Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 (42 page)

Grasping my face between her tiny little hands, she rises up, my cock pressing against her pelvis, following a trail down. Her eyes searching mine, for what I’m not certain.

And then…

She eases down on me.

And…Warmth.

Incredible amounts of pressure, she is so tight. More so than any ass I’d stuck my dick in. It’s nearly too much, so unlike anything I’d ever felt, so overwhelming I am forced to close my eyes and rest my forehead against her chest.

Claire is in control, riding up and down on my cock, her rhythm isn’t established, yet feels so amazing. Her breathing is steady, long pants on occasion. She isn’t vocal, screaming for me to fuck her harder, which is honestly a nice change. I returned my hands to her tits as something tells me this will bring her to the edge. Her jerky movements tell me I was correct, so I press harder, rolling her nipples between my fingers.

“Oh, yes…”

“R-right…”

Her orgasm hits her, I can feel it. She holds her breath as the final waves crash over her. One final thrust with her pelvis, as if seeking those last few spasms her body enjoys. When I’m certain she’s finished, I cradle her back and head. I refused to disturb the euphoria she is swimming in, the remnants of the pleasure she took from me, a gift I willingly gave and would, again and again.

I ease her back against the sheets, our bodies never separating as our position changes. I have to look at her. I need to watch her face as I slide in and out of her, feel her fingers as they caress my skin, her hips as they rise up to meet mine, and her calves as she wraps her slender legs around me.

Her thrusts are increasing, she is close again. I want this for her, which is another thing completely out of character for me. I’ve always been into sex for what I can get from it. This time, it’s different, so very different.

“Dylan…”

“Y-yes, baby.”

Her eyes tell me everything. With one final kiss, she arches into me and I fall, so goddamn hard I fall. What scares me the most isn’t the way I feel, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t feel this way too.

A
ll good is hard. All evil is easy. Dying, losing, cheating and mediocrity are easy. Stay away from easy

~Scott Alexander

B
eing bold has never been a quality I was blessed with. It’s one thing to fall into a leadership position with work, but taking control with Dylan felt natural. There were no jittery nerves or fear of feeling inadequate. Never once did I find myself questioning the number of women who had slept in his bed before me.

He allowed me to set the pace, which surprised me as I had always assumed by his personality he was a dominating person. With me, it’s as if he can be a different person, a softer version of himself. It was the softer side of him, which radiated through as he laid me back, eyes warm and touch gentle, he gave me exactly what I needed, no direction or guided tours. Everywhere he touched me felt beyond description.

In the wee hours of the morning, I felt him stir, reach over and check his cell phone, and then quietly replaced it on the night stand. I remained perfectly still, slightly afraid he would ask me to leave. Instead, he molded his body to mine. Something in me came to life, an almost carnal need for him. And just like the hours before, I took him in my hand, stroking him to life.

Feeling bold once again, I encouraged him to lie on his back, my lips following the planes of his chest, muscles flexing from the heat of my touch. Having such a powerful man conforming to my will was such a rush. I didn’t think as I descended on him, licking the rim first, and then sliding my tongue in the tiny slit. Shane never appreciated blowjobs, he was a get in and get out kind of guy.

But Dylan wasn’t Shane, there was no comparison, no reason to even try. This man, the one who had turned control over to me once again, ran his hands through my hair, the tips of his fingers appreciating the connection my lips made on his hardened cock. Letting me take my time as I savored him.

“Baby, c’mere,” his husky, wanton voice cut the silence of the room. His relinquish of control gone, as I found myself flat on my back with my knees in the air, the scruff of his growing facial hair scratching the inside of my thighs in sweet, sweet pain.

This was an avenue I’d never ventured down. No man had ever placed his face where Dylan had his tongue and fingers buried. Just as with my nipples, he sucked, lapped, and nibbled at every inch of skin he could. The crescendo, the moment when I swore I saw heaven, was when he flattened his tongue, running it from the bottom of my entrance to my swollen nub. He circled my clit three times before ending with that fucking magical tongue, playing hockey with my tonsils as his dick slid into me.

“Claire, you don’t look so good.”

It had been nearly a month since that magical night. Waking in the late afternoon the next day to Dylan once again between my thighs. I was gleefully satisfied after the many rounds we’d managed to consume. Being with him was like nothing I’d ever known existed.

It was also a one time event. Not because we had broken things off, the opposite actually. Dylan and his brother, Austin, had teamed up on a project. Nearly every night they had their heads together over a computer screen. He would text me silly things and sweet words, and every night before I would head to bed, he would call me, and tell me some of the things he would be doing to me if he could crawl in bed with me.

Last week, a nasty stomach bug reared its ugly head, infecting nearly half the city it seemed. This morning I woke up to not only a queasy stomach, but also my period.

