Shape

The Romance Writer (Part 4): Words Don’t Lie

“I want you,” she told him, her voice so low he could hardly hear her over the crackle of the fire and the crash of the waves.  “Right now. I want you to press me down on this blanket and lift up my legs, and pull off my panties, and stick your big, hot cock inside my — ”

How he wanted to do just that, but first, he had to send another text, make another call – he could tell by the sound of the waves this was a deep-water cove, just what Nathan and his crew would need to run in boats. Boats carrying drugs. 

And Cherie as the package – well, that could mean only one thing. He was in some way planning to use her as a bargaining chip with her father to get that access.

Mike wasn’t sure how he was going to play this. He wanted her safe. He wanted Nathan in jail for the rest of his life. He knew work came first. But Cherie came before everything else. Her safety. He had to think.

And he couldn’t think while he was screwing her.

“And I want you. Man, how I want you. But let’s step back – just a minute. It’ll be even better.”

She was astonished, her mouth a round “o” that he wanted to kiss. But no. He had to take her home, he had to tell her the truth, he had to make her safe.

But the case – how to handle the case.

“Well,” Cherie said at last. “Let’s get those s’mores going then. Because I was s’more of you.”

It struck him that bringing her here could be dangerous. What if Nathan was already scoping this out? It was doubtful, and Adam would alert him if Nathan was on the move, but still –

And speaking of alert, part of him thought he should put Adam on Cherie’s family, but he didn’t want to tip his hand too soon and blow the case. He was sure the FBI would agree. Keeping things as they were gave them a better chance at nailing Nathan and his boss, and keeping Cherie safe long term.

But how…

He laughed for her, he kissed those gorgeous breasts one more time, carefully, lovingly tucked them back inside her dress.

“No bra, though,” he said. “I’m keeping that safe and sound.”

“What about panties,” she teased, and oh so irresistibly, dropped down on the blanket, peeled hers away and – tossed them into the fire.

“You might say I’m burning up for you,” she said.

He wanted her so badly he could hardly keep himself going.

“I’m s’more hot for you,” he managed. 

She groaned and made the sound of a mock drum roll, and he pretended to laugh, and got out the marshmallows and the graham crackers and the chocolate and laid them all out on the blanket. The heat was making the chocolate soft, and she bent to pick up a piece, and she rubbed it against her hands.

“You said you wanted to lick me.”

And so he did, her hands, and her arms and she wrapped her legs around him, and he was practically bursting from his jeans.

“Don’t make me wait,” she said.

He could not make either of them wait.

This time, he let her unbuckle, unzip, and he lifted her skirt to see her, the soft curls of her damp pubic hair, her pink, open, rose-like pussy- and he could not hold back.

He was inside her, rocking her back and forth, the chocolate melting on the blanket beside them, forgotten.

Everything forgotten, except he kept listening, through the roar of the fire, the sound of the waves, the wind, her soft cries in the night, his own guttural moan as he came – to make sure they were still alone.

***

It was the most incredible feeling that she had the power over him, the pull to make him want her even though he said he wanted to wait. To feel his tongue licking the sticky chocolate from her fingers and wrists, to open her legs to him, and feel the heat of the fire and the hard, pulsing throb of his cock.

And afterwards, as they lay there, sweaty from the sex and the fire, the wind pushing over her skin like another caress, he reached down into the mess of the dessert fixings and fed her bits of melty chocolate, licking drips from her chin, freeing her breasts from her dress again and pulling her nipples straight out with his sticky fingers, then licking them.

She teased him with a streak of marshmallow in his hair, he teased her with a bit of marshmallow and chocolate on the lips of her pussy, and then they were fucking again.

Cherie was on top now, her dress just fabric bunched at her waist, and they were both crying out with the abandon you felt out in the open air with the wind and the ocean spray and the smoky heat of the fire and it was perfect.

Except that it wasn’t.

He seemed, even in the absolute thrusting heat of it, to be not quite entirely there. To be listening. To be thinking. To be holding back just a little.

It was hard to explain but she felt it. It wasn’t the same connection they’d had last night or this morning at the lighthouse.

