Taint

  “If you stop what you’re doing, Justice Drake, so help me God, I will tie you to this bed and go all Misery on your ass!”

  I laugh, letting the vibrations transfer from my mouth and tickle her sensitive flesh. I enhance the feeling by inserting my index finger, and licking her in slow, lazy circles. “Ok,” I say, kissing her soft folds. “You talk. I’ll lick.”

  “You really expect me to be able to form actual words? Sentences? That make sense?”

  “Do you want me to finger-fuck you and suck your clit until you come so hard in my mouth that you pass out?”

  Her eyes grow wide with delight. “Yes please.”

  “Then talk to me, baby.”

  I devour her sex like it’s my last meal before a beautiful death, savoring her sweet-salty flavor. I’m so hungry for her; I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks and only Ally can sate my need. Her knees shake against my ears, and I remove my fingers to grip her thighs, opening her wider for me. Then with a maddening rhythm, I alternate sucking her clit and fucking her with my tongue. I want to taste every bit of Ally. And when she comes, not a drop will spill over onto the sheets.

  “Talk,” I command, when she’s too overcome with pleasure to utter a coherent word.

  “God! Oh, you…oh, God.”

  “That’s flattering, but call me Justice.” Suck. Lick. Stick.

  “Justice.” She’s so breathless, my name sounds like a soft breeze. “Justice. You son of a bitch. How dare you…how dare you do this to me.”

  “Do what, baby?” Suck. Lick. Stick.

  “This. All…this. Now I know…I know what I was missing. And I can’t…I can’t be without it. I can never go back.”

  My rhythm falters, and I groan against her quivering flesh, trying to bury myself in it. What does she mean by that? Never go back? Does she want to stay with me and leave Evan? Is that even an option for her?

  But mostly, shit… Is that even an option for me?

  I know I want her body more than I want my next breath. And I know that meeting her, basking in her smiles and wanting her on me like a second skin has forever changed me. But can there ever be more? Can I spend every night counting her freckles, like I once counted the stars? Can I replace my sunrise with the vision of her sleeping beside me, fiery hair, wild and tangled all over her face? Can I swim in those too-big turquoise eyes and drown myself in her laughter every night?

  I think the bigger question is, How can I not?

  There’s no doubt that I want to be with Ally. I knew it the day I knocked on the door to her suite. It wasn’t those walls closing in on me; it was fate. And if Ally is my fate, losing her—being without every quirk that makes her so uniquely flawless—will be fatal to me. And that’s what terrifies me more than I could ever admit.

  So if all we have is now, I’m going to make her remember. I’m going to become a permanent stain on her body that she’ll never be able to wash away. And when she closes her eyes and squeezes her thighs together, I’m going to ensure that she’s imagining me here. Like this. Setting off fireworks within her slick, sweltering heat, like the 4th of July.

  Ally cries out with her release, cursing me and praising my name, as she crumbles in my hands. And, just as I promised, I suck and lap up every drop of wetness seeping from her pulsing sex, prolonging the violent waves of climax. She begs me to stop, but I don’t. She only thinks she’s dying right now, as I lick the stray droplets running down her ass. Little does she know, that I claimed her life the moment she broke inside my palm against the shower wall.

  That was the very second she became mine, no matter whose last name she bears. And every time she came thereafter, I was just marking myself deeper and deeper into her skin like a tattoo. Carving out a space that would only be for me.

  Justice + Ally.

  “CALL IN SICK tomorrow.”

  I grin sleepily and kiss her forehead. “It’s already tomorrow.”

  “Then call in sick today.”

  “I never call in sick, even if I’m sick.”

  “Please? I don’t know…I don’t know how long I can have you like this. I’m not ready to let it go.”

  I squeeze her body into mine, and breathe her in. I just want to memorize this moment. Her scent, her taste, her softness. I want it burned into my mind like a tumor, growing and influencing every thought and action.

  Ally kisses my bare chest, her lips so warm and delicate, like the brush of a feather. “Please?”

  One arm still tucked under her body, I reach over to grab my phone. “There,” I say after tapping out a text to Diane. “I’m sick today. So sick. I wonder if someone will nurse me back to health.”

