Chapter 2
Becker
I might have fixed the alarm, but the power is out in the entire warehouse.
Aside from Cynthia, everyone is outside, and to compensate for missing the last thirty minutes of the lesson, Britt has shifted the social aspect to the nearest coffee shop.
Everyone seems to be okay, unlike the woman I came looking for.
I make sure my tone is calming as I lead her down the hallway. “Your friend’s worried about you. She said you’d been in a fire as a kid?”
Cynthia’s voice comes out far too weak, and her breathing is still too rapid. “Not exactly. I was locked in my room at a camp. The fire alarm went off and I couldn’t get out. I’ve had a slight problem with panic attacks since then.”
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “What kind of a camp locks kids in their rooms?”
Her voice comes out shaky. “Church camp. I got caught smoking. They were trying to frighten me out of doing it again.”
I glance at her. “And your folks were okay with this?”
Her reply comes out a little stronger letting me know her dad is the guy I thought he was. “My father was furious. I’m not sure what happened, but I never went back there again and a few months later I heard they’d closed down.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Her old man has a lot of clout. “Does your father know you’re here tonight?”
She blows out a breath. “No. And for the record, I had no idea it was this kind of art class. Lacey thought it would be funny, I guess.”
Since we’ve reached the end of the hallway, and I left enough emergency lighting on, I switch the flashlight off.
Even in the poor light I can see she’s still shaking. She looks at the broken phone in her hand and swallows. “Is there a phone I could use? Mine’s out of charge, and Lacey drove me here. I need to get home.”
I shine my flashlight up the stairs. “Not down here, but my cell is upstairs. You can wait for me to get it or you can come up?”
Her eyes shift to the empty warehouse, mostly encased in darkness. “Um, would you mind if I came with you?”
I smile. “I can make you some tea while you wait for your dad to pick you up.”
At the wide-eyed expression on her face I know he’s not going to be the one she calls. “I’d rather he didn’t know I was here. And I can’t imagine you want to run into him either?”
I shrug and back up so I can place a hand on the guard rail on the stairs. “I’m not bothered. I told him my sister teaches art and doesn’t strike me as the judgmental type.”
Her lips curve into a half-smile. “He’s not. But I’m still considered the black sheep of the family and there are a lot of people in the church who think he’s been too lenient on me.”
I place my foot in the step. “Why do you care what they think?”
The smile slides from her face. “If we’re going to have a conversation about all the mistakes I’ve made, can you at least offer me a drink?”
I chuckle. “Come on up. My place is upstairs.”
“You live here?”
I nod and keep pace with her as she climbs. “Yeah.”
Her eyes slide to me as we reach the top of the stairs. “And the teacher is your, um…partner?”
I hide a smile and open the door for her. “She’s my sister. And me doing this was a one-time thing.”
I flick the LED lights I grabbed on, those and the moonlight spilling through the windows gives me enough light to see the apartment.
She walks towards the firebox in the middle of the room. She checks out the pool table, but it’s the view from the balcony that seems to interest her the most.
“This is incredible. Did you renovate it yourself?”
I nod and gesture to the sofa so she can sit. “It took me a few months, but yeah, I did it myself.”
When she takes a seat, her eyes land on the vodka bottle I left on the coffee table.
She’s too polite to ask, so I gesture to the bar against the painted brick wall. “You want a drink? I can make you a Vodka tonic?”
I’m sure her cheeks flush but she smiles. “Please. And I don’t suppose you have a charger for an iPhone? I want to make sure Lacey’s dad is okay. She said he’d been taken to hospital.”
“Sorry, I don’t. But you can use my phone if you need to check on anything.”
She looks relieved. “I’ll call her soon.”
When she looks around the loft again, I decide to tease her as I pour two glasses of vodka. “You can tell me the truth, you know. I’m not going to judge you for wanting to perv at a naked guy.”
Her eyes pop as she takes the glass from my hands. “I didn’t want to. I had no idea—”
When I grin at her she rolls her eyes. “Oh ha, ha.”
I take a seat opposite and rest my ankle on my knee. “Why are you the black sheep of the family?”
She takes a large sip of her drink before answering with more honesty than I expected. “My sister wants to be an aid worker. My father is a pastor. And my mother was the perfect wife and mother. I’m just…none of those things.”
She takes another gulp of her drink and looks me dead in the eye. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip before answering. “Probably because trying to be perfect all the time is exhausting.”
She sighs and leans her head back on the couch. “Am I that obvious?”
I drain the rest of my glass and get up to refill it. “Nope. I just notice shit like that.”
At the unanswered question on her lips, I top up her glass and divert the conversation back to her. “If you don’t fit in here, why stay?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not just about me. I came home because my dad seemed miserable.”
I nod slowly, even though I don’t believe a word out of her mouth. “So, you’re here to make your dad happy? How’s that working out for you?”
Her lips quirk. “Are you always this blunt? How about I ask you a gazillion personal questions?”
