Dirty Ties Read online

  Collin watched me until the moment he thrust, his dark lashes lowering as his hips slammed against Seth’s backside. I hated when he did that, when he broke eye contact to focus on the body between us. At the same time, it would’ve been weird as fuck to stare into his eyes as we got off. That just wasn’t the nature of our relationship, and dwelling on it left me cold inside.

  With Seth’s entire focus on Collin now, my thoughts fled to a comforting place, forming images of Evader’s sculpted body moving over me, his kiss-swollen lips, and the vicious stretch of his arousal. I imagined him making love to my body with fire and ferocity, his concentration on me, on my pleasure, and nothing else.

  Collin’s head fell back. The tendons in his neck rose against his flushed skin, and his body jerked into another ruthless plunge. Then he fucked me the only way he could…with another man’s cock.

  The weight of both men ground against my pierced clit. I flexed my hips, working toward that glorious edge. All I could think about was satisfying the urgent need for release with a man I’d never met. Greedy as I was, maybe I could reach it more than once before they finished.

  Seth rose up, his back pressing against Collin’s front. Their mouths collided in a frantic clash of tongues, and the sudden intensity of Seth’s strokes propelled me to the cusp of orgasm. Collin pounded harder, each hard drive pushing Seth deeper inside me.

  Collin’s eyes squeezed shut. His body trembled. The pace of his pumping staggered, losing rhythm. He was close. So was I. We lunged together, pulled apart, ramming over and over. Three bodies rocked in sync, coaxing a blissful heat through my core.

  Sweat beaded over my skin. My pulse thundered past my ears, and my muscles tensed for the rush.

  On the next thrust, Seth fell out. Shit. I wriggled my hips, tried to nudge him back in, but he wasn’t hitting my opening. I reached down to guide him, and my fingers met a sagging condom. What the hell?

  I arched up and looked down my body. Seth’s cock lay against his leg, the condom clinging halfway off. Motherfuck.

  When I caught his eyes, he glanced away and worked the condom back in place.

  And they thought I was soft? Might’ve been humorous if I weren’t seconds away from kneeing him in the gay nuts. The fucking liar had banged me before without incident. But thinking on it, in the past I’d arrived after the foreplay. Perhaps the blow job had pushed him past his tolerance level?

  Collin stilled, his hand wrapping around Seth’s fingers, attempting to stroke him back to hardness. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Just give me a minute.” Seth looked everywhere but at me, his eyebrows lowering as he jerked on his deflated dick.

  I drew a deep breath, the awkwardness palpable, the mood soured. No need to ruin the night for Collin. I climbed to my knees and moved to their sides. With a palm on Collin’s cheek, I turned his head and kissed the cleft on his whiskered chin. “I’m gonna go.”

  His pale eyes turned to glass, and his hands gripped Seth’s hips as if to push him away.

  I grabbed his forearm. “Finish.” I softened my expression. “Please?”

  A tic jumped in his rigid jaw, and he glanced down where he was still seated in Seth’s ass. If I lingered, my presence would only crowd his heart with more remorse. His guilt over our pressured marriage was so heavy in moments like this it pulled on my soul.

  I grabbed my clothes from the floor and darted from the room without looking back, hoping like hell he listened for once.

  As I walked the length of the seven-thousand square-foot condo, my bare feet echoed in hollow slaps along the two-story ceilings. Collin and I designed the interior of our five-million-dollar home, and we’d earned every damned penny that went into it. But sometimes the high-quality fixtures, the lush furnishings, and the full-service amenities were unwanted reminders that we were on a power-hungry path to becoming just like our parents.

  Born three months apart with no siblings, we’d spent thirty-seven years bending to our parents’ political agendas. The Andersons and the Baskels not only blackmailed us into marriage, they reigned over our careers from their high-backed chairs on the board of Trenchant Media.

  I stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water and headed to my bedroom. We didn’t give a shit about wealth. Collin hosted his political television program The Anderson Angle because he believed in his ideas. His fresh, forward-thinking commentary swayed fiscal policies and expertly guided decision makers on the nation’s economy.

