K. Lynn - Reciprocity

I let out a shuddering breath. “I can’t just hand this file to Tom.”

“You’d be dead before the day was over.”

I nodded. “I need a way so it’s not traceable to me.”

Jack stared at the files, humming as he tapped his fingers on his desk. “You know, Mary has a niece that works for Michael Lawson. Last I was down there, his office was two doors down from Tom’s.” My eyes grew wide, hopeful. “And Jenny, Mary’s niece, just so happens to be coming over this weekend.”

“Is that far enough removed?” Bad enough I was involving Jack, but my former mother-in-law and her family as well?

He lips set into a thin line. “No, you’re right. We need another step.”

My brain fired off ideas, each wilder and more extreme than the one before. “What if she put it in a courier envelope with a random address and sends it to Tom?”

Jack thought it over for a moment. “Do you want to risk it with this information?”

I blew out a breath. “What other choice do we have? Besides, I asked around, and Michael Lawson’s name did not come up as being associated with the case against Marconi. No one would be watching his office.”

Jack scratched at his jaw as he stared at the files. “I’ll get it wrapped up in a code-locked courier bag and have her send it that way.”

“How do we get him the code?”

“Leave that to me. I’ll figure it out.”

I was silent, unsure of how to thank him. “I can’t let it happen again, but I don’t know what to do to stop it.”

Jack’s eyes were soft, full of understanding. “This will help. And try to stay calm—Lila needs you.”

“Not as much as I need her. She’s stronger than I am.”

Jack shook his head. “When it comes to you, Lila is the weakest woman on the planet.”

I blinked at him. Fuck. He had a point. We were so codependent on each other that it was almost debilitating to even think of life without the other.

Days passed and…nothing.

Well, not nothing. I was a mess. A fucking disaster.

High anxiety, nightmares, and a constant popping of pills got me through the day. Lila got me through the night.

She made microwavable popcorn one evening and I flipped out, tackling her to the ground. I did laugh about it later, but it still had me on edge. I knew she was worried about me. She wouldn’t say it, because she didn’t want me to flip out even more. Conversations of the file and Marconi were taboo in our home.

Every day, she sucked and fucked me in an attempt to keep me calm. It worked, but I wasn’t stable. Highs and lows led to more forceful, selfish, but mind-blowing sex.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” She had me panting as she swallowed around my cock.

I held her head down, nose pressing against my skin, cock down her throat. Her fingers flexed against my skin, but I kept her there. The overpowering sensations of her gagging around the head forced me to pull out.

Lila was panting, almost gasping for air, her hand wiping at her mouth. Tears made her makeup bleed black down her pink cheeks and her lips were swollen and red. Her hair was a mess, thanks to my hands.

“You’re a fucking gorgeous mess.”

She smirked up at me and licked her lips.

“Do you want me to fuck you, little whore? I’m so fucking close. Or do you want to drink me?”

Her tongue flicked against the tip of my cock, and I hissed. She was lucky I didn’t push her back down right then and fuck her throat raw.

She sat up straight and opened her mouth, ready to receive. It was tempting, but I wanted to feel her pussy clamp down on me.

“Hammering your pussy it is.”

Her mouth closed some and she glared at me. “Why the fuck give me a choice?”

I walked around her and pushed her head down, leaning over her. “To make you think you had one.”

I was an asshole, but I’d make sure she enjoyed it.

My cock slipped easily into her wet pussy, and we both moaned. She hissed out a “fuck” and a sharp intake of breath when I slammed into her.

All of me curled into her, fingers digging hard into her skin. It was the only way I could get it all out.

She was crying out, screaming each time I bottomed out in her. Shaking, she looked back at me, and I almost lost it under the lust in her eyes. When her eyes rolled back and she fell forward, I smiled. Her fingers clenched into the sheets, fisting.

Her pussy clamping down finished me off. I shook, my hips thrusting, trying to reach deeper with each spurt of come that exploded out. Her pussy pulsed around me, drawing out the last drops. My legs gave out, and we fell to the floor in a tangled mess.

Before we married, we made a pact to have a date night once a week. It was to take the place of our bar night and help us get out of our hiding tendencies. Thanks to the wedding and trial, we’d lost a few. There was still a nervous edge in the back of my mind that one of our coworkers would see us and report us. Even after we were married, it caught us both at times. I loved being out with her, whether to the grocery store or a movie—it was great being able to live life again.

Adam was locked away, and Lila was glowing, despite the danger that was encroaching.

“You’re wearing that?” Lila asked as she came out of the closet.

I blinked at her and looked down at the charcoal slacks and black button-down. “Yes.”

Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, and it was then I understood that I didn’t just look bad. It was good—I looked edible.

The same could be said about her. The few dresses she had for work were always the perfect combination of sexy and sophisticated. Conservative, with body hugging lines. They looked great on her, turning me on and creating the easy access I craved. I still blamed the flirty hemline of one of her skirts for my inability to control myself that night a year ago.

We rarely went out for a nice dinner, but she always seemed to surprise me with a dress she pulled out of nowhere, and the one she had on was not a work dress.

