An Illicit Pursuit (23 page)

I dare glance at him, nervous about what he
must be thinking. He looks so beautiful and strong, despite the
deep worry lines creasing between his eyebrows. Did he hear my
conversation with Zach? Does he, too, think I dumped Zach for money
and fame?

Doesn’t Adam give you what you need? Or is
his expiration date approaching, too?

If Adam heard it, he’ll think I’m a whore,
changing men like changing clothes. I must make it right again; I
can’t bear the thought of Adam having the wrong impression of
me.

I slither to the opposite side of the bathtub
with the faucet to rinse my hair, and let Adam get a view of my
naked breasts, then swim back to his side. “I’m sorry you found out
about Zach this way. I had no idea you knew him.”

His eyes don’t budge from mine, not even for
a short glimpse at my water-dripping breasts. This is bad!

“Do you still have feelings for him?” His
expression is of a murderer, and I, for the first time in his
presence, feel fear sneaking into my heart. “Do you still love
him?”

“Oh, god. No,” I lie, because there’s no way
to keep Adam by my side if I tell the truth. Possessiveness is
written in his DNA, and he won’t share his woman with another man,
even if it’s only emotionally. “I’m only yours with my body and
heart.” I move my hand toward his and run my fingers on the back of
his hand, before grabbing it to pull it against my chest. “I’m only
yours,” I repeat and ease his hand down over my left breast then to
the other one and wait for him to take over.

Only, he doesn’t. He stares at me without
blinking, his thoughts hidden behind the curtain of his glaring
eyes, and yanks his hand away from me as if he touched burning
charcoals. He’s never turned me down before, never when I clearly
needed his closeness. Pain fills my chest, freezes my insides. Did
he see through my lie?

“Adam!”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Just come beside me and hold me
close,” I beg, struggling to push back my tears.

I move to make space for him. He stands on
his feet, gazing down at the water, then at me, his palms fisted,
his body stiff, but his expression doesn’t convey anything. In
fact, his eyes look dull and distant, without the constant flame
he’s had only for me. As though I’m part of the water and the
bathtub and not his girlfriend. Not the woman he loves.

I lift my hand and open my palm toward him,
willing him to place his hand on it. He shakes his head
apologetically, spins around, and leaves without saying anything.
My jaw drops with shock, and I feel fear gripping my heart. But
this is a different kind of fear.

Fear that I might lose Adam for good.

Fear that I might lose it all.

What the serious fuck is wrong with me? How
could I deny Pat when she needed me so desperately? And worse, she
must be thinking I’m punishing her for having that ass of Zachary
Schulberg as her ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t have been happier to find
out Zachary, among all jerks, was the one who lost his girl to
me.

I shouldn’t have followed her request and
instead stayed with her before Zachary could hurt her with his
poisonous tongue. Pat being into money and fame? Huh. I’d have
laughed my brains out if she wasn’t in there, crying. Fuck!

Why can’t I just go in there and give her
what she needs? Stroke her hair, kiss her lips, make sweet love to
her, give her the assurance that she has me and I still love
her.

I’m the worst kind of creature for thinking
about another woman when my girl needs me most. Why did Taylor have
to cross my path? What’s wrong with me that I’ve turned to a sexual
maniac within seconds of laying my eyes on her? My cock is
throbbing hard beneath my jeans, demanding that I locate Taylor,
taste her pussy, and coat her insides with my load.

She’s Jack’s girl, for God’s sake.

I walk into the closet to hide myself,
because my cock won’t give me a rest if I don’t jerk off right away
and I can’t risk getting caught by Pat. With the lights off, I
unbutton and unzip my jeans and retrieve my cock into my palm,
resting back against the door for support. Knowing Pat is only a
few steps away, ready and willing to give me the release I need,
does nothing to my stubborn cock. Shit, even grabbing her bare
breasts didn’t budge it into obedience.

All my mind can ponder right now is the
depraved images of Taylor. Her milky white skin, the round top of
her breasts, her curvy hips. How her body moved tantalizingly in
that thin fabric of her dress. Her lips sucking Jack’s tongue.

Fuck, it should have been me she was sucking.
My lips, my tongue, my cock.

