Bittersweet Deceit (28 page)

Just before the edge of oblivion overtook me, I thought of Stay and wondered if I’d feel the same about him when I saw him at his place
tomorrow.

A
t work on Tuesday I felt on edge the entire day. I hadn’t contacted Stay and even with all that had happened, part of me was waiting to hear from Mason. Stay said that Mason wouldn’t give up easily and yet it felt like he had. His lack of communication felt like further rejection. Rationally I understood that hearing from Mason would make matters worse but that didn’t keep me from craving any kind of sign that he was still thinking of me.

I missed him and the idea of us. The Lainie from the days of Mason had perished and I missed her too. In some ways Stay felt like a Band-Aid
, a sweet, sexy, considerate, masculine kind of first aid. Almost like candy that was slightly too sweet. I certainly didn’t have the willpower to resist because in his arms I enjoy orgasmic abatement from my anguish.

When my phone chimed I ran to the back to check it.

Stayman:
You’ve exhausted my patience so please forgive the intrusion. What time will you be here?

Me:
Around eight. I’m not exactly sure how to get there. Should I pick up some food on the way?

Stayman:
Why don’t I pick you up? Got food covered.

Me:
That’s silly. Why pick me up?

Stayman:
Did you pack clothes for tomorrow?

Me:
Yes.

Stayman:
Then I’ll come get you and I can drive you back in the morning.

Me:
Why?

Stayman:
Then you are my captive and can’t run off in the middle of the night. You’re shaking your head, right?

Me:
I am. You’ve conveniently forgotten that I took a cab from your place last time.

Stayman:
Well then, I’ll just tie you to the bed. And STOP shaking that pretty head of yours.

Me:
Fine. Seven thirty and thanks.

Stayman:
Oh, and OC...

Me:
Yes...

Stayman:
I have plans for you.

Me:
You’ll have to catch me first.

Stayman:
The trap is already set.

Me:
Let me finish up so I’m ready by the time you get here.

Stayman:
I’m on my way.

Damn the man for being so darn charming and cunning. With him I felt sure I’d experience something new. That potential already had me turned on and hungering for his touch. The perils of emotional involvement had me dreading it in equal measure.

I turned off the lights in the shop and headed back into the office to grab my bag and purse.

The bell rang on the back door.

“Coming,” I yelled. I flipped of
f the computer screen and then the office light.

After locking the door behind me, I too
k in Stay’s appearance. He wore jeans and had on a very nice sateen turquoise dress shirt.

“You let your hair dry naturally,” he said, fingering the bottoms of my
light-brown hair.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“You’re beautiful, Lainie, and it always goes to my head.”

I couldn’t help
myself; I glanced at the front of his jeans.

“Come on, OC, it’s already getting late and there
’s still lots to do.”

“To do?”

“Plus I ran you a steaming hot bath and I don’t want the water to get too cold. Let’s go.” He took my hand and opened the passenger door to the Corvette. “You’re chariot awaits.” He waved me in.

We ro
de with the top down, music blasting, my hair flying in every direction, and I was able to relax into the wind. I rarely put the top down on my own car and it was nice to experience it with another.

“You don’t have to dress up for me, Stay,” I said as he pulled into the garage under his building.

“Do you like this shirt?”

“Well, yes,” I said,
touching the fabric.

“Do you like me in this shirt?”

“Of course. It makes your eye color even more intense.”

“Just because we
’re casual dating, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make an effort. Just like you leaving your hair wavy for me.” He came around to my side of the car and helped me out. “I can’t wait any longer,” he said, taking me into his arms.

His kiss bore into me, ferrying me away from my problems and into his energy field. In his arms he at once infused me with strength and weakened my resolve. Breaking away from me, he said, “We need to stop or I’m going to take you on top of my car. Jesus
, woman, it’s like you cast this spell over me and my need to take you roughly surfaces with such force that I have to fight against it.”

“Who asked you to fight it?”
I said, stepping back and straightening my shirt.

“Don’t say
shit you don’t mean, OC. I mean it.”

I stared at him. Neither of us smiled. Truth be told, I wanted him to fuck me and fuck me hard. It was far easier to take than being made love to. His domination allowed me to escape to a safe place, away from the realties I had to
face. The sweet stuff just left me feeling guilty as if I were cheating on Mason and deliberately hurting Stay.

“I mean it,” I said.

He opened his mouth and then shook his head. “You’re bath awaits.”

Inside, I heard soft music playing. After removing my shoes, Stay brought me into his bedroom. He unbuttoned my top and stepped behind me to remove my bra. With his
hands he caressed the surface of my back and neck. He flipped me around and tickled up my stomach to my breast.

I had to push away from his intense expression. On my knees, I
unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off.

“Lainie,” he said, looking down on me.

“I need to taste you,” I said, tugging on the boxer shorts that were in my way. Once I sucked his cock into my mouth, I risked peering up at him again.

“I know what you’re doing. Oh Jesus
, it’s working. Lainie, come on, let’s bathe together.”

I rested down on my
heels and said, “As sweet as that sounds, can we please fuck first and clean up later. I promised I’ll be more relaxed by then.”

“Why
, Lainie?”

“You’re asking a question you really don’t want the answer too. Now take me and take me hard.”

