A Fine Balance Read online

  She moaned softly, clenched her pussy around his finger.

  Fucking strong; that took practice. “Umm…nice--definitely frantic.” Stroking gently, he focused on her G-spot, sliding the pad of his finger up and down, around and around, exerting more and more pressure on the little bundle of nerves, waiting for her to reach a seething hysteria before he said, “You might have to do something for me before I fuck you.”

  Her lower body squirming hard against his hand, she breathed, “Anything, anything at all, oh God, oh God...”

  “I need Matt Hayes’s address.”

  She gasped, then powering through her shock, stared at him with pure fury. “Fuck you!”

  “Suit yourself.” He stepped back, ripped off the condom, dropped it on the floor, made a fist around his cock and rammed his hand downward. His erection surged upward, the swollen head turning purple with the fresh rush of blood.

  Her gasp that time was different. Desperate.

  “It’s only an address,” he said, calmly. “And you can have this as many times as you want.”

  “As many times?” Her voice was shaky, a thin sheen of sweat pinked her face.

  “You name it, you got it.”

  Her gaze finally lifted, although she had to draw in a breath before she spoke. “In writing.”

  He grinned. “Seriously?”

  So close to orgasm she was trembling, she still bargained like a pro. “As seriously as you want the address.”

  “Deal. I’ll even whip you, or tie you from the fucking ceiling if that’s what”--

  She came right then and there with a little high scream and he knew he had a busy few hours ahead of him, although when it came to whips he’d have to improvise. Guido wasn’t the adventuresome sort.

  “You’re going to have to make up for that useless orgasm, dammit,” she snapped a moment later.

  “Not a problem, darling.” He almost had what he wanted and once he did, he’d willingly fuck her til she dropped. “Would you like to try the bed this time?” he added waving her down the hallway to the bedroom at the same time he moved toward the living room in search of writing materials.

  “You better be good,” she muttered, flouncing away.

  “Haven’t had any complaints,” he softly drawled and minutes later, he followed her into the bedroom with a pen and paper before she’d finished unbuckling the ankle straps on her black Louboutin fuck me heels.

  She tried to haggle, but he happened to have something she wanted, so the discussion of their sexual quid prop quo was brief. With the agreement in writing, he had Eric run Hayes’s address. “Sorry, babe, I need confirmation,” he apologized, his cell to his ear while he waited for Eric to verify the info. “It checks out? That was fast,” he said. “I owe you one. Thanks.” Slipping his phone into his jeans pocket, he quickly undressed, set Megan’s written demand for seven orgasms—how about that, his lucky number—on the bedside table and turning back, gave her a nod.

  “Get your ass here.” He pointed to the edge of the bed, making her move from her lounging pose because she got off on domination, he had a quota to hit and he wasn’t interested in wasting a lot of time. “You can undress later. Or maybe you don’t have to undress at all. I only need your cunt and that looks like it’s open for business.”

  She wanted raw, he’d do raw.

  She wanted orders, he’d do orders.

  She wanted rough, he was in the mood.

  Chapter 23

  While Jack was working up a sweat paying off his debt, Gavin was debating whether to pick up a call on his secure line. After a quick reminder that the head case calling him had, and could continue making him millions, he lifted the receiver and put it to his ear. “Afternoon, Reverend. I caught your sermon last Sunday on cable. Fine, thoughtful homily.” He spoke in a voice used to calm twitchy legislators who’d never before taken money for a vote. A small town, I-know-your-aunt-Mabel friendly tone.

  Jeremiah, “appointed by God”, Tweedy III, pastor, TV evangelist, cartel partner, snake, swindler, con man and developer of Sunset Retirement Community that offered residents a-closer-to-God pass, was immune to nuanced tones. “What the FUCK are you doing up there?” he screamed, spewing crazy in every raging, fire-breathing word. “My boy, Howie, just told me some goddamned, motherfucking, piss-ant sheriff came sniffing around!!”

