4: In Which She Takes It Hard (1/2)
4: In Which She Takes It Hard
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It had been three days since the alleged break-in and Reed had returned to painting in the basement for hours on end. Never completely satisfied with anything he started, most of his canvases ended up tossed aside and ruined. The blindfold would occasionally make an appearance and on these instances, I'd watch him unabashedly, fighting the temptation he presented. It had taken a few days but I was finally tamping down my frequent nympho thoughts.
On the outside, I was patrolling the grounds and making sure the gate hadn't been tampered with, but on the inside, I was simmering because here was yet another man who thought he could con me.
Break-in and theft, my left ass cheek.
Even if a group of twenty people somehow knew the layout of Reed's dungeon-like basement and each hoisted one of the heavy-as-fuсk easels onto their backs like worker ants, there was no way in hell they could have done it so stealthily. Plus, the gate at the entrance of the estate was one of those remote-controlled ones that were a bitch to screw with, so there was no viable way anyone could've gotten in.
No. Fucking. Way.
Of course, I never even bothered to call my dad because two seconds after Reed had mumbled something about putting an alarm system in and my sleepy mind had a Wait a minute moment, I saw through his crap. As my good friend, Dawn, was fond of saying, this man was lyin' like a rug in front of a fireplace. You just can't bullshit a bullshitter.
Today, Reed was especially quiet, for reasons known only to him. Guilt, one could only hope.
I folded my arms across my chest, glancing at the light bulb dangling overhead. ”I have a lead on your stolen artwork, Mr. Lancaster.”
He gave me a fleeting look. ”Oh?”
Oh? I'll give you your oh, you manipulative little shit.
”Yeah. Think I'm gonna head Downtown to check it out.” I paused, waiting for him to confess his sin. Nothing. ”I'm told that I should prepare for some hostility but hey, some of us girls enjoy the thrill of beating info out of people.”
Reed coughed. ”You really don't have to -”
”I do,” I told him, striding in his direction until he loomed over me and I could stare into his gorgeous lying eyes. ”Mr. Lancaster, someone broke into your house and violated your privacy. He or she stole from you. I just have to do my job and do this on your behalf.”
He swallowed, and I followed the slow bob of his Adam's apple. Dear God, even that was hot. I wasn't supposed to find anything sexy about him after the way he'd tried to make a complete fool of me, especially so soon after the impersonating fiasco. Fool me once, and all that.
”Lena, you really d-don't ¦have t-to...” He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes. They flew open. ”You don't have to do that. No one got hurt and I don't care about my stuff.”
”It'll be fun - for me, not the other party.” It was actually just a little sweet that he was obviously worried I'd get shot at. Just a little. ”But I think you'd better kiss me, just in case I don't make it back and whatnot.”
I was half-kidding, knowing that he wouldn't do it, that it wasn't in his nature to be so spontaneous and did I really want that temptation? Reed blinked repeatedly, his hands balled at his sides. I watched him clench and unclench his fists, as if he had to keep himself from touching me. I'd seen him totally naked, had him in my mouth, dry-humped him until we both came in our pants like a pair of teenagers - and yet he was scared to kiss me.
”Your brother paid for this to happen, didn't he?” Unwelcome bitterness laced my voice, and Reed's eyes narrowed.
”Don't. Don't say that.”
And just like three days ago, a rush of adrenaline burst in my veins when he shocked the hairs up my neck by grabbing and pulling me to him.
Despite the fact that this was detrimental to the progress I'd made with my highly unprofessional puЅsy, I wound my arms around his neck, whimpering when I felt the steel of his Сock pressing into my abdomen. His arms circled my waist, one hand grasping my ass and the other coming up at the back of my head. He lowered his head and pressed his forehead to mine first, simply breathing heavily for a minute.
Lena Anosova did not do slow. I writhed in his embrace, impatient, and with the smallest of smiles, he angled his head to kiss me.
I had to wonder if Reed had done a little kissing before me because shit, he could kiss. His tongue sent tiny electric shocks along my lower lip before it slid into my mouth and tangled with mine, thrusting into me, fuСking into me. He groaned into my mouth, kneading my ass and my hands fell from the back of his head to return the favour, making him jump.
Firmest. Ass. Ever.
”Lena.” He bit my bottom lip on the 'N' and a spike of pleasure lanced through me.
I drew back, panting for air. Reed looked put out and that look made me want to stop screwing with him and just throw him down, small details, be damned.
I patted his chest, knowing I'd done the right thing by stopping. ”Well, now I know what to say to make you an animal. I gotta go.” I shivered. ”You have to let me go so I can go, Reed.”
”I-I'm sorry,” he muttered, looking horrified. He quickly released me as if I were a bag of cow dung. ”I apologise, Lena.”
He wouldn't meet my eye. Something about the way he was so nervous around me reminded me of a skittish horse I'd seen at a farm as a kid. It had been a great black stallion, towering over nine-year-old me, but it had been scared shitless of me. A farmhand had mentioned something about abuse and since I already knew what that was, I'd felt so sorry for the horse and promptly burst into tears - the last time I ever cried.