I nod. “Go for it. Ask away.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why did you agree to pose for your sister’s art class?”
Since she’s being honest, I decide to be too. “Britt’s had a rough few years.”
Her brow knits. “Getting naked for a room full of people goes above and beyond big brother duties.”
My lip curls. “Yeah. Maybe.”
She downs more of her drink before she shakes her head. “No maybes’ about it. Weren’t you embarrassed?”
I chuckle and gesture to my groin. “Are you saying I have something to be embarrassed about?”
She shakes her head too quickly, her eyes drifting to my crotch. “Not from what I saw.”
When I laugh, her eyes widen and her hand goes to her forehead. “I need to leave before I say or do something worse.”
She looks so flustered, it’s so wildly amusing to see, I want to see what she’s really like underneath the image. “Or you could stay, and we could purposely do something worse.”
Her mouth slackens. “Please tell me you’re joking. That’s not going—"
I cut her off. “Why not? What are you afraid of?”
Her breathing is starting to speed, and I can see her chest rising and falling. “It’s not that easy.”
I finish my drink and reach for the bottle. “It can be.”
She shakes her head, but there’s an element of interest in her voice that lets me know she wants me to convince her. “How?”
I lean forwards and pour her another drink. “Stay and we’ll find out,” I say with a wink.
***
Friday 8.12pm
Cynthia
I bite my lip and can’t believe I’m even considering this.
Either it’s the vodka, or the trauma getting lost caused, but the more I think about it, the more I want to stay with him.
“Since you’re so fond of asking questions. How about a game of truth or dare?” I say.
He grins. “I’ll go first. Truth.”
I clear my throat and try to appear more relaxed than I am. “What did my father hire you to do exactly? He just said something about you helping with Trudy’s trip to Papua New Guinea?”
He replies immediately. “I’m working in an advisory capacity. Making sure Trudy knows what she’s in for, that sort of thing.”
I pull a face. “Is that usual for Global Hope to send someone in?”
His expression remains stony. “I can’t discuss that. Ask me another one.”
I’m slightly annoyed he’s not playing the game properly, so I go with another question. “What did my father tell you about me?”
For a second I think he’s not going to answer, but he does. “That I was to stay clear of you.”
My spine straightens. “Why?”
His lip curls into a wicked smile. “I’d imagine it’s because he’s smart enough to know what would happen if I got you alone.”
Heat rushes around my body as his eyes run the length of me. “My turn. Truth or dare?” he says.
I swallow hard before the word slips from my lips. “Dare.”
His lips twitch. “Take off your coat. I want to see the top half of that dress.”
Dammit. Why’d I pick this game to play? My choice of outfit is a dead giveaway he was right on the money about me.
But I do what he says, slowly unbutton my jacket and slip it off my shoulders.
His eyes drift to the black halter neck dress I paired with my heeled boots.
He looks decidedly amused as he looks me over. “That is not the outfit of a good little church girl, darlin, that’s an outfit that makes men like me forget why you’re off-limits.”
I wrinkle my nose in guilty pleasure as his eyebrow lifts. “What’s underneath it?”
I give him a wry smile. “It’s my turn. Truth or dare?”
He doesn’t even blink. “Dare”
Since I was hoping for truth, I have to think for a few seconds. “Stand out on the balcony and confess your undying love for K-Pop to your neighbors.”
He laughs but gets to his feet. I take a sip of my now overly strong vodka as he opens the door to the balcony and follows through. “I’m trying to get laid, and she wants me to tell y’all, I love K-Pop!” he yells.
It takes a few seconds but someone yells back at him. “Good for you, now shut the fuck up Becker!”
I laugh so hard, my stomach muscles ache, and my eyes are leaking tears. “You’re insane. Don’t you care what anyone thinks?”
He doesn’t bother to close the door, just gives me a wicked smile. “Never. Truth or dare?”
I stare at him, trying to figure out what he’s planning but give up. “Truth.”
There’s no hint of humor in his tone or in his question. “Did you get turned on looking at me naked?”
I suck in a breath as he perches on the arm of the sofa closest to me. My voice comes out a croak. “Yes.”
He doesn’t move, and I can’t seem to either. I swallow. “Truth or dare?” I whisper.
He does move then, fluidly, so he’s now sitting beside me. “Dare. Kiss me.”
I hold my breath as time seems to freeze. His knee is pressed against mine, he’s so close I can smell his shower gel, feel the heat emanating from his body, and the way my own is reacting to his nearness.
I lean a little closer, my heart skipping in my chest as I close the distance between us.
He doesn’t move, just lets me press my lips against his. My mouth instinctively opens, and I’m both delighted and concerned when my tongue connects with his.
His hand slides to the small of my back as his tongue teases mine. Shivers of delight run down my body as his fingers slide into my hair.
