Jennifer Probst - All the Way

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she sang. “You loved it and you were crying. Admit the truth, or I’ll tell Elaine you sobbed and caused a scene.”

“The pasta sauce went to your brain,” he said.

Miranda made a face as the icy blast of New York City air hit her full force.

He pulled his lapels up around his neck. “Anyway, stop distracting me. You never told me what your boyfriend wanted to talk to you about.”

“Ex-boyfriend.” She cinched the belt tighter as they headed toward the parking garage.

“He looked like he wants to rekindle the romance. What’s the deal?”

They ignored the flashing Don’t Walk sign and cut in front of a hurtling taxicab. The driver beeped and stuck up a middle finger, but she shrugged it off. She knew deep down the driver wouldn’t have thought twice about running her down and leaving her carcass in the street. God, she loved the ruthlessness of the city. And how sick did that make her? The conversation she’d been desperate to forget hovered on the edges of her sanity.

“The deal is quite simple. Asshole wants to explain why he left.”

Andy snickered. They paid the attendant, hopped in the car, and cut into a throng of traffic. Her friend didn’t speak for a while, as they eased one inch per minute, until his curiosity finally won. “What do you want?”

She shrugged. “I want him to leave me alone. I want to forget I ever fell in love with him and was stupid enough to think he loved me. He completely humiliated me. I opened up to him, let myself be vulnerable, and he left. Now I want to get on with my safe, orderly life.”

“So, what are you afraid of? You’re in control now. Maybe it’s time you proved that to yourself.” He grinned. “Maybe it’s time you taught Asshole a lesson.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do women let men walk all over them? Look, he acted like a jerk and now he thinks he can corner you in the hallway and go back to the way things were. Think like a man. Hit him where he hurts the most.”

Miranda winced. “Doesn’t sound very charitable. Aren’t I supposed to be the better person?”

“Didn’t you ever hear of eye for an eye?”

“What am I supposed to do, get a couple of hoods to do a number on him?”

“Actually, I know this guy from the Mafia who—”

“Andy!”

“Kidding, just kidding. You’ll think of something. Picture thousands of women across the globe, waiting for you to bring justice to their gender.”

“Do you eavesdrop on Elaine’s conversations to come up with this stuff?”

“I watched Oprah once. But now that she’s retired, I’m into Dr. Phil. My therapist approves.”

She adjusted the heat of the vents and fought a shiver. “This whole conversation is ridiculous. I’ll never see him again. He may want me back, but I’ve moved on.”

“Why don’t you sound convinced?”

She looked out the window and tried to hold back the memories. “You don’t know how the relationship was. He had this sort of spell over me.”

“Like a weird sexual power?”

Miranda smothered a laugh. “Close. He’d just scored a partnership in MacKenzie & Associates Advertising, where he was used to getting what he wanted. And he wanted it all. Travel, power, money.” She shook her head in disgust. “But I saw something else in his eyes.”

“Uh-oh. Let me guess. A gleam of vulnerability. A bit of loneliness. All the things that trip up a woman.”

“Yep.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Of course, he told me the rules up front. He didn’t want any heavy commitments, and I accepted the terms. Until I fell in love with him.”

“I assume he didn’t suffer from the same emotions?”

The car pulled up to her apartment complex. “Guess not. After my big confession, he left. I never saw him again.”

“Until tonight.” Andy cursed and gripped the steering wheel. “He was probably running scared. We tend to flee when things get too heavy. God knows Elaine freaked me out when I realized she was the one, and it took a long time for me to finally realize it, too. Think about what I said. A little revenge may teach him a lesson. Not to mention how good it would feel.”

“Good night, Andy. Thanks for going to the opera with me. You can drop Stephen off at my house Saturday night.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “I didn’t really mean we had to trade services, Miranda. You don’t have to babysit if you don’t want.”

“A deal’s a deal. You go to the opera with me, and I babysit. Besides, I love Stephen.”

“Oh, you like horns on a kid, huh?”

She grinned and got out of the car. “Like father like son.”

“Ouch. Get some sleep.”

She shut the door and shivered in the damp air. With a quick wave to the security guard, she took the elevator up and hurried inside. Her heels came off in record time, and she quickly stripped, threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and collapsed on the slate gray sofa.

Silence enveloped the room. A silence she’d become used to. A silence she learned to cultivate after realizing her life had become a series of adventures with no end, turning her into an excitement junkie.

So, she’d changed.

Quiet now meant peace. Security. Safety.

Miranda listened to the steady pelt of rain against the window. So why did the silence suddenly feel so empty?

She groaned and buried her face in the velvety cushion. What was the matter with her? She was a strong, capable woman, and Gavin’s crazy declaration meant nothing.

Just like she hadn’t meant anything to him.

The demons rose before her, flashing and taunting even as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the images. But they were stronger than her will and dragged her back. Forced her to remember.

“Talk to me, baby.” His mouth nibbled on her ear, did delicious things to her neck, and with one quick movement, strong hands ripped open her blouse.

She gasped, knowing this was the beginning of the game that would end in a rocket of pleasure. Knew the rough play ended in the most explosive orgasm she’d ever experienced.

“Tell me where you want to be touched.”

She guided her hands to her breasts and arched. “Here. Oh, yes, like that.”

His mouth replaced his fingers as he took one ruby crest between his lips and sucked hard. Her skirt fell around her feet and he caressed her buttocks through the silk of her panties. Liquid fire pooled between her thighs.

“More?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her throbbing clit. His leg hooked under her knee and lifted her up, bracing her against the wall so she was splayed open. One finger slipped beneath the elastic edge. Paused. And plunged deep. “Here?”

Her head hit the wall and her teeth bit down on her lower lip. On the verge of orgasm, she fought for control. “Yes.” She fumbled with his belt buckle, frantic to get him as deep inside her as possible.

He gave a low laugh filled with satisfaction. “You’re a greedy woman, Miranda.” Her hands closed around hard, silky flesh and squeezed. His gasp drove her on as she stroked his hard length. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

“I want you.”

He lifted her up. “Wrap your legs around me tight,” he commanded. She obeyed immediately, knowing he liked control, liked watching her lose her sanity before he gave in to his own satisfaction. “Look at me.”

Steel-blue eyes caught and held hers. Raw emotion and need exploded from her gut and shimmered through her and suddenly she knew. Knew he claimed more than her body in that moment. Somehow, in a matter of weeks, he’d claimed her mind and heart and soul.