  “It’s being taken care of as we speak.” It wasn’t of course. Remington hadn’t been able to reach Hayes.

  “It better be goddammit.” A hiss like a rattler. “You don’t want me sending a little note to the feds about your activities.”

  Now Gavin Remington prided himself on not openly threatening people. His job as a lobbyist was to make people understand that his proposals were best for everyone—even without the bribe. But if a person proved recalcitrant, he knew how to turn the screws softly. He resented Tweedy’s coarse bullying. “Let’s not make rash statements, Reverend,” he said, mildly. “We both live in glass houses.”

  “The fuck you talking about?”

  Dumb prick. “I can call the feds as well. That’s all I meant.” Nothing in Remington’s voice changed, although he was already debating possible exit strategies.

  “And I could have you killed.” The unstoppable ego of a deeply disturbed soldier of God.

  A quick recall of construction costs in Tuscany, an inaudible sigh. “I’m not sure that solves your problem.” Gavin had hired thugs on his payroll too and conning a con was a heavy lift. “Right now, you need to make sure the state attorney general isn’t wondering what happened to his whistle blower. I can help you there. I know people in the AG’s office. I doubt you do.”

  “Just remember I need results, dammit, or heads will roll and it won’t be mine,” Tweedy growled. “Are we clear?”

  Gavin wanted to say, the only clarity is that you’re bat-shit crazy, but he said instead, “Absolutely.” He’d have Webb pull another hundred bales of weed off the truck in reprisal for the asshole’s threats. Serve the motherfucker right.

  “I’ll be up for the harvest. Make sure this problem is gone by then.”

  The phone went dead.

  Remington shouted for Megan, waited, shouted again. No response. Then he glanced at the clock. Fuck. Lunchtime. She’d come back with two martinis under her belt and be useless for the rest of the day. A thin smile appeared. Perhaps not completely useless. She gave head with a real flair after lunch. He shot another look at the clock and decided to cancel his two o’clock. Leaning forward, he reached for the phone.

  Chapter 24

  Having just finished round four, Jack was breathing hard.

  Megan’s plump ass was a flaming shade of pink after some serious whipping with one of Guido’s belts. No question the lady got off with hard-core punishment. There was no accounting for people’s sexual preferences. In his line of work, he saw enough violence to prefer his orgasms not leave marks—other than on his libido. And those didn’t require hospitalization.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, tossing the belt across the room. “Let’s give it a rest. I’ll tie you up instead. How about that? I’ll still make you beg. You want this right?” He stroked his upthrust dick, smiled faintly as she lay face down on the bed pouting. “You want my big dick in your tight pussy again, don’t you? There you go,” he murmured as she turned her head enough to watch him slowly circle his erection with his fingers, slid his hand down, then up, then down again. “Interested? I know some good knots. You won’t be able to move. I’ll be able to fuck you any way I want.” He laughed. “You like that? Then up on your knees, babe. New experiences and all that shit, okay?”

  “I’m still counting,” she said, pettishly, coming up on her knees.

  “You and me both.” He grinned. “Ever come three times in a row? Or maybe we’ll try for a bonus four just for the helluva it.” He held up his finger as she opened her mouth to speak. “I’m not really asking. So keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.” He wasn’t being an ass; she was into domin
ation is all. And honestly, if he could ramp her up three times in a row—maybe four if he felt like being nice--his job was done.

  Christ, it was like competing in an Iron Man contest.

  It turned out that four in a row was all she could take.

  So the last one was less violatile.

  Fucking missionary position. Sorta. Her choice not his.

  With Megan’s eighth orgasm checked off, Jack slowly withdrew, pushed up on his hands, looked down and murmured, “We good?”