My lip twitched up and I stepped toward her, needing to touch her. I reached out, my hand resting on her hip, the deep red satin silky and soft beneath my fingers. It was classy and elegant, showing off just enough cleavage to draw my cock’s attention. It made me want to rip her out of it and wonder why we ever thought to leave the house.

“Do we have to go to dinner? I could easily eat my dessert right now.”

She rolled her eyes at me and smiled. Her hand reached out and she pressed her palm against my dick, making me groan. Her other hand slipped under the collar of my shirt as she stepped forward to whisper in my ear.

“Something you want, baby? Do you want to fill my pussy, make me cream, and scream your name?”

“Fuck yes!”

She stepped away from me, her touch gone. My eyes opened to find a wicked grin.

“Too bad. I’m already dressed, and we’re going.”

My gaze narrowed at her. “I can rip it off you.”

“You do that, and I’ll be a dead fish for the next month.”

My jaw dropped. “My dick is magical, baby. You can’t resist the feelings it brings you.”

She didn’t flinch, her expression the same. “No anal, no blowjobs.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“I really like this dress.”

“I really like that dress, too. I’d like it better on the floor.” I smirked and my cock twitched. It liked that idea quite a bit.

She sighed and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

I adjusted my cock so it wasn’t tenting in my pants so much. “Okay, you win. I’m picking my battle. Dessert after dinner.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

“But…”

She glared at me. “What?”

“You can suck me off on the way to the restaurant.”

“It’s a two-and-a-half block walk.”

I held the door open for her. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

She rolled her eyes and walked through the door. “Yeah, I have to learn to levitate by the time we reach the lobby.”

We headed out, walking down the street with our fingers entwined.

“I love that the weather has finally warmed up.”

I reached out and touched her bare shoulder. “Me too.”

She looked at me, trying not to laugh, but just shook her head.

A few feet later, we were walking into the restaurant, and I attempted to behave.

Attempted.

The rich, dark woods that adorned the walls coupled with the low lighting provided a warm and romantic setting. How was I supposed to stave off my desires in a place that was asking me to grope her under the table?

We were seated at a table and not at a booth that would give me easy access to her. I wanted to pout at how far apart we were, even though our legs were touching under the table.

The host handed us our menus, along with the wine list, before departing. I was almost salivating as I read over the different types of steak. Ruth Chris was by no means cheap, but they were worth every penny.

“Hello, my name is Brian, and I’ll be your waiter this evening. Have you dined with us before?”

I looked up from my menu and was about to speak when Lila beat me to it.

“I haven’t.”

He smiled down at her. “Welcome, and thank you for coming.”

He was a young guy, mid-twenties, with the all-American boy look about him. Probably played sports and got in all the girls’ panties.

My jaw twitched as he pointed things out to Lila on the menu and explained that it was all à la carte. There was a difference between friendly and flirting. She was oblivious to it, but his smile was a little cocky for my liking, as was his staring down her dress.

I cleared my throat to gain his attention, and his head snapped up. “We’d like a bottle of the Chateau St. Jean, Reserve Merlot.”

He nodded, then looked back down to Lila and licked his lips. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

I couldn’t take any more. I grabbed her chin and turned her to me, kissing her so hard our teeth hit. She gasped before melting, like always.

“That’s all.” I held out the wine list for him, Lila’s hair still tangled in my fingers.

He gave me a tight smile as he took it and left.

Lila looked at me, her brow quirked as she sat back.

“What? He was too friendly with you.”

She pursed her lips. “He was being polite.”

“He was flirting.”

She leaned forward and nipped at my bottom lip. “So possessive.”

“Damn straight.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m your wife. Taken.”

I took her hand in mine. “Yes, but fuckers like to look and salivate and think about screwing you. That pisses me off. You’re mine. I need to hurry up and get you pregnant. Then everyone will see what I do to you.”

My cock twitched, reminding me it wanted another go at knocking her up.

She ran her hand up my leg, her fingertips brushing my cock. “You’ll get a chance to fill me after dinner.”

Our waiter returned with the bottle I ordered and poured two glasses. He kept his eyes off Lila. We placed our order and happily munched on some bread while we drank.

Dinner was perfect. My stomach was filled with the most delicious and perfectly cooked steak I’d ever eaten. I rubbed my stomach, patting it.

“That was the best steak ever, and I’ve been here before.”

“I hope you saved room for dessert.” Lila stretched her hand out to me, and I slipped mine over hers.

“You’ll probably need to give me and hour or so and then I’ll be up for it.”

She let out a small chuckle. “I was talking about the sweet pastry kind.”

“You can eat more?” She’d devoured her steak just as I had.

She frowned at the thought. “Well…”

The waiter stopped by, but instead of asking if we needed anything, he set a cake covered in candles on the table in front of me.

Lila smiled at me. “Happy birthday.”

I stared at her for a moment, then my eyes moved down to the cake. Yes, it was my birthday dinner—May 30th. I’d agreed to celebrate it this year as a way of moving on. It was a little easier, because the one I hated to think about was on a different date, a date I’d never forget—June 21st.

It was the first time I’d celebrated my birthday in five years. I was trapped between moving forward and being stuck in the past. The candles flickered at me, waiting. That was the signal that jostled me to the present, and I thought about the wish I would make.