Wet Work: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 9

  “I liked!”

  He led me in, and we were quickly seated. I’d eaten here several times and soon selected my entrée. “Thank you for calling me for lunch.”

  He shrugged then grinned. “It’s a bribe.”

  I smiled back, the darkness from this morning a distant memory. He was like a balm on my tortured soul. Whenever I’m in his presence, the darkness from my past couldn’t reach me. “A bribe? For what?”

  “To show me around.”

  “You don’t have to bribe me for that.” Hell, I’d bribe him to let me show him around. Having Pax on my arm would do my reputation at work good. I frowned. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “What do you mean? Of course you know my name.”

  “Pax? That’s your name?”

  He grinned, and I felt a tingle. He was so damn fuckable. “Pax is short for Paxton. Paxton Parker.” I couldn’t help but giggle then quickly choked it off out of fear of offending him. His easy grin became a full-on smile. “Now you know why I go by Pax. Paxton Parker sounds like the alter ego of some comic book superhero.” I loved his self-deprecating humor. He could be serious when he needed to be, but he could also be fun. “Is Leah your full name?”

  “Yeah. Leah Clauson Tennyson. Clauson was my mother’s maiden name.” And just like that, with the thought of Mom and home, the darkness slammed down around me. I struggled to throw it off, but the harder I pushed against it, the more tenacious it seemed to become.

  We ate, and I tried to hold up my end of the conversation, but it was a struggle. I hated feeling like this but I was powerless against the darkness, and even Pax’s calming influence wasn’t enough to drag me back out.

  Our meal finished, and we returned to OIMB. The bike ride helped, helped a lot, but I could still feel the darkness nibbling at the edges of my conscious. I showed him around the lab, and a little bit of the rest of the institute, but I was just going through the motions.

  My lab was at the back of the building, overlooking the ocean and the dock where the Institute’s boats were tied up. When we returned to the lab, he looked out the window at the surf as it rolled into the beach. I used to spend a lot of time staring out those windows, but not so much now, since not only could I see the dock and the ocean beyond, but also the area of the beach where… I shoved the thoughts away before they could drag me deeper into the darkness.

  “I need to go,” Pax said, and I could read the disappointment in his voice.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He came to me. “For what?”

  “For being a Debbie Downer.”

  I saw his jaw tighten as he gave his head a gentle shake. “You need to start letting this go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. You just have to do it. I don’t know what happened to you back in Indiana, but this has nothing to do with that. It was just a body. A shock. I’m sure. But it’s time to let it go.”

  “I can’t!” I cried, and I could feel the tears coming. I knew he was right and that he was trying to help me, but I couldn’t just turn it off like a switch. If I could, I would have long ago.

  He nodded then gave me a gentle kiss. “You can, but it’s only something you can do.”

  I nodded and fell into his embrace. He held me for a moment then stood me up on my feet again. “I have to go,” he said softly. He gave me another quick kiss, a smile, and a gentle touch on my cheek before he walked out.

  As the door swung slowly closed, I wondered if I would ever see him again.

  I worked for the rest of the day. The work was getting done, but the joy of it was missing. I was so fucked up. I knew Pax was right; I needed to let it go, but I couldn’t. It haunted me, as Indiana had haunted me, and that was six years ago. If I could let it go, I would.

  I finished my tasks and closed up the lab. Tomorrow I would be on the water, and that would give me a measure of peace. But that was tomorrow. I needed help now.

  I returned home, and I remembered last night. I smiled to myself, recalling the comfort I’d found in Pax’s arms. Without thinking, not wanting to give myself the opportunity to talk myself out of it, I dug my phone out of my purse and pressed redial.

  The phone purred in my ear. I was about to end the call when Pax answered. “Leah? You okay?”

  “Are you busy?” I asked.

  “I’m just finishing up with something. Why?”

  “Can I meet you?”

  He hesitated, and I took it as a no. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, trying to extricate myself. “I was…”

  I trailed off because I had no idea what I would do instead. He was quiet for a moment longer, and I was considering ending the call when he spoke again.

  “No, it’s okay. Why don’t I meet you somewhere? Or you can come here?”

  “Where’s here?”

  “My apartment.”

  I didn’t hesitate. “If that’s okay?”

  “No, that would be great.” He gave me the address as I told him to wait while I found a notepad and pen and scribbled it down.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I said then ended the call.

  I stood in my living room; phone in hand and wondering what the fuck I was doing. This wasn’t me!

  I shook myself and started to call Pax back and call everything off, but I wavered. I grabbed my temples in both hands, pressing hard, trying to squeeze the poison out of me, the phone digging into my skull on the right side hurting me so good. I slumped and went upstairs and changed into something different—lacy lingerie that was still left over from my “dirty days,” a top that showed off some cleavage, and pants so tight they looked painted on.