  Since her eyes were shut and she was gasping for breath, he didn’t really expect an answer. Rolling back on his heels, he eased the condom off his stiff cock, tossed it, slid back, leaned against the footboard, ran his palms over his damp hair and waited for Megan to regain consciousness. He still had a little more business to discuss. And with her bound spread eagle to the bed with Guido’s silk ties, he had a captive audience for his proposal.

  Her eyes slowly opened, then taking note of his rock hard dick, widened. “You on some pharmaceuticals?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I eat a nutritious diet. How’s it going?”

  Her gaze suddenly narrowed. “Am I supposed to say thank you?”

  “Hell no, the pleasure was mine. You probably have to get back to work.”

  “I probably do.” She tugged at her wrist ties.

  “A last question if you don’t mind,” he said pleasantly.

  She raised her hand the minimum distance allowed by the half hitch around her wrist. “Do I have a choice?”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “And I’d like to think you’re not a predator like some of the cops I see.”

  “You mean ex-cops. That’s who comes into Remington’s office.”

  “I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you.” A petulant look. “Untie me.”

  “In a minute. What’s your price for Remington’s client list?”

  “You can’t afford it.”

  “Sure I can.”

  She zeroed in on his erection. “Are we talking the same thing?”

  “We’re talking whatever you want.” He glanced down. “My dick, money, a new job. What’s the price?”

  “What if I said all three?”

  “I’d say, sure, no problem.”

  “Are you crooked? Cops don’t have money.”

  “I’m a partner in a winery. I do okay. And I know people who can get you a job where you don’t have to get down on your knees and pretend you like it. Better pay, better working conditions. What do you say?”

  “Untie me first.”

  He did because she hadn’t said no, gently massaged her wrists and ankles, helped her to sit up, then went back to his lazy sprawl at the foot of the bed and quietly waited. Never push. First rule of negotiating.

  “Gavin’s dangerous, his clients are dangerous. That’s probably not news to you, but if I do this it puts me in jeopardy.”

  He liked the if; that was progress. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, flushed and well-fucked, hopefully more agreeable because of all his hard work. “How about a job at a law firm in San Francisco and a security team until this case is shut down and you feel safe?”

  Faint disbelief in the lift of her brow. “You must want this bad.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know about bad, but yeah, I want it.” That had always been his problem—trying to square justice and injustice; the fact that he always felt as though it was his personal responsibility, maybe even duty, to put a thumb on the scale.

  “Where in San Francisco?”

  That was a yes. He was careful not to show his excitement, but a fierce jolt of satisfaction spiked through his body and his dick responded.

  “Looks like you’re happy.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” she purred.

  All his former misgivings apropos sex as business vanished at the thought of scoring Remington’s client list. Jack’s smile dazzled. “One for the road?”

  She crooked her finger. “Come here.”

  “Uh-uh.” He ran his fingers up his rigid dick. “I don’t take orders—remember?”

  “Not even for Gavin’s client list?”

  His lashes drifted downward marginally. “Sorry. Tell you what though…come closer.” He pointed at a spot on his right. “You want it a little rougher this time? So we end the afternoon on a high note?”

  She sucked in a breath.

  Her huge boobs quivered in a tantalizing flutter of soft, pink flesh, sending a direct, graphic message to his brain. “Why don’t we tie up your big tits so it hurts just a little, not too much; you let me know when to stop. Then I’ll suck on your nipples til you come. Your clit too; you like that don’t you? You like to come with my mouth on you. Look at me. Tell me that’s what you want.”

  She was beginning to tremble, her eyes were going shut. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes, what?” Low and curt. “Tell me what you like.”

  “Your mouth on me.”

  “Where?”

  She shivered, struggled to reply. “On my clit.”

  “And? Where else?”

  “Anywhere you want.”

  He sighed. “You weren’t listening. I was going to suck on your tits and make you come.” He leaned forward, flicked one of her nipples with his index finger. “Hey, babe, stay with me.”

  Already drifting away, she slid her hand between her legs.