I stroke my cock up and down, smearing the
generously flowing pre-cum all around.

Tension builds. My balls ache with the
burning fantasies of Taylor’s long legs around my hips, her breasts
bouncing with my thrusts, her plump lips crashed, bruised under my
own lips. Her ass, god, her ass. It’s a miracle I could hold myself
throughout the lunch and not corner her in the restroom and bury
myself inside her.

I’ve never in my life objectified women, not
to mention never, ever, fantasized about raping one. I’ve got four
sisters for God’s sake, and I’d become a murderer without blinking
if a man touched them the wrong way. But, here I am, fantasizing
about the wicked things I want to do to Taylor.

What would she do if I’d surprised her in the
restroom, doors locked, nowhere to run away? I’d pin her against
the wall, push her legs apart, rip her panties, and just shove my
cock into her sweet pussy. She’d likely scream and beg me to
stop.

I’m a monster for thinking about an innocent
girl that way. But, those lips, those seducing eyes, and the way
she ran her fingers across my palm as she shook my hand? She’s
nothing but innocent. And I should have done it anyway when I
could, then I wouldn’t be obsessed about her now. My mind wouldn’t
exaggerate her beauty or the appeal of her body.

I squeeze my pulsating cock harder, imagining
how tight and wet she must be down there. Once I’m inside her,
she’d beg me to finish her off and cry out until everyone in the
restaurant knows she’s being fucked.

By me.

My heart is beating too fast, and I stroke
myself faster. My body stiffens as my cock erupts, shooting out a
couple spurts of thick load. That semen should have been inside
Taylor, leaking out of her pussy. I take off my shirt to clean up
the mess and dump it into the laundry basket.

I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Every man
is entitled to one or two hand jobs after encountering a beautiful
woman. Nothing is wrong with that. Just a biological reaction.

I put on a clean t-shirt and change into
sweat pants. As much as I’d like to head out to fresh air and
forget all about the lunch, I have to stay and make things right
with Pat. I wait until she comes in, wrapped in a pink bathrobe,
her hair wet and sticking to her scalp. Her eyes are still red, and
I’m pretty sure she cried after I’d left her in the bathroom.

“Pat, love. I’m sorry.” I grab her waist and
pull her in for a kiss. It’s not just meant to calm her down but to
remind me to whom my heart belongs. I linger on her lower lips,
sucking it gently and licking until she opens for me. She does, and
I should savor her warmth and sweetness, but all I can think about
is the deep, penetrating kiss Taylor gave to Jack earlier.

My mind disgusts me; my obvious betrayal
makes me want to punch myself. I draw away before our tongues can
touch.

She reaches for my hands and drags me to the
bed. “I have to tell you something.” The hard note in her voice
hasn’t escaped me. “I’m gonna have to fly tonight.”

“What?”

“There’s been a change in the plans. Xavier,
the director, is ready for shooting, starting from early morning
tomorrow. They arranged the company’s private jet for me. I’m
leaving in two hours.”

WTF!
She can’t leave me alone with my
depraved thoughts about another woman.

“Come with me,” she pleads.

“I wish I could.”
I really do.

“How about next weekend?” She looks at me as
though this is the last time she’s going to see me.

Impossible.
“I will try.”

“Oh, Adam.” She closes the distance between
us and slips her arms around my waist, placing her head on my
chest. She’s right there where she belongs, in my arms, close to my
heart. Yet, something has changed. Something tangible enough for me
to realize Pat’s touches, her sweet smell, and her curves pressed
against the length of my body aren’t anymore the enthralling jolts
of electricity on my skin that send wakeup calls directly to my
penis. “I don’t want to part like this, without fixing what’s gone
wrong between us.”

“We aren’t parting.” I kiss the top of her
head. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

She tilts her head back, her eyes evaluating
me, perhaps for my honesty. “Are we good?”

I nod, because I can’t lie more than I
already have, and dip in to kiss her lips. She opens her mouth
while I go for a small peck. Our noses crash, and we end up giving
each other a brief, awkward kiss. There’s no denying it.
Something’s really off, both from my side and hers.