  I feel Ally smile against my nipple. “Are you asking me to play Naughty Nurse, Mr. Drake?”

  “I don’t know. Are you down for some sexual healing?”

  She kisses me again. “Most definitely. But later, ok? I really do want to talk to you.”

  I roll my body towards her and position my arm, so she can rest her head on my bicep. “About what?”

  “About…” Her gaze goes glassy and distant. “Next.”

  “Next?”

  “What’s next?”

  I swallow and take a few breaths to collect my thoughts. I can’t ask this woman to leave her husband. I can’t tell her to ruin her lavish lifestyle in exchange for one of refuge and isolation. This isn’t what she knows. Financially, I could give Ally whatever she wants, but socially? She’d be like me. An outcast. A fallen star that once shined brighter than a million diamonds.

  I can’t be certain a life with me would be enough for her. I can’t be certain that even I would be enough for her.

  “What do you want to be next, Ally?” I hold my breath.

  Her eyes sweep over my lips, my chin, my neck then back up to my face. “I don’t know. The future is scary. I just know that I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never been so out of control and reckless and totally wrapped up in a person...ever. But then again, what if all this is just a temporary high? What if the taboo of it all is what’s driving us together?”

  I brush her cheek, just so I can keep touching her. I need to remind myself that she’s here. Here with me. Not him. “Is that what you think this could be?”

  “Honestly? No. But I’ve been wrong before. And that’s cost me my freedom. Walking away without repercussion isn’t an option for me. My life would come crashing down.”

  I stay silent, because anything I could say would just be static. She’s right. She can’t just walk away. No matter what Evan does to her, no matter what he does with his little weasel prick, Ally has to play her role. The supportive, loving wife. Strong, resilient and tolerant. A perfect picture of grace and elegance.

  “Justice?”

  I smile through the infection of my thoughts, feeling them seep into my conscience. “Yeah?”

  “Do you want me to walk away? Do you want me to leave him?”

  My lips part, the answer burning my tongue. I swallow it down before answering. “I want you to do what makes you happy.”

  She kisses my lips in response before nestling into my chest like a sleepy cat. My lips are in her hair, and I wrap both arms around her body, refusing to let her go.

  I could make Ally happy. I could fill that void that’d be left from being extricated from the upper crust. But then what? What would that mean for my business? My reputation? Would I be exposing myself and reigniting the witch hunt that led me out to my lonely desert years ago?

  I feel her breaths growing deeper and heavier, so I let my own tired eyes slip closed. “Please don’t leave me, angel,” I whisper, somewhere on the edges of sleep and the most beautiful dream. “I don’t want to be in the dark anymore.”

  DRESSED ONLY IN soft, flannel pants, I pad out to the kitchen, led by the scents of bacon, eggs and toast. And coffee. Oh, sweet, wonderful coffee.

  A hot breakfast and fresh coffee would be enough to make most men salivate, but the sight of Ally fluttering around in one of my
prep school sweatshirts and nothing else, with a messy bun on top of her head, is just downright delectable. The thick, grey cotton is about five sizes too big for her and slips over a bare shoulder, exposing the top of her breast. I waste no time making my way over to cover that delicious patch of skin with my mouth.

  “Good morning,” she smiles, her attention on the pan of fluffy, scrambled eggs on the stove.

  “Morning. You weren’t there when I woke up.”

  “I was sticky and hot, so I needed to shower. Plus, I was too hungry to sleep. We only had ice cream for dinner.” She turns her head and gives me a soft kiss.

  “Speak for yourself. I ate more than that.”

  A blush paints her cheeks, and I can’t resist kissing the one closest to me, feeling her skin heat under my lips. Soon, they’re trailing down her neck and to the sensitive area under her ear.

  “Hey!” she squeals. “Some of us are working with scalding hot food here! Go sit down; your breakfast is just about ready. And your coffee’s on the counter.”

  I give her bare ass a pinch before doing as I’m told.

  “Oh, today’s paper was on the counter when I came out here. I hope whoever brought it in didn’t peek in on us. Holy shit, could you imagine?”

