Sweet Seduction Sabotage (5 page)

Mile high club, he'd said. And although we couldn't get to the tip of the Sky Tower antenna at three hundred odd metres high, we could enjoy this height, at least.

"Kelly," he breathed above me, my name said in a way he'd never said it before. It made me pause, but then his hips jerked, sinking himself deeper in my mouth, and all thought was lost as I made him lose his ever loving mind.

He bucked, he swore softly, but he never screamed or cried out too loud. The heat of his release made me whimper, his hands leaving sweaty marks against the windows at his sides. He hadn't grabbed my head again, he'd let me lead, let me direct, let me control. He'd just gone along for the wild ride.

When I pulled back and wiped at the saliva around my mouth with a hand he was panting. His eyes a darker grey than I'd ever seen before. He gingerly stood up and away from the angled window pane as he dealt with the used condom, then looked at what had supported him moments before over his shoulder, running a hand through his short, black-brown hair.

"Fuck," he said under his breath. "I am monumentally glad not to be leaning against that any more."

"But yet you still came," I pointed out. And, man, did he come.

"You bring out the adventurer in me."

We stared at each other, his trousers still around his ankles, his cock glistening in the lights of the room. It lengthened again under my gaze. I wasn't surprised. Our liaisons may have been quick and furtive in the past, but he'd always left me with a semi-rigid cock. As though readying himself for round two, even though he'd inevitably deny us both that pleasure.

Tonight was the first time we'd contemplated more than one fuck.

"Are you wearing underwear?" he asked, voice a husky rasp.

I nodded.

"Take them off."

I kept my eyes on his as I reached beneath my skirt and slipped my thong down my thighs, lifting one knee and then the next to get the garment off. He held out his palm, pocketing my knickers in his jacket when I handed them over. I wasn't getting them back, I knew that now.

"I'm going to fuck you from behind, on your knees, so you can watch the people below watching you."

Oh, dear freaking God, I actually made a hungry sound at those words. He chuckled, and walked slowly behind me. Heat washed down my spine, knowing his gaze was devouring my body right then. I still had a short skirt on and a tight blouse, I wasn't naked by any stretch, despite the lack of underwear right then. But I felt bare. I felt exposed. I felt a little raw by the time he stopped behind my arse.

He knelt down behind me, both of us on the glass, his hot hand ran over the curve of my butt cheek, over the material of my skirt. His other centred on my back and pushed me forward, making my hands come out and land flat on the glass. I noticed a sweaty mark spread out around my palm and fingers, like they had around his on the window pane.

My skirt got inched up painfully slowly, higher and higher up my thighs, until my arse was bared in all its naked glory. He stroked a heated hand over my skin, rubbing in a languid circle. His knees spread my thighs further apart, bringing himself close to my rear. I heard the condom wrapper, knew he was sheathing himself right then. My back arched in anticipation, my breaths quickened, my heart leapt into my throat.

He waited, longer than rolling on a condom should have taken. The delay was excruciating. I felt him lean forward, draping over my back, his hands came down either side of mine, his nose nestling into my hair at the nape of my neck.

His lips trailed up my sweaty skin and he whispered in my ear, "Open your eyes." How did he know I'd closed them? "Look below us." I blinked to bring the view so far beneath our perch into focus. "Your pussy is exposed. Your face could be seen when in the grip of pleasure. My cock watched as it slides in and fucks you hard."

Oh,
God
. I was on the edge already, sure I'd come just from his words alone, from the image he created in my mind. From the fact I was on all fours on a thin piece of reinforced glass metres and metres above a bustling Auckland street.

"Keep looking. Do not close your eyes. Watch them watching you."

A sound of desperation slipped from my lips, Drew didn't try to stop it. He seemed to want those on the other side of the particle board wall to hear. He came up from his lean over me, positioned himself at my entrance, then gripped my hips, holding me steady.

"Are your eyes open, Kelly?"

