Dirty Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 4) (4 page)

Chapter 8

We climb out of the tub. He wraps me in a towel,
then wraps one around his waist. “Go into the kitchen,” he commands.

I’m a little surprised, but only for a second. The man knows how to fuck. Whatever he has in mind, I’ve no doubt I’ll enjoy it. “Okay,” I say and turn away.

As I’m leaving, he rips the towel off me. I don’t turn back, but shake my ass suggestively as I walk: my fuck-me walk.

When I get into the kitchen, I’m not sure what to do, so I sit on one of the white plastic barstools pushed against the island in the kitchen.

Zane walks out a few minutes later. He’s carrying an oblong looking egg attached to a small cord. I know what it is and my pussy gets wet.

“What do you intend to do with that?” I ask
. I just want to play, to fuck for as long as possible.

He smiles. “You’ll see.” He sets it on the counter and helps me stand. “I’m going to lift you onto the counter. Lie down on your back. It’ll probably be a little cold.”

He puts his hands around my waist and lifts me onto the counter. I scoot towards the middle and lie down.

“Bend your knees, sweet Cadence.”

I rest my feet on the counter so my knees are bent and hold them together. He growls softly and pushes them open. I let my legs fall to the sides. The lips of my pussy spread wide. For him.

Zane slides a finger inside. Pulls it out. “So fucking wet.” He picks up the egg and presses it into my ass. It slides in easily. Then he turns it on. The vibration is intense and I rock my head from side to side. “Fuck, Zane. That feels good. Where’s the pain? I want it.”

He opens one of the kitchen draws and pulls out a nipple clamp. Then another. As he clamps them on the pain is intense, but good. Then he turns me so that my pussy is at the edge of the counter. Slides two fingers inside and brushes his fingers against my walls.

I moan at the intense pleasure. He pulls out and opens the refri
gerator. I’m intrigued. He pulls out a cucumber, goes to the sink and washes it, then brings it over. It’s a big one. Thick, though not as thick as his hardened cock.

“What do you intend to do with that?” I lean on my elbows.

Zane kisses my stomach. “I’m going to fuck you with this. I want to watch it go in and out until you come.”

I raise an eyebrow, willing to try anything once.

Zane leans forward and presses the cucumber inside. The feeling is odd.
The cucumber is kind of cold, but it doesn’t feel bad. Not bad at all.

Zane slowly drags it in and out
, his eyes focused on what he’s doing. He rubs my clit with his thumb. “I’m going to make you come so many times you’ll beg me to stop.”

That seem
s highly unlikely, but God it feels good. I moan, close to coming. “I’d like to see you try,” I whisper between clenched teeth. The feeling is so intense and fucking amazing. I throw my head back as my orgasm explodes.

“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Zane doesn’t slow his pace, pushing the cucumber deeper inside my pussy. He kisses my clit, suckles it, and pulls it into his mouth.

“Holy God, Zane.”

Instead of my orgasm dying off, it intensifies, and I feel like I’m going to come again.

Just as I’m about to, he pulls the cucumber out and sticks his tongue inside my pussy. I shudder all over his tongue.

But he still doesn’t stop.

He removes one of the nipple clamps and takes it into his mouth, his fingers move in and out of my pussy.

“Oh God, Zane. Please, don’t stop.”

I feel his smile against my breast as he removes the other clamp and takes that breast into his mouth. Just as I’m about to come, he rips the vibrating egg from my ass and flips me onto my stomach. My big toes barely touch the floor. He pulls out a leather strap, spreads my legs and slaps my pussy with it.

The sensation is amazing. “Fuck, I’m going to come,” I moan, shocked that he’s wreaking such intense, delicious torture on my body. He slaps my pussy again. And just as my orgasm crests, he shoves his cock into me.

“Cadence. Sweet Cadence. I could fuck you forever.” He rocks into me over and over.
Faster and faster. His hands are on my waist.

I moan, beyond spent, but my body is still anxious for him. His body tenses, and I know his orgasm is close. But at the last minute, he pulls out, gently turns me so that we’re facing each other, and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me tenderly and slowly slides into my pussy. Once. Twice. And then he comes. He kisses my chin, my cheeks,
my lips.

