Caress Part Two (Arcadia) (7 page)

Little known fact: Coney Island and the West Side of
Manhattan are as far from each other as the Earth is from the Sun. At least
that’s what it felt like as Isaac lumbered at a snail’s pace along the
so-called expressway. At several points, I could have sworn that we were going
backwards.

In all fairness, traffic was light and we made excellent
time. That was fortunate because I didn’t think that I could keep my hands off
Emma much longer. By the time we pulled up in front of the Arcadia, I was rock
hard, straining at the bit, and ready to jump her big time.

Mister Twenty-first Century was nowhere to be found. The
caveman was thumping his chest and ready to roar.

We made it inside the apartment but not a whole lot farther.
As the door shut behind us, I pressed her up against the wall, pushed my hand
down those gorgeous banana yellow slacks that had set the whole day in motion,
and said, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I sure as hell am.”

Her answer was a low hum in her throat that cut right
through skin and bone to grab at my balls.

I was still absorbing the impact of it when I realized that
her hands were busily at work on the buttons of my jeans.

A moment later, she palmed my cock and I just about exploded
right then and there.

Only barely managing to hold myself in check, I grabbed hold
of that damn cherry top that had been teasing me all day and yanked it off over
her head. It hit the floor as I made swift work of her lacy bra.

Her gorgeous breasts tumbled free. I growled and suckled one
of her nipples while I caught the other between my fingers and tugged.

Visions of ripe, plumb, moist cherries danced through my
head but they had nothing on Emma herself.

She was soft, enticing, and so ready that I could wallow in
her forever. But my cock had other ideas.

Still suckling her, I yanked her slacks down, my fingers
easing under the little scrap of her panties and sliding into her. A groan of
relief broke from me. She was every bit as slick and hot as I’d hoped.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, grinding myself against
her.

“Oh, yes, please!” Miss Whittaker replied.

I took her at her word. Grabbing the cheeks of her
delectable ass, I hauled her legs up, positioned myself, and drove into her
with a single thrust. Being sheathed in her sweet, hot cunt gave me no relief.
On the contrary, my balls were so tight that the pressure shot straight up my
spine into my brain.

Gritting my teeth, sweating bullets, I reared back and drove
into her again…and again…and again. She was so snug, so hot, she fit me so
perfectly.

I was vaguely aware of the wall shaking as we banged against
it. Good thing that the Arcadia was an old building. We would have put a hole
straight through some of the newer ones.

I reached down with one hand and stroked her swollen clit,
catching it between my thumb and index finger, and pinched gently.

She screamed my name and went off like every July 4 firework
display that had ever happened rolled into one. Her cunt clenched again and
again, pulling me deeper than I had ever been, claiming me completely.

I was on the verge of the most explosive orgasm I’d ever
experienced when the tiny part of my brain that was still functioning finally
got through to me. It was flashing an S.O.S. in big red letters with sirens
going off and I swear there were monkeys waving semaphore flags all spelling
out the same message:

No condom! No condom! You forgot the fucking condom!

Shit, shit, shit!

I pulled out, only barely making it, and ejaculated all over
her stomach, belly, and thighs. I couldn’t stop coming even if I’d wanted to
which, to be honest, I didn’t. There was something deeply, savagely right about
marking her that way.

Mine.

All mine.

Whether she was ready to admit it or not.

Holding onto each other, we sank to the floor in a tangle of
half-removed clothes and naked limbs. My breathing was ragged, my heart
pounding against my ribs. I felt like I’d run a marathon but I still wasn’t
ready to stop.

Long moments passed before I recovered enough to confront
what had just happened.

I’d barebacked her? For real? First time ever in my life,
I’d had sex without a condom. Not even as a teen inclined to think more with
his balls than his brain had I ever done that. Was I out of my frigging mind?

The answer, obviously, was ‘yes’.

No one had to tell me how serious the repercussions could be
for both of us. But at least I could reassure her about one thing.

“I’m clean,” I blurted. “I’ve never done that before…had sex
without a condom. Ever. But I’ve been tested, too, just to be sure.”

She nodded but didn’t meet my eyes. Softly, she said, “I
think we’re okay on the other.” Her flush deepened. “It’s a safe time of the
month for me.”

My sigh of relief was cut off by the spark of regret that
suddenly flared deep inside me. I was shocked to realize that I liked the idea
of Emma becoming pregnant with our child.

In my present state of mind, I couldn’t even begin to deal
with that. It was all I could do to get to my feet and haul my jeans back up. I
didn’t bother to fasten them before I helped Emma stand. As I did so, I felt
her tremble.

Slipping my fingers under her chin, I nudged her head up and
asked softly, “Are you all right?”