I nodded.

"Say the words."

"Yes," breathed from my parched lips.

A long, drawn out pause. I was going to kill him if he didn't fuck me soon.

"Red or black?" he whispered, his whole body held taut at my back.

"Red. Red. Red," I answered hungrily, despairingly, eagerly.

He shifted to enter, tightened his hold on my hips, then rasped, "Who am I?"

"Drew!" I cried.

"What colour are you?"

"Red, fuck it!"

Then finally,
finally
, he thrust forward as he pulled my hips back, and impaled me to the hilt.

I was alive. Feeling. Oh, fuck yeah,
I was feeling
. Drew was fucking me hard, holding my hips, pulling me back as he thrust forward again and again and again. He didn't let up, he was a man on a mission. My vision wavered, my head hung down as the sensations became too hard to hold up.

A smack on my bare butt cheek rang out in the deserted space we were in making me yelp - surely heard from the other side of the particle wall that separated us from all the people looking at Auckland from the Sky Tower's observation platform - then Drew demanded, voice husky and low, "Keep your eyes open!"

My eyelids flicked up and a glass floor beneath my hands greeted me. I whimpered, he fucked me harder. Sweat poured down my neck, into the collar of my blouse. His fingers were leaving bruises on my skin, his thighs slapping the back of my legs, his cock stretching me, filling me, making the world below us, behind the wall, around us, disappear.

I loved him for it.

I hated him for the addiction he fuelled in me.

I closed my eyes and in the next instant felt Drew's hand wrap around my throat, under my chin, bringing my face over my shoulder where his lips crushed into mine. He didn't alter his pace or the determined force with which he was taking me, but he drank my sounds of pleasure down, moaning into my mouth as though drinking a fine wine.

The change in angle made my body tighten, my legs tremble, and with a slow grind of his hips, such a sudden departure from the almost harsh-like rhythm of before, I shattered. Falling apart in his arms, making sounds he continued to stifle with his lips and tongue. When all that was left was a weak limbed body beneath him, he released my throat, shifted back to his knees, gripped my hips and let go.

I think Drew loses himself in me as much as I lose myself in him.

His pace picked up, his muted sounds of effort and pleasure increased, and his fingers flexed on my hips as his cock swelled, and with one final thrust deep inside, I felt him lose a part of himself as his release filled the condom up.

For a brief moment it made me wish he was filling
me
, that there were no more barriers between us. That it was just skin on skin. Drew and me. Like he made me feel, but we could never truly be.

Panting for breath he lay his head down on my back. My arms shook, my body shivered, and without warning I collapsed against the glass beneath us, making the air whoosh out of my lungs in a sudden and unexpected burst.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, louder than I was sure he intended. "Are you OK?" He pulled his body away from my back, giving me breathing space, but seemed unable to move further than that, and then toppled over to his side, down the length of my spent frame.

He started chuckling, which soon brought the giggles out in me.

Finally he whispered, hand stroking the damp curls off my face, "Thank fuck there's still some red in there."

Silence met that unguarded statement. I wasn't sure what to say. I stared into stunned and very sated grey, and watched as he held his breath waiting for me to reply.

"Yeah, well. You bring out the adventurer in me," was all I could lamely manage.

A slow breath of air was released through his lips. He blinked, and then moved to stand. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but something had. As if we'd crossed an unseen line, neither of us willing to admit it. I shook my head and slowly got to my feet, straightening my skirt while I was at it.

Drew was positioning himself behind his trousers, zipping them up and readjusting his shirt and tie. He didn't make eye contact, his jaw was locked hard.

This was good. It made it easier to do what I needed to do. I almost opened my mouth, then and there, to tell him it was over. I even licked my lips and sucked in a breath of air. And then he raised his head and soft, gentle grey stared back at me.

My mouth closed, the breath was released, and the words on the tip of my tongue were forgotten.