His chest moved up and down rapidly. I could see him struggle between what his body wanted and what he thought was right. He clinched my hair in his hands yanking my head back. I opened my mouth, staring up at him. He forcefully sluiced in and out of my throated a few times and I groaned around him. Still holding onto my hair, he pulled me to my feet and led me over to the couch. “Goddamn it, Lainie, I wanted to introduce you to the tantric chair in a different way.” He roughly bent me over the high end of the chair, my hips over the top, just barely on my tiptoes.

He plunged into
my wetness without mercy and I cried out, “Yesss ... don’t stop.” His cock banged against my cervix and I welcomed the pain. “More, harder,” I yelled.

My hair in one fist, my shoulder gripped in the other, he thrust rapidly and I could tell he was angry. Wholly turned on
, but pissed off too.

I didn’t care. I lifted my feet off the ground, the chair holding my weight and spread my knees wider apart.

He grunted when he finally hit all the way home.

My orgasm threatened as he split me wide with his girth and speared me with his length. “Don’t stop. Stay, don’t stop. Oh please ... I’m ... going to come!”

He pounded through my release and then pushed off of me. His hand rubbed across his short hair as he paced away from me and then back. His engorged cock stood at attention, not lessening in the least. “Goddamn it!”

“Would you please relax?” I said, reaching out
to touch his leg as he paced by again. I stood up and faced him.

“
I feel like...” he started.

“Like?”

“I could hurt you with my intense need,” he confessed.

“If you mean your pulsing cock, I can handle it. If you mean your emotions, then I’m at a loss.”

“My way this time,” he said, sitting on the couch, his back against the high end, and his legs on the floor on either side. He drew me to him and I straddled his lap. “This position is going to be deeper so let me know if it’s too much.”

He was right. The angle of the chair
slanted my hips in perfect alignment with his cock. As much as I fought the sensuality before, it felt exquisite having his hands softly caressing my ass and back, through my hair and over my shoulders, while the front of me lay atop of his. The chair allowed us to kiss with ease, my hands fondling his head and neck.

Then he flipped us around so my back was against the chair
. In an elevated missionary, with his feet on the ground, the position gave him leverage to grind his hips
into me. Resting my head on the top of the chair arch, I swiveled my pelvis into his thrusts. I watched as Stay tugged on my hard nipples. He then folded my legs under his arms as he continued to penetrate my pussy in a slow, sultry rhythm. I held the back of his head, our eye contact absolute.

“You feel so good
, Lane. Thank you for letting me take my time.”

“This ... time, oh yes ... this time.”

“I could do this forever ... just like this. Can you feel—you’re so wet.”

“Don’t stop,” I said, kissing him deeply, circling my arms around his back.

He laid his hands on the top of the chair on either side of my head and increased his propulsion.

“Stay.”

“What, sweetheart?”

“Ohhh!”

“I feel it. Look at me.”

And I did. I cried out staring deeply into his eyes
, tears blurring my vision.

He demanded that I open myself to him in a way that scared the
hell of me, but oh, it felt so damn good too.

I convulsed around his shaft again and
groaned, feeling so utterly full. “I’ve never felt—”

“Me either.” With one arm around my waist and another around my back, he helped m
e to move up and down on him until he came, and came, and came. His face contorted in extreme ecstasy as he grunted out, “Lainie.” When his orgasm subsided, he fell against me, his lips to mine.

We kissed and caressed until we both
settled back to earth.

“Shall we bathe?” he asked.

“Sure. I can see why you like this chair.”

“You haven’t seen much yet. There are several other interesting positions we can try.” He got up and held out his hand to me.

I let him pull me up and usher me to the bathroom.

“I’ll let
some of the water out and turn on the hot water.”

“Candles?” he asked.
Three large candles sat on the outer ledge of the tub.

“Sure,” I said. “I rarely take the time for a bath. This is a special treat.” I lit the candles and once the water temperature was right, we got in.

I leaned against him as he leisurely washed my skin with a washcloth.

“What was going on when you first got here?” he asked
casually.

“Do we have to talk about that?”
I glanced at him over my shoulder and then turned back around.

“Yes we do. I believe in honesty and transparency and whether we are friends or more, we should be able to talk about anything or ask
each other anything. Holding it back just leads to lack of authenticity in a relationship.”

“You mean like me and Mason.”

“No, OC, I wasn’t referring to you but speaking generally.”

“Okay
. You asked for it.” I took a deep breath and spit it out, “Sex with you, you demand so much. Too much. When we fuck, and it feels incredible by the way, I can get lost in the fierce sensation without involving my heart. When we...”

“Make love?”

“Yes, that. You rip my heart open and strip me bare,” I said.

“I do what?”

“At least that’s how it feels to me,” I said, watching my hand as I swirled it in the water.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? All you’re going to say is interesting?” I spun around in the tub and rested back on the opposite end.

“I wasn’t finished. It feels the same for me and different than it has with anyone else. The major difference is that I can’t get enough of it
, and you want to run away from the feeling.”

“Do you blame me?”

He lifted my foot into his lap and massaged it. “Given what you’ve recently been through, not at all. But you should know, I don’t know how to do things part way. If you really want a fucking, after tonight you’re going to get it. Just be sure you know what you’re bargaining for.”