“How do you feel? Want more?”

The truth is I do. But I don’t know that my body could handle it.

He kisses the area between my breasts. “Let’s take a shower.”

I nod. And he growls.

“A shower sounds good,” I say, barely able to keep my eyes open.

Chapter 9

After a shower, Zane tucks me into the huge bed and I fall asleep immediately. When I wake, it’s morning. Zane’s side has been used, but he isn’t there.

I
get ready, putting my hair in a loose bun and brushing mascara on my eyes. At the last minute I add some light pink gloss. I don’t do more just in case I’m supposed to be filming today. Zane didn’t tell me I was, but then we didn’t do much talking last night.

I decide to wear a dress. It isn’t exactly professional. It’s light pink, like a soft blush, with spaghetti straps and lace edging
along the neckline, emphasizing my cleavage. The material is soft, liquid, and it skims over my body like a cool hug. I pair it with a taupe ankle strap bootie. I like what I see in the mirror, but as I leave the closet, I grab a sweater wrap that’s the exact color of my shoes.
Just in case
, I think. Then I decide, what the hell, and switch out purses, too. I’ve only used one so far and there’s a matching clutch amongst all the others.

Then I head out of the bedroom. I’m starving.

Zane is sitting on one of the dining chairs eating. He’s wearing black pants, matching shoes, and a gray button-down shirt. His sandy blond hair is perfectly mussed, yet out of his face. My first instinct is to run my hands through it. But I resist.

Seeing him still here surprises me. Usually he’s gone.

He must hears me come in and he turns, a smile lifting his lips.

I’m taken aback. He’s really gorgeous. Not in a “hottest man on the planet
” kind of way, like John Cruze, but in a man’s man kind of way. Zane’s eyebrows are trimmed, but thicker than John’s. His lips are fuller. Zane doesn’t have a dimple, but when he smiles his face is perfect. And his eyes? They’re piercing. He’s a man full of confidence. One who might be shady, but there’s no doubt he knows what he wants and how to get it.

I can’t help but wonder
: if the tables were turned and it’d been Zane who’d fucked me in front of the cameras yesterday, how would he have reacted? Would he have apologized like John did? Would he have done anything but take what he wanted and enjoy every fucking minute of it?

I knew the answer
.

“Hi,” I say as I walk toward Zane.

His eyes take me in and linger on my cleavage. “You look exquisite.”

“Thanks. Whoever picked out my clothes has great taste.” I sit in the chair he holds out for me. “Thank you for them, by the way.”

He waves his hand. “You’re welcome.” He puts a piece of toast and some scrambled egg on a plate. “Fruit?”

“Yes, please.”

He scoops some purple grapes, strawberries, and mango into a small bowl. “Orange juice?”

“Yes,” I answer
, unable to take my eyes from him. He seems different somehow, more relaxed, and I wonder what’s changed.

“There you go. Eat up.”

I pick up my fork. “I will. Thank you.” I stab a grape and pop it into my mouth. The flavor fills my mouth and I sigh. “It’s good.”

Zane chuckles. “You keep eating like that and I might have to fuck you first thing this morning.”

My thighs quiver and I’m instantly wet. I raise an eyebrow, challenging him, then fork a piece of mango and slide it into my mouth, sucking on it as it goes in.

He growls softly. “You’re asking for it, sweet Cadence.”

“I want it, Zane,” I whisper.

He
sets down the paper he’s just picked up and pushes back his chair. Stands in front of me. I start to undo his belt when there’s a knock at the door.

Zane touches my cheek with the palm of his hand. “
Raincheck?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I say and smile.

He laughs. “You’d better hurry and finish eating. Lincoln’s here to take us to the office. You’ve got work to do, PFA.”

I don’t hesitate because I’m
famished. I take a bite of egg. Zane crosses the room and opens the door for Lincoln.

“Mr. Zane. Are you ready to go?”

“As soon as Cadence is finished eating,” Zane says, patting Lincoln on the arm.

“Would you like me to wait here or in the car?”

“Here’s fine. We shouldn’t be too long.”