There'd be another time to break it off. I still had three other of my guys to cut loose. Matt was gone. Already it was easier to accept that. I was making progress, I was sure. Tomorrow was a right-off, the day planned to the nth degree. But maybe Monday I'd catch up with Dan. Leaving Spike and Kane, and then Drew.

My eyes flicked to his again, he was staring at me. Then he glanced down at his watch and took a deep breath.

"We better get a move on, security will be along soon."

"Won't they have gotten an eyeful through the cameras and already know we're here?"

I knew the answer before he gave it. I think I'd always known. Drew entertained my need for a potential audience, but I don't think he'd ever let it get so far that we were truly seen.

"What cameras?"

I dipped my head down to hide my smile as I followed him to the lift. For some reason that amused me.

From out of nowhere his fingers appeared beneath my chin and he raised my face so I could see him. His eyes scanned mine, my cheeks, my mouth, my neck, even dipping down as far as my breasts. But they returned to my eyes fairly quickly. There was something going on behind that grey. Some form of calculation or an effort to gain courage to say what was on his mind.

We stood like that for so long that the lift arrived, the soft chime of the doors opening breaking the stalemate. My head jerked back, I gazed into the elevator expecting to see lift-guy, but the box was bare. And when I looked back at Drew the moment - whatever it had been before - was gone.

He walked into the lift and waited for me to follow, then he pressed the button for the atrium floor. Neither of us spoke on the way down. It would have been easy to assume it was because we didn't usually hang around when the deed was done. This was new territory, post-coital talk not something we had ever engaged in before.

But I knew otherwise. The silence in the elevator had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with what he had wanted to say before.

Part of me, a part I have never allowed have free reign, desperately wanted to push him. To find out what was on his mind, what caused that turmoil behind his grey eyes. But if there was ever a time where that unrealistic romantic inside me should shut the fuck up, it was now. When I was trying to find myself. Trying to sort out the mess my life had become. Cutting my stable of men loose.

The door pinged and swished open and the busy, noisy atrium of Sky Tower emerged. We walked off the lift without a backwards glance and stopped, by some unknown agreement, next to the waterfall feature.

"Did you bring your car?" he asked, hands in his pockets, jacket spread wide. A usual Drew Kline stance.

"No, taxi."

"Would you like a lift?" This was strange and new, and a little uncomfortable. Drew and I had never spent long hours in each other's presence. We'd attended the same events, but the only interaction we'd ever had were heated looks, and then the illicit entanglement that inevitably followed.

I stood there, in that lively, colourful, noisy space, and realised another epiphany. I have never had a normal relationship with a man. Never.

I was so screwed up. This was my life; sex on the run, or on repeat but without any depth. The closest I came to normal was Abi's partner, Ben. He and I joked, but it was never sexual. He was, perhaps, my only male platonic friend. And only then because of Abi. There were other men in our circle, but I wasn't really close to them. Hell, even Gen's brother Jason, I'd tried at one stage to get into bed.

This was my life.

And - God help me - I didn't like it.

"I gotta go," I said, brushing sweaty palms over the tops of my thighs.

"Kelly," Drew called, breaking into my near panic.

I'd taken several steps away already, so had to turn back to face him. He was still standing beside the fountain, hands in pockets, grey staring me down.

I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for his next words. He stalled, stood there looking delectable, but unable to say whatever he'd planned to say before.

Finally, and I'll admit disappointingly, he murmured, "Take care." Then turned and walked towards the casino.

For a second I was furious. He'd stolen my moment of being the one to walk away. That emotion, though, was quickly followed by relief. What had he wanted to say? Would it have made everything so much harder than it already was?

This was for the best. It was already way too difficult.

I spent the entire taxi ride home trying not to dwell on the ever increasing fucked-up-ness that is my life. Which was made more difficult because of the lack of suitable underwear in a public transport vehicle. I shifted on the plastic covered seats, chewed on my bottom lip - something I do not do normally - and then substituted that with a fingernail.