  “Nah. My people aren’t like that,” I say sipping my brew. I push aside the Arizona Republic and pick up the New York Post, thankful that it’s still neatly folded. Ally didn’t read it.

  I stop at the top story on Page Six, and blind rage has me seeing red. I can clearly read the headline—see his fake, solemn mug looking pathetic as fuck—but I can’t digest it. I can’t accept it. It’s a myth, a lie, like the fucking Easter Bunny or Santa Clause.

  I read the story again, dissecting every word. It’s bullshit. It’s all bullshit. Evan was reeled in by his equally fucked up father, and was basically spoon-fed those manufactured lines of regret. He probably had the same song and dance memorized, considering he’s spewed the same rubbish more than once.

  “Hey, can I get that after you’re done?” Ally asks, startling me from my murderous thoughts.

  I look down at the paper in front of me. Evan looks so distraught, so remorseful. He looks exactly like a loving husband would when he’s missing his other half. “Sure,” I nod. Then, most unfortunately, the mug in my hand, the one I’m tipping to my lips, suddenly slips from my fingers, and drowns those blasphemous pages with hot coffee.

  “Shit!” I hiss, jumping off my stool before the scalding liquid can hit my bare skin. I grab some napkins and sop up the mess, folding the ruined papers into a ball. Ally rushes over with a dishtowel just seconds after Evan’s face is marred beyond recognition.

  “It’s ok,” she says, drying the countertop while I discard the mess. “I’ll get you another cup.”

  “No,” I reply, coming up behind her. I kiss her neck, while my hands snake up the oversized sweatshirt that stops at the middle of her thighs. “You sit. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Evan may play a doting husband in front of the cameras, but I’m the one putting cream and sugar in Ally’s coffee. I’m the one serving her breakfast, even feeding it to her while her smooth, bare legs rest in my lap. And I’ll be the one spreading her body out on my kitchen breakfast bar and covering her swollen sex with mouth while she chants my name like a prayer.

  Ally may be Evan’s by law, but she’s mine by nature. And in a battle between lions, no one gives a fuck about what’s lawful. It’s all brute strength, cunning and instinct. Three things I’ve utilized my entire life to survive.

  WE’RE SITTING ON the couch, kissing like horny teenagers, while the TV plays in the background. Ally insisted she borrow a pair of boxers before sitting down, although I was more than happy to let her scent permeate the butter-soft leather.

  “So what do you want to do?” she asks, straddling my lap.

  I nudge my hips forward so that the hardened bulge under my thin pants presses against her mound. “I can come up with a few things.”

  She rolls her eyes and purses her lips, stifling a smile. “I’m sure you could. But seriously. Let’s do something fun.”

  “Like what?”

  Ally reaches over to grab my phone, and I nearly jump out of my skin. However, she doesn’t slide the unlock icon, and instead pulls up the camera.

  “Smile,” she says, taking the picture before I can react.

  I grab her by the hips and tip my head to the side. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking home a souvenir. I’m going to send these pics to myself. Come on, give me something I can work with.” The whir of the camera sounds three more times as she takes shots of my face, chest and abs.

  “Mmmm, very nice. This’ll do nicely in my spank bank.” I snatch the phone away before she can get another candid shot of me, causing her to protest. “Hey! I wasn’t done yet!”

  “My turn for a souvenir,” I reply, turning the camera on her. She instantly covers her face with her hands.

  “Are you crazy? That’s exactly what I don’t need. Half-nakey pics of the sullied socialite while she vacations alone with an unknown man. The tabloids will spin it to make it look like I was spread eagle on the couch, sucking a cherry red lollipop while making a sex tape.”

  “Now that’s an idea,” I smirk, the visual in my head making my mouth water.

  “I am not pulling a Kim Kardashian, Drake. So hand it over.”

  I snap a pic of her lips pressed in a hard line and her hand extended. “Ally, these are only for me. For my pleasure. I’d kill someone before I share these photos. I just want to be able to look at you…always. If I can’t keep you, at least let me have this.”