  At the top of his company, I led the Trenchant Times division, overseeing the digital and print operations. For ten years, I’d stubbornly fought the board to deliver neutral, hard-hitting facts to the people, battling the self-fulfilling conglomerate because, dammit, someone needed to do it. Yeah, it was an arrogant undertaking, but not completely benevolent. My pursuit was personal; my vendetta fermented in hatred.

  I threw the bundle of clothes into the bedroom closet, and one of the heels dented the wall with a satisfying thunk. When our parents discovered Collin’s sexual orientation during the rise of his popularity, we were forced to sign a contract that kept his secret buried beneath Trenchant’s conservative image. The contract stipulated everything from our marriage and careers to who we voted for and how we dressed.

  If our parents knew what Collin was up to at that very moment—my fingernails dug into my palms—they would end our careers and wrongfully send Collin to prison with purchased evidence.

  I would do what was needed to protect him, despite the painful shortcoming in our marriage. A marriage that left me yearning, night after night, for an intimate connection that couldn’t be sated by a shared partner. God, I longed for a connection that was given, not bought, despite the risks. The kind of breathless intoxication I fantasized about with a faceless man on a sportbike and had no hope of obtaining at the end of Seth's limp dick.

  Which was why I wouldn’t miss the underground race that began in—I glanced at the clock on the nightstand—two hours, for a glimpse of something more. To glory in those almost-maybe tilts of that mysterious helmet in my direction.

  A hot shower didn’t wash away the disappointment that had followed me from Collin’s room. The restless need for release—for something—pulsed through my body and fucked with my pulse.

  I dropped the towel on the floor and paced around the oversized furniture in my unlit bedroom—the couch and chaise lounge, the king-size bed, the towering bookshelves lining the walls. Velvety fabrics, dark heavy wood, warm shades of red and brown, the decor was inviting yet…empty, the furnishings as unused as the day I moved in.

  I spent my days in the office and my evenings with Collin or sneaking into races. But I slept here, in this cavernous space, isolated and hollow, and I hated it.

  Fuck, I was in a mood. Attending the race would pump some vigor into my blood. I didn't even mind if I missed a glimpse of Evader. He was just a glamorous thrill that added to the experience.

  Liar.

  I brushed a hand down my belly, teasing the need running beneath my skin, and my fingers grazed the stripe of hair between my legs. I had two hours to wait. Two hours until I saw him again. I stretched lazily, recalling the way he thrust four-hundred pounds of torquey craftsmanship on oil-slicked streets. His dark silhouette as intimidating and elegant as his bike, he always ignored the crowd with bored indifference, like he hadn’t just rocked their adventure-seeking world.

  Sighing, I retrieved the tablet and lay on the bed. The e-mail from Jenna waited in my inbox, as promised. Tonight’s race would begin near Bunker Hill, wind and turn through the back streets of downtown, and end at the intersection of State and Ninth Street.

  The exterior wall of windows cast a silver glow over my skin. I placed my feet flat on the mattress, my knees spread and pointed to the vaulted ceiling, and traced the shadowy lines of my thighs with the pads of my fingers, shivering against the caress. The air brushed my flesh, like a soft kiss without judgment, and it felt uninhibited, freeing, but lonely all the same.
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  I tapped the tablet until last weekend’s Trenchant Times’ story filled the screen. Dozens of images had been captured during the illegal race through Lincoln Park, most of them zoomed in on a sleek BMW S1000RR sportbike and its undefeated rider.

  Dressed neck to toe in black leather, the potent lines of his body molded to the sexy machine. His torso bent horizontally over the bike, following the sporty tail-up, nose-down design, mounting it like a lover. The way his thighs gripped the aluminum frame made me envious. I wanted to be that machine, to feel the strength of his legs while being ridden to the edge of death and back. Heat flooded my core, and a heavy exhale escaped my lips.

  I swiped back and forth between the photos, searching for the best angle of his ass. There. The rear shot of him taking a sharp corner. His knee hovered inches from the ground, flirting with danger and sending a shiver to the best places.