I was so messed up inside. Part of me reliving the glass floor sex-capades with Drew at over two hundred metres high and feeling decidedly turned on by them. Another part, the
new
part, reminding me of last night. The lost hours. The semi-stranger video-store-guy.

I walked into my quiet and deserted flat, switched on my bedroom light and stared at my unmade bed. I surround myself with people. I have a fantastic group of friends. Hell, I have five - no four - men in my stable of bed partners.

Then why do I feel so alone?

I crawled beneath the covers, having simply shed my blouse, bra and skirt, and cuddled my spare pillow. It took a long time to drift off to sleep, and when I did my cheeks were wet with tears.

The alarm woke me. Sent me bolt upright in bed, heart in throat, chest heaving. I'd been having a dream. An old familiar dream. One I hadn't had in over fifteen years. It left me breathless. It left me shaking. It left a hole inside my body that I knew would be damn near impossible to fill.

Why was this all coming back now?

Shaking my head I threw the covers back and headed into the shower. Today was meant to be a happy day, I needed steaming hot water, a steaming hot coffee, and no more thoughts of steamy hot sex. How hard could it be?

Im-fucking-possible. That's how hard.

I turned up at Gen and Dom's just after ten. Early for me on a Sunday. Dominic answered the door, dressed in casual trousers, a polo shirt and his signature suck-all-available-air-out-of-the-room look. Gen was one lucky lady. But then, Dominic was pretty fortunate, too.

"I hope you haven't got anything too rigorous planned, Kelly," he said, stepping aside and allowing me to pass. I shuffled in, my arms laden with containers and bags.

In the next instant he'd taken them all and was leading the way down the hall.

"Who me?" I quipped, searching for old Kelly.
Red
Kelly in amongst the increasing black.

"She's tired today. Didn't sleep well," Dom pointed out.

"Then you shouldn't keep her up all night, Dom."

He glanced at me over his shoulder as he entered the lounge, giving me
that
look. The one I seem to always get when Dominic indulges me.

"Relax, lawyer-man. I've got sedate down to an art form."

He made his cough-like laugh and placed all the bags and boxes on the dining table attached to the kitchen itself.

"Where is our girl?" I asked, moving to start unpacking items.

"Finishing up in the shower. She's only just woken up. I'm about to make breakfast, care for some?"

"Why the hell not." Then added, "Is it pancakes?" I loved pancakes.

"It can be if you tell me what you have planned for today."

"It's a surprise," I announced.

"I won't tell," he retorted.

We stared at each other, neither willing to back down. But Dom has that whole lawyer patience thing going on, he could stand there all day, arms crossed over chest, glaring until I cracked. I was too damn disillusioned for this right now.

"OK. Some games, all sitting down and harmless, humorous ones. Lots of food and then non-alcoholic cocktails to finish it off. It's just a bridal shower Dom, nothing to get your boxers in a knot over."

"My boxers are not in a knot."

I snorted. "Dude, your boxers are bunched up and cutting off air as we speak."

He blinked, shook his head, and muttered, "How do they put up with you?"

I was so surprised, I said, before thinking, "Who?"

"Your posse of men."

Oh, crap. Dom never mentioned my stable. What had brought this on?

"They don't have to spend that long with me," I offered, trying for carefree and nonchalant, and failing miserably.

He didn't say anything, just started mixing up pancake batter, his back to me. I'd never felt uncomfortable talking about my lifestyle before. I am what I am, that was my motto.

I really wasn't so sure anymore.

Thankfully, all further uncomfortable conversation was avoided with the arrival of my best bud.

"Hey, Kels," Gen exclaimed, coming straight over and wrapping me up in a huge hug.

It took everything in me not to crack. Not to break down right then and there and tell her my problems. But today was not my day. It was Gen's. Her bridal shower, her moment to shine and be happy and look forward to only the good things that were about to happen in her life.