  I knew I was spiraling back into the same place I used to be, but I needed this. God, I sounded like an addict. I was relying on sex and alcohol to pull me through, and without my next fix, I wasn’t going to make it. I could feel my memories haunting me, hanging just over my shoulder, ready to drown me in darkness. And my drug, my answer, was a man that was nice to me. It was twisted and fucked up, but it was the reason I had to go and do it.

  I had to go and see him, just one more time, and after that, everything would be okay again. I just needed to get out of this slump by having him burn memories out of me with the heat of passion.

  I wasn’t addicted. I was just being logical. I was doing what I had to so I could survive, and right now, my survival depended on Pax.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When my phone rang, I expected it to be Butch. Things weren’t going the way I wanted. There was only one witness, and she was totally fucked up.

  I’d take her to lunch, and I was going to pump her for information, then use her as an in to find out what the cops knew about the body. I had her. I had her eating out of the palm of my fucking hand. She was ready to do anything for me. Then she told me her name, and I shut down. Her fucking name.

  After that, she had closed off. I’d tried to keep it going, tried to be charming and understanding, tried to draw her out, but she’d totally kicked me in the nuts. I had been this close, but now had nothing I could bring to the table and I was afraid my value to the club was being brought into question. I understood it, of course. If I was in charge, and someone else didn’t deliver, I would have been the same way about it. It was a problem, though, when I was the one on the chopping block.

  But it wasn’t Butch, and I relaxed for a moment… until I recognized the number. Leah.

  I wasn’t the type to cling to conventions. I was all for a woman calling the shots if she wanted it. Leah just didn’t seem like the kind of woman to do that. Everything about her screamed innocent, and she demanded respect. The fact that she was phoning me was out of place. Of course, that didn’t mean I was going to tell her no.

  I looked around my apartment after she hung up. It was a fucking train wreck. I had two piles of clothes in my bedroom; one for dirty clothes and one for clean. There were empty pizza boxes and takeout containers on my coffee table and empty beer bottles on the counters in the kitchen
and on the floor around the couch. I didn’t bring people home; I liked being anonymous in a way, letting them only see the person I wanted them to see. Cleaning was a waste of time that didn’t further my cash flow or my reputation.

  I hauled a trash bag full of takeout boxes to the dumpster and chucked them in, tossing another sack of the bottles into the recycling bin that squatted beside it. There was no time to do anything about the clothes in the bedroom, so I chucked them all into the closet floor and shut the door, then put the few dishes I’d used into the washer. The place wasn’t clean but looked better than before.

  My place wasn’t classy the way her place was, but I wasn’t a woman. Maybe I would be able to distract her from my apartment by getting down and dirty with her. God knew she was a wild cat in bed and I wanted to get into her pants again and again. Although, judging by how she sounded, I wasn’t sure that was going to happen. She’d sounded like she needed advice and a shoulder to cry on rather than a mind-blowing orgasm. Which was a damn shame, because I was particularly gifted at the latter.

  I could just picture what I would do to her. I wanted her body beneath mine, my cock between her legs. Or she could be poised over me, her hair on my chest or on my thighs. I could still conjure up the feel of her skin under my fingertips and the taste of her in my mouth.

  A knock on my door ripped me back to the present, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. My erection throbbed in my pants because of my fantasies, so I tugged at it, trying to make it less obvious. I needed to play the part—be the best friend that would listen to problems instead of the badass with a sex drive.

  I cleared my throat and opened the door.

  The girl that stood in front of me was not what I’d expected. I’d expected an emotional mess—someone that needed to cry about her problems. Someone that I was going to have to patch back together long enough for me to use.

  Instead, she was sex on a stick. Her breasts were practically begging me to free them from her shirt and the way her ass moved as she stepped inside made me throb. She smiled as she passed and I wanted her to use her red and luscious lips for things other than speaking.

  “Thanks for letting me come over,” she said. She stood in the middle of the room and looked at me with those eyes. I wanted all of her, and I wanted her now.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I shut the door, my voice a little hoarse.

  She swallowed and nodded. I was grateful she didn’t have any news to share with me because I wouldn’t have caught any of it. I wanted her body, not the information she could share. She took a step closer. Her pupils were dilated, and her lips were slightly parted. I let my eyes slide down the open neckline where the swells of her breasts moved up and down as she breathed. God, this was pure torture.

  “What?” she asked, and I forced myself to look her in the eye again.

  “Nothing.” Civil. I had to be civil. She was the game, not what she could give me. She smiled. It wasn’t the sweet, shy smile I’d seen on her before. This was a devilish smile; the kind of smile women used when they knew they were going to get exactly what they wanted. She put her hand on her neck under her hair and slid it slowly down, trailing her fingers over her own collar bone, down the line of her shirt and almost between her breasts before she dropped it again. It was a come on. She wanted me.

  At least, I hoped that was what she’d had in mind because she was pushing me over the edge and I wasn’t going to control myself for much longer. It wasn’t about whether I could or not. I didn’t want to.