She didn’t answer at first and my concern ratcheted up. But
finally a slow, sweet smile spread across her exquisite face.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you,” she murmured. “How
about you?”

The wave of relief that prompted made me giddy. I only just
managed to say, “Yeah…I’m good.”

“I was a little worried…we were in the car so long.”

“Way too long,” I agreed fervently. “I’ll have to have a
word with Isaac.”

A giggle escaped her. It was easily the sweetest sound I’d
ever heard, reassuring me that for all the wildness that had just happened,
she’d been right there with me.

“I really didn’t want to shock him,” she said.

“Bad idea,” I agreed. “He could have driven off the road and
then where would we have been?”

Without hesitation, she said, “Hoping the car didn’t explode
before we finished.” She raised her head and gave me a look that Eve would have
recognized. “Not that we would have noticed if it did.”

Man, that would have made the front pages of the city’s
papers. Maybe not
The New York Times
but the rest of them.
The Wall
St. Journal
would have given it a business twist—Phelps Properties careens
off course. But
The Daily News
,
The New York Post
, and every
internet news and gossip site in town would have had a field day.

Exactly the kind of circus that Emma was concerned would
result if we were seen together.

I put that aside as one more thing I needed to figure out
and said, “What do you say we get cleaned up?”

Her flush deepened as she glanced down at herself. The marks
of my possession were still clearly visible. “Good idea,” she murmured.

Not wanting her to be any more self-conscious then she
already was, I tried to be as matter-of-fact as possible once we were standing
beside the shower.

After I turned the taps on, I shucked off my shoes and
socks, and tossed the rest of my clothes onto a nearby bench. Emma was a little
slower, giving me a chance to watch what had to be the cutest strip tease I’d
ever seen.

She had an all-over blush by the time she peeled those great
slacks down her long legs and stepped out of them. With her gaze averted, she
slipped her panties off and quickly got into the shower. I wasted no time
joining her.

“Let me,” I said as she reached for the body wash.

She didn’t object but she did look away nervously.

I frowned, wondering why she was so ill-at-ease. We’d spent a
great day together, the best day I could remember, topped off with mind-blowing
sex. If anything, I’d have expected her to be more relaxed.

As I lathered up my hands, I resolved not to touch her until
I had an explanation. That being the case, I wasn’t about to mince words.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded

She hesitated but finally those big blue eyes looked
straight at me. A shy little smile curved her mouth.

So softly that I could barely hear her over the rush of the
water, she said, “That felt really good…what we did just now. You know…without—”
She broke off and looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her.

My throat tightened. Her honesty and courage overwhelmed me.
Still, I wanted more. “Without a condom?” I prompted.

She nodded. “Not that you don’t always…feel really good,
that is. But that was…special. There was nothing between us. I felt you more
than I ever have before.”

A bolt of raw lust shot through me, so powerful that I had
to close my eyes for a moment. It was either that or take hold of her, spin her
around so that her hands were braced against the black-and-white tile wall of
the shower, and fuck her into next year.

 “I’m going to see a doctor this week about birth control,”
she said.

“Good idea,” I managed hoarsely.

I stared from the froth of soap on my hands to the marks of
my come on her beautiful skin. Keeping my breathing shallow and my mind as
blank as possible, I said, “Let’s get you clean.”

I started by gently massaging the nape of her neck and her
shoulders. Her muscles were tight at first but the careful pressure of my
fingers soon changed that. A soft moan broke from her as her head fell back and
her eyes fluttered closed.

“That feels so good,” she murmured.

So would everything else that I had in mind to do to her but
first I was going to prove to both of us that I was still in control.

Slowly, I ran my hands over her breasts, cupping them in my
palms and skimming my thumbs across the nipples. Resisting the urge to roll my
tongue over them and suck each, I went on, along the slim curve of her waist to
her abdomen and thighs.

All the while, I watched her intently. A flush crept over
her cheeks and her breath quickened as a soft pulse sprang to life at the base
of her throat between her collarbones.

By the time I slipped a soapy hand between her legs, over
her sex and between the crack of her ass, I was hard again. I wanted her in
every possible way to the extent that I had to wonder if I could ever have
enough of her.

That was a novel idea for me and more than a little scary
considering her insistence that we were strictly temporary.

Bound and determined to cure her of that notion, I eased her
back against the wall, letting the water wash away the traces of soap. Slowly,
I lowered myself down her body, kissing and tasting her as I went. Her hands
caught in my hair as she whimpered softly.

As gratifying as that was, I was aiming for a whole lot more.