  Propping the tablet against my raised thigh, I slid my fingers along my slit and imagined straddling his lap, my wetness staining his leather pants. I’d grind against him and clutch his glossy black helmet with both hands, lifting it slowly, just enough to reveal his lips. I would lick them next, of course, and the stubble on his jaw—

  Would he have stubble? Yeah, it would burn a trail of fire against my skin.

  Dipping inside my opening, I wet my fingers, circled my clit, and flicked the piercing. My toes curled, and a breathless tremor sunk my body into the mattress.

  His helmet needed to come off, stat. I mentally yanked it up, my body quivering in anticipation of his face. I strained to make out his blurry expression, so I reached for his hair, dragged him closer, peering up and seeing…seeing…what?

  I scrunched my nose and dug through a collection of stimulating images in my finger vault, searching frantically for inspiration. Narrow chin? Too pompous. Freckles? Bleh, innocent. Long, black hair? Definitely not.

  Fuck if I couldn’t envision the right head shot. Screw it. Let him have his obscurity. Wasn’t that part of the allure? He didn’t need a face for me to fantasy-fuck him.

  But what if he had a hairy mole on his lip? Or a unibrow? Buck teeth?

  Another caress between my legs. “God, I’m shallow.” I inserted three fingers, knuckles deep, reaching for the feeling of fullness.

  “Not from where I’m standing.”

  I flinched and followed the soft timbre to the doorway. Collin leaned against the frame, clad in tailored, black boxers, his arms crossed over his bare chest like an underwear model. Shadows hid his face, but I could imagine the conflict tightening the skin around his eyes. I never left his bed unfulfilled, and he probably saw it as a failure on his part. No doubt he was here to rectify that.

  Sliding wet fingers to my tummy, I closed my legs. “Tell me you finished before you sent him home.”

  “Yeah. I did.” Each word caught thickly in his throat. He strode into the room and disappeared into the en-suite bathroom. A moment later, he returned, carrying my favorite vibrator with the fluttering clit stimulator.

  When he reached the bed, gray light from the windows landed across his upper body, revealing drawn eyebrows and a grumpy scowl. Knowing Collin, he was anxious to clear the air between us and verbalize whatever internal war he was waging. Did it make me a sucky friend because I wanted to skip the emotional argument? “Collin, I’m fine. Let’s not do this.”

  His face turned to stone. “Let’s not do what, Kaci? Let’s not communicate? Let’s not talk about how I just fucked the shit out of a man who lied to us?” The vibrator dangled from the hand at his side. His other hand scrubbed roughly over his mouth. “I don’t know if I’m more pissed at him for lying about being into you or at myself for not seeing through the bullshit. I mean, fuck, I’m known for my ability to read people.”

  That was mostly true. There was a list of powerful individuals who refused to be interviewed on his show because they feared he’d sniff out their secrets and expose them on TV. Strange how he didn’t have the same intuition about the people closest to him, like me and our parents. “Seth isn’t one of your political adversaries.”

  “Tell me about it. Soon as that hot little fuck struts through the door, my fucking brain scrambles.” His hand flew angrily through the air, circling around his head. “He’s turning me into a bottom.”

  “Did he fuck your ass?”

  His eyes widened in appall. “No.”

  God, he had so many hang ups he couldn’t fit them all in his ridiculously oversized closet. “The thing with Seth was bound to happen eventually.” I kept my voice quiet, calming. “We’re safer with the escort service anyway.”

  He sat beside my hip, facing me, and set the vibrator between my breasts. “I like him.”

  Oh. “You like him like him?”

  His shoulder lifted. “I don’t know, but I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to find out.”

  Which explained the turbulent emotions clouding his face. He didn’t tolerate deceit, yet he liked Seth despite being lied to.

  “Invite him back and punish his ass for lying to you.” I poked him in the ribs, the same spot I’d been torturing since before his voice dropped.

  “Arrgh.” He grabbed my wrist. His lips twitched then descended into a sulky arc. “I’m not going to pursue a relationship that excludes you.” His thumb stroked my palm, his gaze lifting to the windows. “It’s fucking selfish.”