  I have been prepared to give her a shoulder to cry on, but now I wanted to give her something else. We were stuck in a moment where time stood still, and we stared at each other. This was do or die. Either, I stepped toward her and took what I considered mine, or I turned away and treated her like the helpless victim instead of the sex bomb.

  She made the decision for me. She stepped up to me, her body pressed against mine, and kissed me. She clearly knew what she wanted and when she licked my lower lip, I took over. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and buried my fingers in her hair. I curled my hands into fists, keeping her right there where I wanted her. She moaned into my mouth, visibly turned on by me taking control.

  It was all I needed to hear.

  I let go of her hair with one hand and pushed my hand under her shirt. I wanted her. I wanted all of her. I found her breast, pulled the cup down and took her nipple between two fingers, pulling and tugging at it. I kneaded her breast, hard. It was a perfect size—fitting into my hand like she was made for me. I ground my hips against her, pressing my erection against her hips, telling her with my body what I wasn’t going to say in words.

  I was going to fuck her.

  I spun her around and pressed her against the closest wall. This wasn’t the first time I had her up against a wall. She lifted one leg as if it was automatic and I held her thigh, helping her keep it up. It was all dry sex with both of us still dressed, but the friction through my pants, when she rubbed her crotch against my cock, drove me crazy. My breathing was hard and erratic, matched by hers.

  I pulled her shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the floor. She wore a sexy lace bra. I understood why women did the whole sexy lingerie thing. It was so that I would want them more. It worked.

  I kissed and licked down her neck all the way down to her breast.

  I pulled both cups down and sucked on her nipples, licking and nibbling my way between the two. I glanced up at her. Her lips were parted, eyes closed, lost in what I was doing. I kissed further down her body, leaving a slick trail down her stomach. I pulled down her pants, and she wore a thong that matched her bra. She lifted her leg so that I could get rid of the pants altogether.

  I put my mouth over her womanhood, and she gasped. She was still wearing her thong, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel what I was doing. I moved my lips and my tongue against her until the material was soaked, more than it had been when I started.

  I hooked my fingers into the thong and pulled it down, exposing her. She was blonde downstairs as well, and it suited her. Everything about her was cute.

  I pushed my tongue in between her legs, sliding into her slit, and she opened them, lifting one again and throwing it over my shoulder. She tasted fantastic, a mixture of sweetness and lust, and I licked her and sucked on her clit until she was squirming and my cock throbbed painfully in my pants. I wanted to be inside of her, but I wasn’t done yet, not until she orgasmed.

  It was building, too. Her breathing became more and more irregular, and she squirmed against my mouth, her stomach muscles clenching, and her hands in my hair. Her hips undulated, and she shuddered.

  She was close now, right where I wanted her.

  I pushed my fingers inside of her, and that sent her over the edge. She cried out, grabbing onto my head and pulling me hard against her. I felt her muscles contract and release. When I glanced up her face was frozen in a silent scream for a second before she gasped again and her body curled forward.

  I let go of her and stood up. She was still wearing her bra. I unclasped it, and she was naked in front of me in all her glorious beauty. I had no prejudice. Women came in all shapes and sizes, and their sex was just as good no matter which way they came. But some women were just perfect, and Leah was one of those women. Her breasts and her ass balanced each other out perfectly, with a relatively flat stomach in the middle and those liquid blue eyes and parted lips to finish off the picture.

  I stared at her lips, put my hand behind her head and pulled her in for another kiss. My other hand fiddled with my buckle. I undid the buckle as well as the button, pulled the zipper down and only let go of her head to use my other hand to pull my pants down. My cock sprang free, hard and eager. Leah glanced down at it. I put my hand behind her neck and pressed down lightly, telling her what I wanted.

  She knelt, and I pulled my shirt off so that it wouldn’t be in her way. I stood there, almost completely naked, my pants bunched around my ankles, when she opened he
r mouth and took me in. She looked up at me, and it was the picture I’d been fantasizing about. Her big blue eyes were beautiful, the pupils dilated, as her lips stretched around my cock that was more than halfway into her mouth. I took a mental snapshot for later.

  She moved her head back and forth, mimicking sex. Her tongue was hot against my shaft and fuck she knew what she was doing. She rolled her tongue over the tip, around the shaft and back to the tip as she pumped her head back and forth. I’d wanted her to suck me off for a while, but at this rate, I was going to have to stop her and move on to sex if I wanted to save my load.

  I held out for as long as possible, but the image of her on her knees, sucking my cock, her breasts in the background swaying with her movement, was too much for me.

  I pulled back, and she released me with a pop.

  I took her hand and pulled her up. The couch was right there, but I wasn’t interested in walking around and getting on it. Instead, I spun her around so that her back was to me, put my hand on her hips to keep her in place and pushed her forward so that she was bent over. Her ass was a sight to behold. Beautiful and round. She didn’t protest my advances. I positioned myself behind her, and she put her hands on the back of the couch, supporting herself.