And she began to feel just the smallest doubt that this was as right as she thought that it was. And to wonder just what she was doing here in the middle of nowhere making wild love with a man she’d just met…thinking they’d fallen, not just in lust, but in love.

Had they really?

***

When they finished a second time, both of them howling like sex-drenched wolves at the moon, Mike just wanted to go back to the town. To the light. To Adam in the van watching. 

It was all impossible. How much he wanted her, wanted to please her, gave in, was overcome by her feelings and his, and how much he needed to think, work, act, follow through.

And he hated to even admit it, but this wasn’t how he wanted to tell her who he was. He couldn’t explain himself here.

He couldn’t tell her what was going on just yet. If she rejected him, he’d have no way to personally guarantee her safety unless Nathan was out of commission for good.

If he couldn’t nail him, and his boss, Cherie and her family’s lives would change. 

Nathan and his boss Enzo Tanner never let go of a plan once it had been set in motion. And protective custody was not something to be undertaken lightly. Cherie might hate him for that. Or she could hate him simply for lying.

Lying even as he stroked her naked breasts, licked her nipples, used his tongue to find her clit, and make her glisten with saliva and come, make her cry out in the darkness.

Lying as he decided the best course of action would be to make sure that Nathan didn’t suspect they were on to his plans. 

She was melting, absolutely melting. He was making her come again, the fire was hot on their skin, his breath caught in his throat as his hand roamed down, down, between her legs, stroking her warm thighs. 

He had a feeling now that everything would work out all right. He would fix it. He would catch the bad guys, save the day, keep the girl, that’s the way it always worked in Cherie’s books. Maybe that was what he liked about being with her, she made him feel like he could be one of her heroes.

But just then he heard his phone vibrate, saw the face of it light up lying on the edge of the blanket. Saw that it was Adam.

He kissed her cheek. “Let’s go home. We can spend all night making love and watching the sky get light.”

She got up so quickly. Too quickly. 

And now he was the one asking her what was wrong.

***

 “You just quoted a line from my last book. Exactly,” she said, her voice oddly cool. 

She was pulling herself together fast. She wished she hadn’t tossed her panties into a bonfire. Like she was with someone she could trust enough to get crazy wild with. Like she was a character in the book he said he never read but was quoting. Quoting for the second time today.

And why did he keep getting texts and calls? And why was he so interested in her father’s land? And…

Yes, it was definitely time to go home but she was done making love for the night.

Maybe she should stick with her vibrator. It was a lot safer bet.

***

Mike realized he’d blown it. He’d been so distracted by the buzzing of his phone. Which had now stopped. How could he have been so stupid? He was angry at himself for not being more aware of what he was doing, and surprised too. 

And now the cell phone finally stopped buzzing. Now. He plucked it from the blanket as he tamped down the last of the fire. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not trying to quote anything. I don’t really know what you’re saying I’ve done.” It was lame, lame.

“You do. Why would you say things I wrote? Have you been – stalking me? Trying to get over on me, for…for some reason?”

“No!” he spun toward her indignant. “The only reason I have for being close to you is because I like you. I like you a lot. A lot more than I could’ve imagined.”

“Could’ve imagined when?”

The phone buzzed again.

“You should get that,” she said. “I’ll wait in the car. Go ahead, answer your call. Give me your keys.”

He tossed them to her and realized, as he watched her scramble over the dune and unlock the passenger side she could easily drive away and leave him here.

He kicked sand over the fire, and called Adam.

 “Yeah. What is it?” Mike asked.

“Nathan’s not here on his own. Tanner’s in town.”

Tanner never showed up personally. He always worked to keep his hands clean. That was Nathan’s whole function, to orchestrate the dirty work.

“Must be a good reason.”

“I dug into it. I think there is. That land parcel? The conservancy is considering selling a piece of it. In this economy, they’re looking for a revenue stream to preserve the bulk of it.”

“So? What does that have to do with Tanner being in town?”

Mike rolled up the sticky blanket. 

“Cherie’s dad is the one hold-out against the sale. And the would-be purchaser is a holding company we can connect back to Tanner. How do you want to play this?”

 Mike swallowed hard. “I don’t want to spook Tanner when we’re this close. Get some men watching the family’s house, though. And let me know if there’s any action.” 