  Her gaze falls to her knotted fingers resting against my stomach, and she sucks in her bottom lip. “Ok.” Her eyes find mine, and she gives me a solemn smile. “Ok, you can have this.”

  I capture images of her looking at me through those sad, peculiar eyes. A wisp of red unravels from her bun, and I take the opportunity to snap a photo of her tucking it behind her ear, her gaze far away and thoughtful.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask, studying her through the lens.

  “How I can’t remember ever having this much fun. And being this happy. And how I’m terrified of what the future holds.”

  Tears collect along the rims of her eyes, and I stroke her cheek, forcing her to look at me. “Don’t think about that right now. Let’s just keep having fun and being free. Let’s be happy together for now and not think about tomorrow.”

  I kiss her hungrily, snapping an erotic selfie of the moment. In another place, at another time, it’d be my Homescreen. And Ally…Ally would be the first number on my Favorites contact list. And when she would call me to tell me about her day, or relay a funny story, or just to say that she’ll be coming home to me soon, her infectious, smiling face would light up the screen, those cyan eyes sparkling like the brightest, boldest stars in the sky.

  She pulls away just enough to bring her body into the frame, a mischievous smile on her lips. The naughty little minx is back, and I have every intention of capturing her and never letting her go.

  “Take your shirt off,” I command, my eyes fixed on the screen displaying her blush.

  “What?”

  “Your shirt. Lose it. I need a little something for my spank bank too.”

  She tugs at the hem of the sweatshirt, revealing just a peek of skin. “I swear to God, Justice, if you show anybody-”

  “Trust me, Ally. You trust me. Remember?”

  “Yeah,” she nods. “I do.” And with that, the sweatshirt slides over her torso and is on the floor, her beautiful breasts just inches from my hungry mouth.

  Ally covers her chest with her hands and looks away. “I look ridiculous, don’t I? You’re used to Big Boobs McGee shaking her Double Ds in your face. And here I am…the rack of a twelve year old. I’m practically a husky boy with moobs.”

  The camera whirs again, before I lower it, so Ally can see the seriousness etched on my face. ?
??Please don’t ruin this for me by comparing yourself to a boy. Or any adolescent for that matter. What did I teach you, Ally? Sex appeal isn’t about having big tits or a round ass. It’s not about your dress size or even how skimpy your clothing is. It starts inside here.” I graze her temple gently, and Ally shivers under my touch. Then I trail my fingers to her chest, prying her fingers from her breasts. “And here,” I say, splaying my hand over her heart. “Here, Ally. If you feel sexy, you’ll be sexy. If you believe it, so will I.”

  When her hands are balled at her sides, I resume my intensive study of her body. I zoom in on the cluster of freckles on her nose, and the tiny mole on her left breast. The heart shape of her lips, the bottom one just a fraction bigger than the top, giving her a permanent pout. The way her waist appears so small and narrow, yet solid enough that I’m not afraid of breaking her when I’m inside of her to the root.

  Ally is art. She may appear simple and understated to the untrained eye, but to me, she’s a rare, exotic piece that should be cherished and appreciated.

  “Lift your chin,” I instruct, recording the image of her slender neck.

  “I better not see Mary Kate and Ashley on the internet, buddy.”

  “Mary Kate and Ashley?”

  “Yeah. My girls,” she says gesturing between her breasts. “Small, maybe a little sad, but cute.”

  I lean over and cover her left one with my mouth. “Who is this?”

  “Ooooh. That’s Mary Kate. She’s the smaller, perky one.”

  I move my tongue to the right one, flicking the nipple before sucking it entirely into my mouth. “So this one must be Ashley.”

  “Yeah,” she answers with a gasp. “Which one do you like best?”

  I toss my phone aside, and it tumbles from the couch with a clatter. I don’t even care. Not when both of her breasts are in my hands, pressed together so both nipples stand erect to me. “I don’t know. I need to taste them both.”

  Ally’s eyes flutter closed as I thoroughly suck and bite the pebbled skin, careful to shower each one with equal attention. She moans my name and rocks her hips, running her cotton-sheathed sex over my bulging erection. I can almost feel the small wet spot saturating her borrowed boxers, through my pajama pants.