  I lunged up, and the vibrator and tablet tumbled to the mattress. “Fuck your guilt, Collin. If you enjoy sharing your partners with me, that’s one thing, but it was never the arrangement we’d agreed on.”

  Seven years ago, we filled the headlines as the nation’s most celebrated marriage amongst traditional conservatives. Privately, we vowed to take lovers, separately or shared. It didn’t matter as long as our adversaries never found out.

  “I’m not going to fuck around,” he muttered, “if you’re going to be in here by yourself, doing…” He waved a hand at my groin.

  “Doing what?” I bit my lip to hide a grin.

  He dropped his arm and gave me a pointed look. “Spanking the kitty.”

  “The kitty likes to be spanked.”

  He raised a brow. I released the smile and nudged him with a knee. “Explore this thing with Seth. Just be careful. The way he looks at you worries me. Hell hath no fury like unrequited love and all that. We don’t need any more enemies.”

  His gaze didn’t waver from mine. Stubborn and determined, he was thinking too hard, likely circling around how this potential relationship would impact me.

  I met his eyes. “If I had my own man, a straight man, you would give me your blessing to fuck him without you.”

  He nodded, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “After I ran a full investigation on him, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “If I continue with Seth”—he peered up at me—“I’ll set better boundaries. But I will not leave you unattended.”

  Meaning he would continue to hire gigolos to get me off. Jesus, that sounded so pathetic. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my own companion.”

  He laughed, the ass. What the fuck ever. So I’d never arranged my own one-night stand. Only because I was terrified I’d sleep with a man who would expose our lifestyle. Collin went to great lengths vetting our partners with the help of the PI on his payroll. And he required a non-disclosure agreement before a single seductive glance was exchanged. I could do all these things myself. I’d just never needed to.

  “I’ve got a man on a motorcycle.” I pointed at the fallen tablet. “He’s safe.” A fantasy that would never be realized.

  “Seriously doubt he’s safe.” He rotated the screen and stared at the photo. “What do you think he’s hiding under all that leather?”

  I lay back and picked up the vibrator, closing my eyes. “Something huge and stiff.”

  He groaned. “God woman, you need to work on your creativity.” He shifted closer, stretching his legs toward my head, evid
ently settling in. “A man like that fucks like he rides. With intimidation, recklessness, and unharnessed energy. He’s powered by adrenaline and takes what he wants without care.”

  I loosened my legs, parting my knees, as the warm rumble of his voice illustrated my thoughts. The danger surrounding the mysterious man captivated me. Did he take all that risk just for the thrill of it? Or was it the money? It was rumored he made millions on each race, betting on himself and accumulating enemies with every win.

  A night in his arms wouldn’t be that risky because he had more to lose than I did, right? Wouldn’t he be more concerned about hiding his own secrets than unraveling mine? I was transfixed by that idea, longing for the only kind of passionate connection I could chance, one of shared anonymity.

  I wanted to be claimed by a mystery who possessed a woman as ferociously as he protected her. I wanted a fucking pipe dream.

  Collin swiped the screen on the tablet. “Bet he’s built like a machine, his cock an iron piston. And you know those muscles in his ass aren’t muscles at all, but carbon fiber over Kevlar. Aerodynamic and bulletproof.”

  A bulletproof ass? Ooookay, that was an interesting visual, somewhat bionic-man-like in the details, but it worked. My body primed for penetration, and the vibrator slipped right in.

  His dirty mouth rumbled on, describing the various methods in which an unlawful daredevil would steal through the night, plundering unsuspecting holes and virginal crevices. With lightning speed, I reached the pinnacle, teetering on the peak of relief.

  Collin flipped around, reclining with his head beside mine. “His ass would be so fucking tight, and he wouldn’t give it up easy. I’d have to fight him, wrestle him to the floor. ‘Course, I’m strong enough so he—”

  “Do you mind?” I tightened my grip on the vibrator. “This is my fantasy.”

  “You can be there. Just bring a strap-on.”

  Considering my luck with men, Evader was likely gay or married. Probably both. “Trying to concentrate here. Go back to the iron cock part.”