***

The drive back to Depoe Bay was painfully silent except for the soft music playing. His own mind was hardly quiet, though. 

It wasn’t at all the way he’d thought the night would go. The entire day he’d just wanted to be with her. He would like to tell her the truth right now, but not until he could lock Tanner and his crew away from a long, long time.

When he parked in front of her apartment, he tried again. He could hear the desperation in his own voice. 

“Tell you what. I’ll let you sleep, I promise. We have all weekend to spend together. But I’d like you to go to sleep in my arms. Can we do that?”

“I’d love that,” she said, but her tone belied her words. “Just not tonight. I really need – to sleep – and I need some space, I think. Okay?”

And then she was out of the car and up her front steps before he could kiss her. 

He pulled the car around to the side of the building. Whether she wanted him to or not he was going to protect her. His phone buzzed again. This time he snapped up the call. 

“Yeah.”

“More info. Nathan’s not in the apartment. He’s on the move. Down by the docks. Thought you’d want to be there yourself.” 

 “I’m on it,” he said. “But I need you to keep Cherie in your sights.”

***

Cherie took a hot shower. Her thoughts swung like a pendulum between how, and why, and what. And came back to how – as in how she had ached to be with him. She had just wanted to feel his arms around her and listen to the sound of his voice. It felt so right. Until of course – it didn’t. 

Maybe as far as she was concerned, love belonged safely only in the pages of a book, not in real life. 

She scrambled out of the shower and pulled on a T-shirt and shorts.

She would never sleep, feeling like this. She opened her lap top. She’d write another scene. An angry scene. But it would end, as she and Mike should’ve ended their night, with Suzanne and Jake in bed. 

I’m angry, Suzanne would say. I don’t understand what you’re even doing with me.

We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Jake would reply.

…and then he pulled her roughly against him, and raised her dress to her hips. He pushed her silky black panties to one side, and slipped his thumb inside her, moving thick circles in her, until she was wet, so wet she could feel herself dripping around his thumb, so wet it was just a moment longer before she cried out. “Yesss…”

“Keep saying yes to me,” he said, his tongue moving along her neck, to her shoulder.

“I can’t trust you,” she said.

“You know that you can,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her throat, moving them lower, kissing her breasts through her gauzy dress, through her bra, nibbling at her nipples through all those layers. She gasped. Now he was unhooking the bra and shoving her dress low so that her breasts popped out through the top, and fingering them, licking them. And she was letting them.

It was all so easy to give in; everything was so easy for him, with her. She should stay angry, but she could not. He was biting, little love bites on her nipples, which made her wild. And now he was stroking her pussy, back and forth with his thumb, she was gushing around that thumb, she was electric with wanting him. He pulled his thumb from her and she moaned. He wiped his thumb against her leg, and up across her crumpled dress, leaving a line of her own wetness. She was burning up for him. He was the fire, and only he could put it out. It was so easy to give in. 

It was the way he always took her, so easily…

She couldn’t stop herself.

“I don’t trust you anymore. But I want you anyway,” she said. “Take me right now. Before I send you away.”

He pressed her down against the bed, raised her legs, and stripped off her panties, pulling them down to her ankles, but leaving them there, binding her. He climbed on top of her, spread her thighs with his palms and slipped his cock inside her. She was open, ready, dripping; he was rock hard. She exploded around him as he pushed in and out, in and out of her.

She rode him; they matched each other in and out, stroke after stroke, both of them building both of them flushed and excited with the game of it.

“I want you in spite of everything,” she said.

“And I want you. I want to feel every piece of you, touch every inch of you, with my fingers, with my tongue, with my cock…Let me have you. Let me touch you. Let me stroke you until we both melt…”

Cherie clicked ‘save’ and stood up. She couldn’t write this now, anymore than she could sleep. Should she call Mike? Ask him to explain himself? But would anything he might say seem real, seem true? Or would she, like Suzanne, just give in?

She stood at her window a moment, her forehead pressed against the cool glass, trying to calm her breathing. She stood staring out at the opaque fog. And then she saw it. There was a van parked outside. She couldn’t see clearly enough to know for sure, but she thought maybe there was someone sitting in it.