  He jerked her hand up, hauled her close, cupped her fingers around his rigid cock. “You want this instead?” He flinched as she squeezed the crest way the hell too hard, quickly uncurled her fingers, brought them to his mouth and bit them sharply enough to make her yelp. “Now that I have your attention,” he said, smiling, “bring me those two ties on the headboard posts. Or if you don’t want to,” he said when she didn’t immediately respond, “I’ll get dressed.” He started to slide off the bed.

  Her eyes flared wide, alarm lit her gaze. “No, no! Don’t! What are you doing?”

  “You gotta listen, Megan. I give the orders, you obey them or you don’t get my dick. Tell me you heard that.”

  She gave her head a little shake, took a breath. “I heard.”

  “Then bring me those ties behind you.”

  She turned, crawled over to one bed post and struggling to open the knot on the tie, softly swore. “You could help,” she muttered.

  “Not in my job description.”

  She swung around and glared at him. “Maybe I don’t want your dick.”

  His gaze was bland. “Your decision.”

  “Men beg me you know,” she said with a little sniff. “Not the other way around.”

  “You don’t say. We done here?” He began to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Wait, damn you!”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “You need something?”

  She suddenly looked like he imagined the young girl had who’d won the Miss San Fernando Valley crown; before she’d become the glorified playmate for Gavin Remington and bought into the false aspirations of his world. A pretty young woman. Unsure. The full extent of her allure suddenly in question.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said, softly. Swinging back, he reached out and lifted her onto his lap. “I apologize for my bad behavior. Why don’t we just take it slowly this time.” He raised her enough to set her astride his legs. “Put your arms around my neck, that’s the way,” he murmured, helping her put her hands in place. “Lift up a little.” He gently cupped her ass and raised her slightly. “There you go.” He eased her down his hard length, watched her eyes go shut, heard her tiny sigh. “Now I know you like a little wildness, but if I get out of hand, shut me down.” He lifted her chin with a fingertip, held her gaze. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in an age,” he whispered, being kind because she wasn’t the Megan he’d been fucking since lunch. Maybe the two double martinis were wearing off and she was feeling melancholy, unsettled, adrift for unknown reasons. Or maybe it didn
’t fucking matter what the hell was going on. He smiled. “So everything a go now?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer.

  And in the next half hour, he earned that client list.

  There was no doubt that Megan got off on hard driving, pedal to the metal, brute force. Hot and heavy all the way.

  They were both slick with sweat by the time she panted, “Stop, stop, stop, no more!”

  Thank God. Finally. This was his first sex-as-business transaction; it wasn’t like fucking for fun. It was a ball-breaking job.

  Once their breathing was back to normal and they’d washed up and dressed, they discussed the details of their new agreement. Wade would find her a job at a prominent law firm in San Francisco, the sum she asked for wasn’t impossible. The family vineyard was highly profitable, had been for three generations, Jack’s multi-million dollar NFL contract had gone into his portfolio and increased nicely over the years; he was financially secure. As for his personal attention, he promised to deliver on that promise once Megan was settled in her new job. He felt a twinge of conscience as he promised her sex since he hoped to renege, but he told himself she’d find any number of men anxious to fuck her in the city. She’d forget his obligation.

  He chose not to dwell on the fact that he wasn’t interested in fucking a bona fide beauty queen when in the past he wouldn’t have turned her down.

  But he said all the right things as he escorted her out to her car. He was charming as hell. He thanked her with genuine sincerity. He’d already wired fifty thousand to two of her bank accounts in increments that wouldn’t red flag federal guidelines.

  “Thanks for the financial compensation,” she said, smiling up at him as he opened her car door. “You’re a trusting soul.”

  He smiled back. “I can be an asshole if you don’t come through.”

  She took a small breath because underneath his smooth drawl was a cool ruthlessness. “I’ll email you the list as soon as I can. Gavin never stays past five.”

  “You sure you don’t have to give notice?”