“Funny, I don’t feel well either.” I admitted as the room began to spin.

Dr. Forrest, the new hot-shot doc around here. His presence had created quite a ruckus with the female staff. His sandy blonde hair and green eyes made more than a few nurse fan themselves.

He was also solely responsible for Dr. O’Leary being asked to resign, in reference to his conduct with the nursing staff. In a case of being at the right place at the right time, he was able to testify before the board what he’d witnessed.

McGuire’s went up for sale three days later. Rumor had it, the family had been experiencing some financial issues that they were counting on Megan’s family to help with once the new bride and groom had become established. With an annulment already signed and filed, the money tree had been cut down. Last week, when I went to visit Lainie, there was a foreclosure notice on the iron gates outside Sean’s condo.

As far as Dr. Forrest, he had his eyes set on a certain brown haired nurse. He and Shayla had their first date planned for this upcoming weekend, but she was scheduled to work and had been offering several people extra money to take her shift.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you something for the dizziness and the nausea which is sure to come,” he said feeling my forehead and the glands in my throat. “You call someone to pick you up, so you can sleep this off and be back to the charming girl we all know and love.”

My body wouldn’t allow me to argue as I tried calling Dylan. When his phone went directly to voicemail, I remembered he was going to pick up a part for an old motorcycle he and Austin were restoring. He’d warned me earlier he didn’t think he would be in cell phone range until late. Lainie was still away on business, which left me to try and call Carson. However, his phone also went to voicemail.

“I can give you a ride,” Shayla offered. It was time for her break and I only lived a short drive away. She needed to grab something to eat and her favorite sub place was a short detour on the way.

Shayla drove a massive black truck. With the issue of the streets flooding with the rain storms, she preferred the height the truck gave her. Even though it was a bitch to climb into, I couldn’t agree with her more.

“So I have to ask,” she hesitated while pulling out of the parking lot. “Are things really good with Dylan?”

Her question wasn’t entirely unexpected, she did after all have, at least on some level, a relationship with him. “It is. I’ve even had the meet the family dinner, although it was one of his brother’s guests who was nearly asked to leave.”

Austin called Dylan the evening after our night together and told him he had discovered something about Harmony and wanted to talk with him. Not twenty minutes later, Priscilla called, but Dylan didn’t mention what she said.

“Really? Meeting the ‘rents already?” Her surprise wasn’t lost on me. I didn’t want to say too much, though, her wounds could still be open, even if she was attempting to move on.

“Well, shit!” She cursed, flicking on her signal. I looked from her to the road ahead. Red and blue lights flashed, three vehicles rested in the center of the intersection, the one we needed to turn down. “Looks like I’ll be busy when I get back from lunch.” An ambulance was pulling away as she made her left turn. I prayed no one suffered any major injuries.

I’d never driven down this particular street, shops and restaurants packed both sides. We passed one of the city’s many parks as she continued to head west. Once I felt better, I would have to venture down here, wander around some of the older shops and see what treasures they held.

We had been waiting at a busy intersection, waiting for the car in front of us to turn left when I noticed movement to my left. I blinked my eyes a few times; confident it was my medication creating an illusion. Shayla was talking about something in the back window of the car, but the sight before my eyes captured all of my attention.

Mickey’s and Millie’s Bar and Grill, was in gold lettering against the black marquee. With glass windows on two sides, patrons inside were easily visible. Standing just at the corner of the building, with his hands cupping the face of a nameless blonde, was Dylan. Their conversation was serious as his lips moved rapidly, while she nodded her head as her hands gripped his forearms. Her long hair danced in the breeze, her slender legs ending in mile high heels.

I now understood the late nights and his warnings to not try and call him. It had nothing to do with a motorcycle part, but his cowardice to admit to me he had indeed, as Shayla had warned, grown tired of this vanilla life.

Shayla made sure I opened my door and got into the elevator before she pulled away from the curb. What measure would I need to take to forget about him like she did?

My phone rang midday the next morning, Dylan’s smiling face flashing across my screen. My anger was still too much to have a productive conversation, one which would come as soon as I was able to wrap up my emotions in a nice little bow and toss them in a drawer for safekeeping.

In the early evening, my security buzzer lit up, I knew it was him without looking. I still wasn’t ready to say what needed to be said, so I sat in the darkness of my apartment, shades drawn and in the middle of my Egyptian cotton sheets, grateful our one night had been in his bed and not mine.

Just after seven the next morning, I phoned Shayla and offered to take her shift so she could enjoy her date with Dr. Forrest. Dylan’s calls continued to go unanswered, his text messages unread.

Now, I had taken on the role of the chicken shit, avoidance becoming my best friend. But by the third day, my anger had turned to determination. I had to talk with someone, to confide in someone about his betrayal and somehow make him own it.