I moan and am more than disappointed when he breaks the kiss. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
I’m so befuddled, I say the first thing that I think of. “Truth. Can you really keep this a secret?” I say.
His hand slides up my thigh as he looks me in the eye. “Yeah. I can,” he says before he kisses me again.
***
Becker
Friday 9.07pm
After a marathon make-out session, that’s left me with a cock that could break ice, Cynthia is proving to be just as much fun as I thought she’d be.
Other than the incredibly sexy dress she’s wearing, I’m seeing more and more signs she’s hiding an alter ego.
And that alter ego is screaming to be unleashed, something I plan to oblige her with, all night if I can keep her here.
“You hungry? It’s past nine.”
She looks a little mussed but she nods. “I am. I think we were supposed to eat after the class or something. I missed dinner.”
“I can make something quick or we can get something delivered?”
She tilts her head like she thinks I’m crazy. “You cook?”
I chuckle and press another kiss to her soft lips. “Yeah. A little. Why?”
She shrugs. “Guess I’m used to women cooking and men watching.”
“Not in my house. My mom is a feminist. Taught us how to cook, clean the house. She also taught us about female orgasms, made us both read all the books about the suffragette movement, the whole nine yards.”
She chokes on her drink. “I’m sorry did you say she taught you about orgasms?”
At the sheer horror on her face, I laugh and pull her to her feet. “Didn’t you have sex ed at school?”
She shakes her head. “My parents opted out. Thank God we lived next door to Lacey. She was the one who taught me about sex.”
I tug her towards the kitchen. “Oh, yeah? That sounds hot.”
“Not like that. She lost her virginity before me, and she knew I couldn’t ask my sister or my mom about sex, so she kind of shared all the details and told me what to expect.”
Since we don’t have enough light, I light a few emergency candles so I can see what I’m doing.
When I’ve set up enough to make a chicken salad by, I gesture to the stool beside the island. “You didn’t ever talk to your mom about sex?”
She looks at her hands as I pour her a glass of red wine I left on the counter. “No. It was more like let’s not talk about it, and hope Cynthia’s interest in boys goes away.”
I take a sip of wine. “He’s trying to protect you from guys like me, can’t fault him for that.”
Her mouth twists downward. “Maybe not. But I still did it because I was curious. I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about. Not talking about things like sex made it seem shameful and dirty.”
I can’t help but grin at her. “Dirty can be good. If everyone is into it.”
When she blushes, I think she’s going to switch the subject, but it’s like a fire’s been lit under her.
“For a while there, I thought Lacey was lying to me about orgasms. Until I met Aaron that is.”
I tear some chicken off the carcass and toss the pieces into a bowl. “Aaron?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “The guy Lacey brought me here to forget about. The first guy who made me…”
I chuckle. “Wet?”
Her nose wrinkles and an even bigger flush spreads across her cheeks. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this. I don’t even know you.”
I smile as I add dressing to the salad. “That can change.”
She shakes her head. “Are you always like this with women?”
“Define this?”
Her eyebrows rise. “I’ve spent my entire life being told sex is not for polite conversation and in the space of two hours I’ve gone from seeing you naked to talking to you about orgasms.”
I hide a smirk as I push the bowl towards her. “Well, give it another two hours and I’ll do more than talk about orgasms.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You’re so sure of yourself, are you?”
I grin as I hand her a fork so we can share. “I’ve had no complaints, but I’ll let you be the judge.”
She chokes out a laugh and ignores the food in front of her. “I think that’s my cue to call a cab. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been fun, but I’m not that kind of girl.”
Before I can blink, she hops down, and I have to skirt the counter-top to block her exit. “Stay. I’ll behave.”
Her hands slide to her hips. “I don’t think you know how to behave. I think you’re dangerous.”
When she doesn’t move, I risk pulling her against me. “And you don’t want a little danger in your life?”
She pulls back, but not enough to convince me she’s serious about leaving. “I don’t want to be a notch on your bedpost, Becker. I just got my heart broken.”
I narrow my eyes and cup her chin. “It’s just dinner.”
“We both know it’s not.”
“Tell me you don’t want me.”
I can feel her trembling, and I know it’s not because it’s cold in here. “I don’t want to get hurt again,” she says.
I slide my hand to the back of her neck. “I have no intention of doing that.”
She shakes her head. “This isn’t me. I can’t do this. I have never had a one-night stand before.”
She looks so torn, I almost relent, and if it weren’t for the way her eyes keep straying to my lips, I would have. “It doesn’t have to be one night, Cynthia. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
When she doesn’t say anything but isn’t making any attempt to move, I give her one more out before I quit messing around. “Are you sure you want to leave?”
She blinks rapidly, lips parting and breathing speeding to match mine. “No,” she breathes. “No, I’m not sure.”
I pull her a little closer, so her tits are crushed against my chest. “This is the last time I ask you. Do you want to go?”
She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. “No, Becker, what I want is for you to fuck me,” she whispers.