On my knees, I parted the lips of her sex and gently stroked
my tongue over the slick pink folds. She stiffened and tugged my hair like she
was holding on for dear life.

“Lucas…” she moaned.

I broke off just long enough to murmur, “What is it, baby?”

“I want…oh, god, that’s…
oohhh
…”

She gasped and yanked hard enough on my hair that I stopped
again and looked up at her.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her lips moist and parted. Gazing
down at me, she said, “I want to do that to you. I keep fantasizing about it.
You in my mouth, sucking you—”

Holy fuck, I was going to come right there in the shower
from nothing more than the image she put in my head with a few choice words.

I made a mental note to have phone sex with Miss Whittaker
at the first possible opportunity and said, “Far be it from me to ever deny
you, sweetheart. But first—”

I renewed the sensual assault on her slick, sweet cunt,
driving my tongue up into her at the same time that my thumb found the tight
rosebud hidden between her ass cheeks and pressed just a little way into her.
The gush of her juices told me how close she was.

“Come for me, baby,” I murmured.

She cried out hoarsely as her whole body stiffened. I held
her through the spasms of her orgasm, relishing every tremor, then stood and
took her mouth, thrusting my tongue into her, letting her taste herself.

“You are so sweet,” I said when I finally broke off. ‘I’ll
never have enough of you.”

She stared at me, drowsy and sated, as I lifted her into my
arms and carried her to our bed.

“Nothing?” Caroline’s eyebrows rose. I could see that she
was trying to contain her disappointment but she couldn’t quite manage it.

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “If Margo left anything in
the apartment that could shed light on who killed Senator Prentice, I haven’t
been able to find it.”

We were having coffee at a sidewalk café near the Arcadia. I
was grateful to Lucas’ sister for coaxing me out on such a beautiful day. Much
as we would both of have liked him to, he couldn’t stay away from the office
completely. When he was there, I worked non-stop. It was either that or count
the minutes until we could be together again.

Minutes that I feared were running out. In the week since
our sweet, silly day at Coney Island, I’d made progress curating the
apartment’s contents. The spreadsheets listing each item and its valuation were
filling up steadily. Too soon the work would be completed.

I couldn’t bring myself to face the question of what would
happen then. Instead, I took refuge in the mystery surrounding the decades-old
fate of another pair of lovers.

Another? What was I doing, thinking of Lucas and myself in
such romantic terms? He’d said nothing about continuing our relationship once
I’d finished the job. On the contrary, after initially seeming displeased by
the idea, he appeared satisfied to live in the moment, just as I’d asked him
to.

Though we slept together every night in the master
bedroom--when we slept at all--I was still technically staying in the guestroom
upstairs. At least my clothes were there along with my toothbrush and
toiletries.

I needed that degree of separation, small though it was, to
keep me from forgetting how fragile life could be, how quickly everything could
change, and that nothing was ever necessarily how we believed it to be.

Inevitably, this whatever-it-was with Lucas would change,
too, and when it did I would have to get on with my life just as I had before.
But at least I would be the better for having known him. That I wasn’t about to
deny.

“Are you all right?” Caroline asked softly.

Startled back into the here and now, I smiled
apologetically. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted.”

“My brother’s not working you too hard, is he?”

At the thought of exactly how demanding Lucas could be, I
flushed. We truly couldn’t get enough of each other.

 “So that’s how it is,” she said with a knowing smile.

“No,” I replied too quickly. “It’s not—I mean…it is but
we’re just—”

What were we? Fuck buddies? The crudity of the term made me
wince even as my brain insisted on tossing it up for consideration True, we
fucked, insatiably and explosively. But we did other things, too, from our
breakfasts on the terrace to curling up together and watching Margo’s old
movies at night with so many other small, precious moments in between.

When he smiled suddenly at something I said… Or he made me
laugh with a funny quip… Or he lifted a wisp of hair away from my cheek and
then dropped a kiss on the back of my neck… Just the memory of all that was
enough to send a pleasurable shiver down my spine.

Friends with benefits might be a better description. The
idea of Lucas as a friend was undeniably tempting. But the thought that we were
just resorting to each other in order to scratch a sexual itch left me hollow
inside.

“Just what?” Caroline prompted, arching a brow.

She possessed a very feminized version of her brother’s
stunning good looks and, I suspected, shared more than a little of his
formidable will. Patience wasn’t her strong point but tenacity certainly was.
Once something engaged her mind, she didn’t let go.

But I had the perfect way to change the subject.

“We’re just as interested in Margo as you are.”

I was stretching the truth since Caroline’s fascination with
the Prentice case might be called borderline obsessive. But we were living,
however temporarily, in the movie star’s apartment and I was going through all
the things she’d left there so it did have some basis in fact.