Lincoln closes the door and then stands next to it. He
wears the same outfit every day; the only change is his tie. Nothing dramatic. Always dark colors. Like today, his tie is a charcoal gray. He’s removed his aviators and has them in his breast pocket. His expression is the usual—stoic.

“Hi
, Lincoln,” I say and wave.

“Hello,
Cadence,” he responds, his lips barely moving.

I push out my lower lip, but don’t say anything. Instead I shove another bite of food in my mouth.

Zane has gone over to the counter and is rustling papers. I don’t focus on him, but my food. I take a bite of toast. It’s buttery and delicious.

After two more bites, I stand.

“You finished?” Zane asks. He looks wary. “You need to make sure you’re getting enough to eat.”

“Yep. I’ll just be a moment. I need to brush my teeth.”

Chapter 10

In the limo, I
lean back against the seat. Zane is still going through paperwork and I wonder what’s so important.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He stacks the papers and puts them in his briefcase. “Working.”

“Will you tell me about my brother?” It’s a question that I can’t resist asking.

He heaves a deep breath. “What do you want to know?” His features are guarded and I know I need to be careful.

“You k
now where my brother is?”

He blinks. “Yes.”

“And you’ll hurt him…” The rest of the question dies on my lips as tears spring into my eyes. I quickly brush them away. Travis is my blood, but we haven’t been close in a long time.

Zane’s
face softens. “He’s already hurting.”

The answer sends me into a tailspin. “Where is he? Why is he hurting?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Why are you so interested? From what I understand, you two haven’t spoken in years.”

I’m
suddenly defensive. It sounds like he’s talked to Travis. What did they say to each other? “You’ve spoken to him?”

“Of course.” He responds like I should’ve known the answer to that question already.

“Well what did he say? Where is he? Why’s he hurting?” The questions tumble from my lips faster than I can consider them. I gave up on Travis because he walked out and I had no idea where he was. “Did he tell you that the last time we saw each other he tried to set me on fire?”

A dark look crosses Zane’s face and is gone. “No. We’ve mostly discussed memories of when he was younger.”

For some reason my face flushes with embarrassment. “He told you about us… about my mom and dad… about what happened?”

Zane leans back. “We’ve talked in length about his childhood and yours as well.”

“Where is he, you son of a bitch? What have you done to him?” The current of anger and fear that flashes through me is so intense I can’t control it. All I can think is that he’s got Travis locked away somewhere and that he’s hurting him, torturing him. “He’s been through enough! How dare you hurt him!” I lunge at Zane, punching his chest, tearing at his shirt.

Zane grabs hold of my wrists. He’s strong.
Too strong. “I haven’t hurt your brother. He’s safe.” His words bite through me and as quickly as the anger appeared, it vanishes.

I sink into his chest and cry like a fucking baby. “God, Zane. Don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.” I’m still pounding on his chest, but there’s no force behind each blow. “I swear I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt my brother.”
Sobs wrack my body. Pain I’ve been holding deep inside for years comes out of me like a torrential rain.

Zane pulls me to him. “
Shhhh. Hush. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

I
claw at his shirt, cry into his chest. I can’t stop. Now that I’ve started I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to. The dam has broken, the floodgates have been blown to pieces, and all that’s left are tears. I cry. For every fucking time my parents hurt me, every time they ignored me, left me to fend for myself, yelled hateful words at me. I cry for my father’s cowardice, for taking his life when he should’ve lived it and taught me how to live. I cry for my mother. She pushed me from her body and kept on pushing. I never felt even the tiniest inkling of love, a moment where I believed she cared about me. And I cry for my brother, because even after my mom realized she didn’t want me, she still chose to have another child. And he was unwanted too. I cry for his suffering, for every wasted second of his life. And mine.

I cry and cry and cry.

I hear Lincoln and Zane talking, but I’m too far gone in my mourning to understand. Too fucking wrapped up in the pain to break free.

And I’m suddenly being carried.
Zane’s arms cradling me. I hear him huffing as he walks quickly up a set of stairs. The door closes softly behind us.

I stop
crying. “Where are we?” I ask, so softly I wonder if he can hear me.

Zane looks down at me. His eyes are filled with tender worry.

“We’re home,” he answers.

I close my eyes. “Okay.”