Reed was like that horse and I knew it was more than what had happened between us days ago.
Once he'd put some space between us, I waited a beat for him to tell me that there hadn't been any burglary; that he'd made the whole thing up to... I didn't know - one minute, he wanted to have sex with me; the next, he was running scared.
Instead, he went back to his painting, snatching a blindfold up and covering his eyes. Mumbling curses under my breath, I left him down there and went up to get changed.
I was two years overdue for a spa day.
***
Brenda hated my guts.
I had never had someone despise me so openly. Usually, they'd hate me behind my back, or pretend to be my friend and conveniently stab me there. However, this woman, who was closer to being three times my age, didn't bother to hide the fact that she hated me.
She cooked for Reed and made Margo - who already had a huge workload when it came to keeping this mansion clean - make my meals. That was cool with me, though, considering that she'd probably put rat poison in my food the first chance she got.
Oh, she didn't say that she wished she could shoot me with my gun and make it look like a suicide - but I wasn't blind and I wasn't born just last night in the woods.
Since I was never one to mince words - and since I was feeling pretty great after a few hours of being pampered at the Juliette Rivers Day Spa- I decided to get it out in the open. Conflict resolution, and all that good stuff. I was blaming my confrontational mood on the expensive white wine on tap at the spa and the fact that I was pissed at Reed and hungry for him at the same time, so my mind was all screwy and airhead-like.
A search of the entire house and a five-second conversation with Margo revealed that the elderly cook had retired for the day. Slightly disappointed that I wouldn't get my confrontation, I checked in on Reed in the basement before heading to my own room and flopping onto the bed.
Then, when I couldn't even really take a nap, I decided to call my friend, Dawn, who was always up for some girl talk even if I wasn't.
She answered on the first ring. ”Well, hey, Len. How's it hanging?”
”Not that great,” I admitted, absently raising my legs and admiring the pearly-pink of my toenails. So pretty. So not...me.
”Ah. Isn't it evil to wish for something bad to happen to your client?”
Dawn Reynolds knew me well. We went back as far as kindergarten and she knew how trigger-happy I could be. As a yoga teacher at the gym near my condo, she was more content with finding inner peace than shooting the shit out of stalkers and crazies.
”My client,” I began, ”is...an artist.”
”Like Lana Del Rey?”
”No, try Salvador Dali.”
”Oh, a guy painter. Have I heard of him? Is he cute? How old is he?”
”Pretty sure the last art piece you bought was a picture of Lana Del Rey's face superimposed onto the Mona Lisa,” I said, laughing at the memory of the so-called artwork. ”Reed Lancaster's paintings are so great because he was blind when he did them.”
”Was?”
Dawn wouldn't let it go, so I had to go into a long spiel about what I knew about him, leaving out the parts about walking in on him pleasuring himself and the oral. It felt like I'd be betraying Reed's trust, something that was strange to me because I was never reluctant to over-share.
”Fascinating stuff,” Dawn said when she thought I was done.
”But he's a virgin, Dee, and I still want to fuСk his brains out,” I couldn't stop myself from saying. ”Not only is it unethical for me to want him, I actually scare the guy. I'd feel like I was forcing myself on him if anything ever happened.”
Dawn was silent. Eerily silent. Then, ”I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on the Virgin Reed part. He told you?”
”It slipped out,” I said. She didn't have to know that it had ”slipped out” when I was on my knees in front of the guy, hungry for his c0ck.
”Does he have a big penis?”
”Dear Lord, Dee.” I glanced at the door. Felt the unbearable heat in my panties. Felt the way my Сlit was swelling at the memory. ”You know that old J-Lo and Ice Cube movie? About the snakes?”
”Get out. Anaconda?” she shrieked in my ear. ”Holy pigs in a blanket! Len, we do not exaggerate the peen. The peen is not a joke. The peen is sacred. Do. Not. Play. Around.”
”I'm being serious! This is why I hate calling you,” I joked, turning onto my stomach. ”We end up gabbing like two high school girls high on N'Sync music videos. Now we're suggesting that my client's manhood should be enshrined.”
”I need to live vicariously through you. You know this.” She let out a wistful sigh. ”You been drinking, hon?”
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see me. ”Spa day. You know how they ply you with champagne.”
”Thank God. Hope you did some landscaping down there. Dicks aren't bushwhackers, you know.”
I laughed. ”FuСk you, Dawn Reynolds. FuСk you.”
”So...” Dawn's voice turned sly. ”I bet your hands-off approach with this Reed guy isn't going too well.”
That was putting it mildly. Hell, today was a great example of how well it wasn't going.
Kiss me, in case I don't make it back? I had to cringe at that one and knew Dawn - or any of my other girlfriends - would laugh if they ever knew those words had come out of Lena Anosova's mouth.
It seemed as if I was having a harder time keeping my lust in check... Since the day in the basement... Since the day I'd had him in my mouth... Since I found out for sure that he was a virgin...
”I have no idea what you mean,” I told my friend. ”I need to go, Dee. Talk soon.”
I cut the call before her laughter could give me a headache.
***