Nora comes in and urges Pat to hurry up. I
watch Pat as she drops her bathrobe and slides into a long, blue
summer dress. Her nakedness does nothing to me, doesn’t even prompt
a brief twitch from my cock. And, it’s not because I jerked off a
few minutes ago. She’s always been able to arouse me, with clothes
or without.

If she had stayed the night, we could have
worked together on the unwillingness of my cock, maybe with a
sensual massage or a blow job, but we could have worked it out.
I’ll have to wait until the next time we see each other to bring
back the fire between us. But, with the heavy workload I have to
deal with the next few weeks, I have no idea when I’ll get a chance
to visit her.

Since Pat has gone, I haven’t been doing
anything except eating, sleeping, and working. I have three major
meetings lined up for the upcoming two days and hardly enough time
to prepare for them. My laptop in one hand, a stack of papers in
the other, I enter a café and settle down at the first table on my
way. A young, blonde waitress comes to take my order of hamburger
and fries and moves on to the next table with customers. I open up
my laptop, type my password, and scan around while waiting for the
computer to boot up.

A pair of long, shapely legs grabs my
attention, and I turn my head fully in their direction to
appreciate the exceptional view and the eager twitching of my cock
beneath my slacks. A rare occurrence since I met Taylor a week ago,
because my cock seems to ignore the existence of all the other
beautiful ladies around, including Pat, and I’m left with my bare
hands to jerk off the immense amount of sperm my fantasies about
Taylor is causing my body to produce. Well, up until now. Because
my cock seems to be caught up by another sexy lady.

I’m not some perv who breaks a neck to check
out every moving thing with a pussy, but I won’t deny my cock some
appetizing sight of a sensual girl. I shift my position to allow
more room for my cock to grow, while I study the slender legs from
the ankles up to the round buttocks. It’s a long away up, and my
cock stiffens as my eyes move up inch by inch on the smooth skin.
Hello beautiful lady and good-bye the foreign spell Taylor set on
me.

Pity that those sexy-as-hell legs are covered
with some brown, mid-thigh skirt.

From the looks of the two men at the table
across me ogling in the same direction, I’m not the only one
enjoying this arousing spectacle. Smiling, I turn back to my
computer and click on the spreadsheet I’ve been working on all
morning. With or without a hardening cock, I have to get this
report done before the day is over. Besides, I’ve never been a
cheater and won’t start being one now.

An enchanting, yet familiar laugh rips my
eyes away from the screen of my computer, and I turn toward its
source. My heart shoots up as I recognize the laugh is coming from
the owner of those beautiful legs. And she’s none other than
Taylor.

Shit and fuck and double shit!

Just when I was thinking I’ve come back to
being normal in terms of enjoying some random girl’s legs, they
turn out to belong to the root of my problem. Suddenly, all my
brain can register is the sheer rage I feel for the two men
eye-fucking Taylor and the man she’s talking and laughing with. I
push my chair back and stride toward Taylor’s direction, not caring
about my laptop and the highly confidential data stored in it.

“Hello Taylor,” I say softly and stand beside
her.

Her head swirls toward me, and her eyes land
on mine, first lacking recognition, then growing wide with joyful
sparks. And I can’t help but allow my insides to melt at the sight
of the rare, topaz blue of her eyes. And I realize it’s not her
long legs, or her round ass, or her smooth skin, or lush hair, not
even her firm balcony of breasts. But it’s her eyes. Those sky-blue
irises that transfused themselves into my soul the first day we
met, capturing me mercilessly, mesmerizing my existence to the
point of breakage, and still holding me imprisoned with no prospect
of a release.

What can I do but devote myself, my whole
being, to those eyes for the rest of my life, even if she doesn’t
and won’t give a damn shit about me?

“Hey, Adam. What an awesome coincidence!” Her
eyes sweep me up and down then land on my face. “Is your work
close-by?” She extends a hand toward me to shake, and I take it,
cautiously to not let her get into me for more than I can
handle.

“No.” I drop her hand and feel something tear
painfully inside me at the end of our brief connection. “I have a
meeting with a client two blocks away. How about you? What are you
doing here?”