“Did you know that Lucas thinks she may have killed Prentice
herself?” I asked.

Caroline stared at me dumbfounded. I didn’t fool myself that
her curiosity about my relationship with her brother had disappeared. But at
least she’d put it on hold.

 “No way!” she exclaimed. “He hates that I’m interested in
that case but now it turns out that he has a theory of his own?”

“I wouldn’t call it a theory, exactly. He just suggested
that Margo could have become a recluse out of guilt instead of grief.
Personally, I don’t believe it but—”

“Why don’t you?” Caroline asked, seizing hold of the idea.
“If she did kill him, that would explain why there’s nothing in the apartment
to shed any light on the murder. She would have destroyed anything like that.”

“It still doesn’t fit,” I insisted. “If she’d actually done
it and then been haunted by guilt, do you think she could have kept that to
herself? She would have broken down at some point and the moment she did, the Prentice
family would have been all over her. They’d never have stopped until they got
to the truth.”

“Maybe it wasn’t herself she was trying to protect,”
Caroline said. I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “Maybe
there was somebody else.”

It was my turn to be surprised. “Lucas thinks that Prentice
might have been involved with another woman. Are you saying that it could have
been Margo who was being unfaithful instead?”

“Why not? Men don’t hold the patent on infidelity, far from
it. Relationships are complicated. Just figuring out what we want can leave us
tied up in knots.”

A fleeting look of sadness came and went across her face. She
was silent for a moment before she said, “Enough about all that. Let’s get to
the important stuff. What are you wearing to the gala?”

I stared at her in bewilderment. “What gala?”

“For the Arts Council, tomorrow evening? You and Lucas will
be there, right?”

Not as far as I knew. He hadn’t said anything to me about it.
With a sudden pang, I wondered if he’d reconsidered the wisdom of us being seen
together in public. If he had, I certainly couldn’t blame him for it.

At Coney Island, we’d blended in among hundreds of other
couples and gone unnoticed. But if we attended a gala together, our names would
be irrevocably linked.

Aware that Caroline was waiting for an answer, I hedged. “We
don’t have any definite plans.”

She shrugged. “Well, I hope you’ll come. It’s not as boring
as some charity events. You’ll have a good time.”

Before I could think better of it, I said, “That’s not very
likely. People have long memories.”

Her face tightened. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand me.
“No one has any right to punish you for what your father did. And as far as
your trying to defend him, that was what any son or daughter would have done.”

I swallowed against a sudden wave of emotion and said
softly, “That’s kind of you to say but it doesn’t change how most people feel.”

“Screw them,” Caroline said. At my startled look, she nodded.
“I mean it. You walk into that ballroom on Lucas’ arm and I guarantee that no
one will so much as frown at you.”

A part of me resented the idea that all I had to do was show
up attached to a powerful man and my past would be forgotten. But I understood
only too well how the world worked and I knew that what she was saying was
probably true, at least so far as it went.

“My being there will still remind them of what happened,” I
said. “Being linked to me couldn’t possibly be good for Lucas’ reputation.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Caroline asked. She
looked as much startled as amused. “Oh, honey, trust me when I say that he can
take care of himself. He’s a good, honorable, decent man but he’s also
definitely not a guy to cross. Plenty of people in this town and beyond are
well aware of that.”

She studied me for a moment, then asked, “Do you know what your
father’s biggest sin was in the eyes of the one percent? He exposed gross weaknesses
in the financial system that they depend on. In the process, he shook their world
and scared the bejesus out of them. But the fact is that because of what he did
at least some new safeguards have been put in place. The system is a little
stronger now. They should be grateful for that.”

I gaped at her. “You think they should be grateful to my
father? Seriously?”

“Not to him but they should appreciate that the chances of
someone doing what he did have been reduced. And they need to stop hassling
you.” She looked at me squarely. “As tough as this is going to sound, you need
to stop letting them.”

Bitterness welled up in me. I nearly choked on it when I
considered what I’d been through. “Letting them? I got death threats.”

“That’s terrifying, not to mention disgusting. But hiding
won’t make you safe. It just makes you look guilty by association.”

I wanted to insist that she was wrong but the words wouldn’t
come. Instead, I thought suddenly of Margo. She’d hidden away from the world
for decades after Prentice’s death and here we were, speculating about whether
she could have killed him.

Caroline really did have a point.

“Lucas hasn’t mentioned the gala to me,” I admitted.

“He probably just doesn’t want to give you too much time to worry
about it.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “That sounds like him.”

She nodded. “He’ll ask you to go. When he does, I just hope
you make the right choice.”

So did I.