasn’t yet sure how I felt about it. My nipples were certainly on board because I could feel them straining against the material of my bra. He past behind me and chills rushed over the surface of my skin. Not knowing what he might do had me on edge and highly
aroused.

“First question, young lady
and I highly recommend you answer. What is your connection to
Stas
, the known Russian spy?”

“I have no connection to him,” I asserted.

His hands grasp my left leg and I yelped. He pulled my knee out wide and tied my ankle to the leg of the chair. On the other side he applied the same treatment. Although the trench coat had me covered, I felt wetness gather on my thighs.

“You would do yourself a favor
to stop lying. This is your last chance. Answer carefully. You were seen with him last night. What is your connection to him?”

“For the last time, I have no connection to a Russian spy and I don’t have the slightest idea who you
’re talking about.”

“Have it your way,” he said.

I felt his hands unbuttoning my coat as I imagined his hard cock straining against his black slacks. Trembling, I wondered what he would do to me next.

“It’s time
. I have my ways to make you talk.” He spread the coat wide and fondled my breast over the lace, black bra, making my nipples full and hard. Air then hit my chest as he pulled down the straps freeing my breasts. The warmth of him, which had loomed over me, left and I could hear him rummaging for something in his briefcase. “This will make you talk.”

I shivered in excitation and trepidation. He had never hurt me before, but I couldn’t
fathom what he had in mind. “Oh fuck, what is that,” I yelled when I felt something sharp and cold clamp down on my nipple. It hurt initially, but then I adjusted to the pressure and started panting. “Oh god. I’m telling the truth. I ... don’t ... know—oh fuck!” He clamped my other nipple and I could hear a chain jiggle between my breasts. The pressure on my swollen buds accelerated my titillation and caused a deep yearning to be fucked and fucked hard.

“Are you ready to confess?” He aggressively grabbed my face and moved my head up and down in a nod.

I pulled my head back and shook it. “No!” I heard him walk away and out of the room.
What the hell is he doing now?

He quickly returned and moved in front of me. “If you are unwilling to confess
I will have to up the ante.” A buzzing sound filled the room as I felt the pressure of his finger against my labia.

I heard him grunt and knew he must be as turned on as
I.

Hands on either side of my ass made me jump. He drew my lower body forward to the edge of the chair and then inserted
a vibrator into my vagina.

It felt so good, I just wanted to moan. Instead I said, “I swear I
’m not Natalie and I don’t know anyone with ties to the Russians. You ... oh god ... have me confused with ... with ... with someone else.”

He pushed the vibrator deep inside of me and drew it out slowly, making sure the vibrating head grazed my G-spot.
He grunted again when I moaned out loud. Keeping in character, he said, “Our agents saw you out last night with the known suspect. Explain yourself.”

“I can’t
, oh, I don’t know. There were a lot of people around ... I ... I ... ohhh.”

Then the real torture began. He removed the vibrator, denying me
the orgasm that hovered close. “My agents saw you talking to
Stas
and we won’t let you go until you tell us how to find him.”

“Please. There is nothing I can tell you,” I cried.

“Can’t or won’t.” His angry voice was quite convincing.

“Is there a difference?”

“We’re about to find out.”

I felt a soft pressure against my lips
and Mason’s salty smell filled my senses. My lips parted and I licked the head of his cock.

“If you don’t tell me how to find our man, I will have to give you my truth serum.”

“No, please, not that ... anything but that.”

He reached behind me and untied the blindfold, letting the material fall to the floor.

He stepped back and what a sight to see. He had removed his jacket and sunglasses. The tie around his neck had been loosened. Through the opening in his pants, he held his smooth cock, slowly stroking it from the base to the tip.

There was a new intensity in his expression. Whether it was acting
or something else, I didn’t care. I wanted whatever he planned to give me.

Coming closer, he ran the tip of his hard-on around my lips. I strained forward to try to get more of him in mouth, but he pulled back allowing only the head to float in and out past my lips.

His pale blue eyes blazed down on me and held my stare. “What is your connection with
Stas
and don’t lie to me?” He continued to jerk his cock right in front of my face.

Peering up at him, I said, “None.” But I wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

He seemed to see the waver in my expression and said, “We are going to forgo the truth serum treatment and escalate the interrogation.”

Jumping back into character, I said, “
Please! I’m not sure I can take much more.”

“Then tell me what I want to know.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t give you the information you want.”

He removed his pants and his whitey-tighties
. It felt as if he tried to possess me with his stare, like he could lasso my heart with it. The tie came off next and then he unbuttoned his shirt revealing the hottest chest I have ever had the pleasure of seeing or touching. The smattering of hair highlighted his well-defined pecks.

“This is going to cost you,”
he said, kneeling down in front of me.

I wasn’
t sure if he was playing the game or talking about my time with Stay. Hoping it was role playing, I said, “I’m not a Russian spy and you have me confused with someone else.”

He untied my
ankles from the chair and lifted me, leaving the nipple clamps in place. After shoving the briefcase away, he grabbed hold of the handcuffs and manhandled me over the couch onto my knees. He pushed the trench coat to the side, exposing my ass.

I started to shake in desire and apprehension. I desperately wanted him to fill
me, but I didn’t want it to be out of anger.

Not waiting for me to catch my breath, he lifted his arm and spanked my ass with strength. “I will make you talk if it’s the last thing I do,” he grunted.

My arousal grew with each subsequent thrashing until he stopped.

Behind me, I felt his weight settle against me, his
hard cock poised at my entrance. “This will make you more pliable,” he groaned as he thrust deeply into me.

“Oh god, anything you want,” I cried when he
finally took possession of me.

Using my
cuffed arms as leverage, he repeatedly crashed into me with full force.

I was s
o wet that the juices inside me made a swashing sound each time he withdrew and recurred. Incredibly turned on by the foreplay, I quickly reached the precipice of a riotous orgasm.

He must
have known because he slowed down, letting my climb fall off. “Are you ready to talk?”

“No!” I grunted, grinding my ass against him, trying to find fulfillment.

“Prison is not a fun place for strumpets like you,” he said and resumed his hard fucking.

“Oh
, Agent Mason,” I emitted as my orgasm began.

He
reached under me and tugged on the chain between the nipple clamps, accelerating the violent explosion.

Grunts, groans,
and moans escaped as I struggled to catch my breath.

“I’m not done with you,”
he said not giving me any time to recover. He clutched my shoulders and upped the pace and intensity. He rammed against me, over and over, until I hung at the edge of another huge release. As the girth of his cock expanded he slowed down the strokes, making it last longer for both of us. “You’re mine, Lainie, don’t forget it.”

But are you mine?
I wondered just before my orgasm obliterated the thought. We cried out together, coming in unison.

I fell forward onto the couch
, my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest.

Mason
pulled me up and unlocked the cuffs behind me, the trench coat sliding down my arms.

“This going t
o hurt,” he said just before he removed the nipple clamps.

I yelp
ed at the sensation. I had become used to the pressure, and had to adjust to their absence.

He held my nipples tight, slowing letting the blood back in.
His hands then massage my shoulders that had grown sore and tight in their bound position. After the tension in my shoulders relaxed, we lay down side by side and spooned together.

I floated in our afterglow, trying to ignore the implication of the game.