Page 65 of Wild Card
“I want your mouth, please.”
“Want it where? You’ll need to be more specific. I want to hear you ask for it, Scarlett.”
“I want your head between my thighs and your mouth on my clit until you make me come.”
“There’s my dirty girl.”
He slips his thumb out of the way and replaces it with his tongue. He takes long slow tortuous drags while he slides his fingers in and out of me. I rock my hips forward, trying to carefully balance, and his arms wrap around my thighs, steadying me and helping with this delicate little act we’re performing.
I want to melt when I look down at the sight of him between my thighs like this. He’s so beautiful and the way he works me into a slow-building wave of pleasure, carefully taking his time, measuring every response, and giving me more and less as I need it, has me drowning in it in a few short minutes.
As I come down from it, he trails kisses along the inside of my thigh toward my knee, stopping there to look up at me.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Scarlett, but having you here has been nonstop torture for me.” He takes my hand and helps me back down the library ladder, and my legs feel wobbly when I hit the ground. He grins at me and wraps an arm around my middle, pulling me close and kissing the side of my neck.
“Do I make you unsteady?” He teases.
“You do have a habit of it, yeah.” I smile.
“It’s mutual.” He kisses me on the lips and then takes my hand, leading me back to his room.
THIRTY-FIVE
Scarlett
In the afternoonwe’re working in the library together when his phone rings. He answers it, and it’s his agent. I don’t hear the first part of what he says to the guy on the phone, but I definitely hear the next few bits.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t be serious.”
A long pause ensues.
“So it was her, this entire time? The whole time she was playing coy and acting the victim?”
Another pause.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fucking pissed. Who wouldn’t be? All because she wanted some extra cash? Jesus, she could have come to me, and I would have given her some of it. Was it that fucking dire she wanted to release poorly lit homemade porn? Fucking hell.”
“I’m not going to say anything. Frankly, in some ways, it’s a relief. I was worried about what else a hacker was going to leak.
I can hear a raised voice on the other side of the phone.
“I’ve already got it handled, Jim. The forensic guy consulted for me, and we got extra security on it. Encrypted passwords. All that mess that he suggested, so I’m not as worried going forward.”
My heart skips a beat as I listen. It sounds like maybe we’re in the clear. That maybe it was the woman who released the sex tape and not someone else. I nibble my lower lip while I wait for him to get off the phone, and he paces around discussing more details of his current physical therapy and progress. When he finally gets off the phone, he looks at me and grins.
“We’re in the fucking clear, Spitfire. No home pornos for us.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. It was her. She released it. I guess she got some deal to have her own makeup line or whatever. The marketing campaign wasn’t going well, and they told her she needed to do something to get more attention, or they were going to pull it from shelves. Poor numbers or whatever.”
“So she released the video she made with you?”
“Yeah. Makes me feel fucking sick.” He shakes his head. “But on the upside, you’re in the clear. Which is a huge fucking relief. I couldn’t have lived with fucking up your life like that.”
“You wouldn’t have fucked up my life. That would have been the hacker’s fault. We made the video together and while I definitely did not want to share it with the world, I also kind of feel like we shouldn’t have to be embarrassed about it at the same time. You know?”
“Yeah. Doing a thing tons of other fucking people do, but we have to pay the consequences because people recognize my name. Like I said, it makes me feel sick. This whole thing… It’s changed a lot for me.”
