Tryst

“I understand.” I nod.

“She likes you, Heidi. She cares for you. And knowing what you’re doing—after all she’s been through—would hurt her. You won’t hurt her. Got it?”

“I do.”

“Ok.” He scrubs a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. “If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it the right way. No sneaking behind Tucker’s back. I can . . . help you two devise a way to make this a safe and healthy situation for the both of you. But I need total and complete honesty. Understand? And he needs to be on board to trying whatever it takes. If he still can’t give you what you need, we can look at other options . . . including Ransom. But you have to try to make it work with your husband first, Heidi. Ok? Another dick will not solve your marital problems.”

“I know.” I nod. “I get it. And, yes, I will do whatever it takes. Whatever you want us to do. But I need to know . . . what’s the catch? I mean, I’d like to think we’re friends in some sick, twisted way when we’re not at each other’s throats, but why would you be willing to help me? What’s in it for you?”

He looks toward the bathroom, where water can still be heard pelting the glass door. The mangled sounds of Ally’s shower singing echoes against the tile.

“Because, like I said, she likes you. And you did something for me that could not have been easy. So consider this payback.”

Ah, yes. That I did.

A few months ago, shortly after Justice returned to Oasis, he needed a little favor. Evan, Ally’s ex and Justice’s half-brother, was on a smear campaign to ruin her reputation and expose personal information about Justice’s mother. We knew his hands were dirty, but no one knew just how dirty they were. So I made a few calls, and some people took a few pictures of Evan in a few compromising situations. I mean, no one made him pop the molly or snort the coke. We just ensured that when he did it, there was photographic evidence. And we may have brought a couple friends that posed in those photos once he passed out. And those friends may have been transvestite prostitutes.

Ally never found out and, of course, those photos never saw the light of day. Once his eyes fell on the contents of the manila file folder that happened to show up on his desk at work, Evan shut the fuck up. He also accelerated his descent down the rabbit hole, and he hasn’t been able to climb out since.

Part of me should feel bad for contributing to his self-destruction, but I don’t. Evan Carr was, and is, a piece of shit. And it’s only appropriate that shit be properly disposed of.

I don’t know why I say it, but I thank Justice. What he’s offering is so unconventional that if someone were to overhear our conversation, they’d think we were both certifiable. But right now, I feel like he’s thrown me a lifeline. He’s willing to save my life.

We say goodbye before Ally comes back out to the living room. If she saw I was still there, she’d lay on the guilt and beg us to come over for di

“Promise me you won’t do anything with him until we try, OK? Promise me that.”

By him he means Ransom. He’s asking me not to cheat on my husband. How ludicrous does that sound? Still, I nod once, giving him my word. And I’m sincere. I don’t want to hurt my husband, but I know I’m more than capable of doing it.

He closes the door and returns to his happy life with his happy girlfriend. And I imagine that behind those doors, he’s happy too. I’m smiling to myself, imagining Justice Drake as the sweet, doting lover that relishes in lazy Sundays spent in bed and movie nights featuring the latest Nicholas Sparks flick. I bet he even cries when he’s with her.

I’m so wrapped up in my amused reverie that I don’t even notice that I’m being watched. Not just watched. Studied. Analyzed. Picked apart by blue, shrewd eyes that squint against the bright, hot sun, reading the story that I’ve just told.

Chapter Twenty-one

I do what I’ve been asked.

I try my hardest to stay away from Ransom. I do all I can to keep him at arm’s length. But that doesn’t mean he’s promised the same thing.

We finish our first day at Oasis without incident, all of us too exhausted from traveling to do much more than unpack and rest. The next, Tucker and I order di

You know that saying, “Birds of a feather flock together”? Well, if Justice was a particular species of bird, he’d obviously be a beautiful one, such as a peacock—proud and exotic. And Riku would be strutting right beside him, just as gorgeous and unattainable.

I met him when he was the sous chef for Oasis, but after things went south and Justice disappeared, Riku was one of the few who stuck around, holding out hope that he would return. He never gave up on him, even when JD gave up on himself. So it was only fitting that he make Riku, his only real friend and confidant outside of Ally, head chef and part owner of the new and improved Oasis.

“You know, I could get used to this,” Tucker says as I feed him a bite of the most incredible key lime pie I’ve ever tasted.

We’re in bed listening to soothing jazz from the bedside stereo, the confection positioned on a tray between us. Tuck picks up the small dessert fork and divvies off a portion to serve me. I take it gratefully, moaning around the cool metal between my lips.

“You shouldn’t do things like that,” my husband warns, his voice gravely.

“Do what?” I look up at him with hooded eyes and smile.

It only takes mere seconds before I am flat on my back and my panties are dangling from my foot. Tucker kisses me from the inside of my ankles to the tops of my thighs. And when I’m panting, begging him to touch me more, kiss me more, he spreads me wide and licks me slowly from front to back, savoring every slick part of me. I shake and squirm as he devours the first drops of fresh, warm wetness. And when that wave ends, another begins as he slides his swollen cock inside me with all the patience and control of a deranged serial killer. God, it’s maddening. How can he take it? How can he not be so ravenous for release that he just greedily takes me without regard for my comfort or safety?

I grip his ass, scoring the taut flesh with my fingernails, pulling him in closer, deeper. He groans into the crook of my neck, so I do it again and again, begging him with my body to join me in this realm of reckless abandon. Just let go, it whispers, its slick tongue trailing the shell of his ear. It’ll be ok. I promise you’ll like it.

He comes hard, quicker than I expect. He grunts in my ear as if the sheer violence of the act pains him. My body cools underneath him, rigid and still, as he empties his demise inside my womb.

“Oh,” he groans, kissing my neck. “That snuck up on me. Sorry, baby.”

“It’s ok,” I lie. I shouldn’t be upset, considering that he licked me to orgasm beforehand, but I’m a selfish bitch. I wanted him to take me. I wanted him to claim me. And he failed.

“Seriously, give me half an hour, and I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” He pulls out of me and rolls onto his back, his chest heaving with exhaustion.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s been a while, and you’ve had such a hard week. You needed that.” I say the words, knowing they’re true, but I don’t mean them. I wish like hell that I did though.

He kisses my face once more and closes his eyes. Within minutes, he’s snoring softly, his softening cock still glistening with my wetness.