Painting the Roses Red Read online

  She shook the haunting past aside. “Mind if I take a look around your place?” She’d prefer if he said yes, but it wasn’t really a request. Sawyer’s obsession with cameras everywhere meant she always checked a room if she had the choice.

  “Not much to see, but sure.” Dexter gestured widely.

  She checked heat registers, corners, lights, anyplace that could hold a camera. Nothing. Maybe Whisk wasn’t as paranoid as Sawyer had been. The thought didn’t feel right, but Dexter was right—there weren’t many places in here to put a camera.

  Lisa handed Dexter the ecstasy. “Knock yourself out.”

  “You’re joining me.” He rubbed the tiny baggie between his fingers, extracted one pill, and held it out.

  “Not while I’m working.”

  “You said anything. How often are you going to change the rules?”

  Fair question. And she could really use the distraction. She opened her mouth and let him drop the pill in.

  Chapter Three

  Lisa would have balked at something like coke or heroin. Her work with Sawyer’s empire took all of her time; the last thing she needed was another vice. But Molly took the edge off life, and that was a nice change of pace.

  Even as her senses sharpened and her mind softened, she couldn’t drop her guard. It was a hard lesson to learn, but one life taught her when she was in her early twenties. Sometimes the job required she drink or get high. However, she could never lose track of the final goal.

  She lay next to Dexter on a blanket on the floor, most of her attention on a half-finished painting at the edges of her vision. The vivid splashes of red mingled with black and earth tones in a hauntingly surreal suggestion of agony and desire.

  “Is this how you get your inspiration?” Her own voice sounded distant, as if filtered through water, but lyrical at the same time. “You grab a new perspective on the world and bring it to life in oil?”

  “No.” The harshness was gone from his voice, and it wasn’t a stretch for her to imagine him singing the words. “It erases the fact that I’m stuck in this shitty mess.”

  Unfortunately, he was singing Nine Inch Nails, and she wanted Ave Maria. “You mean the shitty horror of someone paying you to create? Do you know how many artists—”

  “Would sell their soul for a chance like this? I assume most, and almost every one of them would regret it. Almost as much as you do.”

  A shiver raced down her spine at his glimpse into her soul, harshing her buzz. “I didn’t sell my soul to Whisk.” Just to Sawyer. Though, in the beginning, it wasn’t that way.

  “Let me guess. You have a plan. As soon as it’s complete, you’re getting out.” Dexter’s laugh was silliness mixed with ice.

  My plan is different. How cliché was that? She didn’t care for this stranger easily picking her apart after knowing her for an hour. Weren’t they supposed to be sinking into the rush of endorphins and fucking, or something? Sex with a man she just met was status quo, but for as many as swore they could read her like a book, none ever spoke the language she was written in.

  “I have a plan in the same way you just paint.” She didn’t appreciate being lumped in with anyone else who ever swore they could get out of a bad situation but was delusional. Dexter had his skills, and Lisa had her own. “And I don’t work for Whisk.”

  “He told you to come here, and you did. He told you to babysit me, and you are. Who do you think you work for?”

  Lisa didn’t want to get into this. They were drifting too close to the truth she needed to hide. With the air dancing over her skin and the colors wrapping around her heart, she didn’t want the wrong things to slip out. “Why are we talking about this?”

  “If you’re here until I’m done with my work, we should get to know each other.”

  That made sense. Part of her mind argued it didn’t, but that part was fading behind how intense their surroundings were. His cologne was amazing. If she licked him, would he taste like soap or more like the hint of tequila that lay underneath?

  She summoned the words for her half of the conversation. “So why aren't we talking about you?”

  “You already know who I work for and what I do for him. Put us on even ground.”

  They’d have to smooth out the blanket, for that to happen. A giggle rose in her throat at the thought, and she smothered the unwilling burst of amusement.

  “If I tell you the truth, you won’t believe me,” she managed in a mostly flat tone. Either because he didn’t know who Jabberwock was, or because he did know and wouldn’t buy that Lisa was one of his.

  “Try me.”

  She wanted to try him in a dozen different ways. To climb on top of him and try him inside her. To nibble along his chest and see if his skin was more like ice cream or cinnamon toast. Sin... Another giggle bubbled inside. Fuck. She liked this too much, and it was too late to take it back. “Jabberwock.”

  “No shit. Which number are you?” He rolled his head to the side. He was pretty.

  She clenched her toes, to keep from reaching up and tracing his jaw with her hand. “Excuse me?” The words tasted funny—like those sour-sweet candies—and the texture of her tongue tickled the roof of her mouth. If he licked her, would it feel as good?

  “What number? Like... Nine of Clubs?”

  “Queen of Hearts.” No reason to hide it, if Dexter was familiar with the structure. Whisk knew who she was and wouldn’t keep her secret if it didn’t suit him.

  “No shit. The Queen? What does Jabberwock want with me?”

  Nothing ever again. The thought threatened her with another giggle. What Jabberwock wanted died when he did, but she wasn't getting into the weeds of business with Dexter, regardless of his armchair psychiatrist observations. “Nothing. He loaned me to Whisk. Don’t ask me why, because I’m not discussing Jabberwock’s business with you.”

  Saying Jabberwock made her lips tingle. She pressed her fingers to the sensitive skin, and need raced through her. If Dexter breathed on the right spot, would she come? Her entire body hummed with an awareness she’d never experienced. “Isn’t this conversation killing your rush?”

  “Fair question.” His harmonious voice slid along her neck. He rolled to straddle her, his weight pressing in on her hips and pelvis.

  Instinct lay underneath the high, and it screamed this was dangerous. Her body reacted before her mind caught up. She grabbed his thigh, shifted her weight, and reversed the hold. She landed on top, with one knee between his legs and a hand at his throat.

  Shit, what was she doing? Did she apologize or pretend this was intentional? Never let them know you lost control. A life rule.

  “Whoa.” Dexter held up his hands. “All right, Queen. You can be on top.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Lisa felt everything. Each beat of her heart, and the individual pulses of adrenaline it sent racing though her veins. The heat of his thigh between hers. His bare skin against her fingertips. She shifted her weight to fully straddle him, and his erection pressed into her.

  He thrust his hips up with a groan. “What should I call you?”

  “Lisa.” It had been so long since people just used her name.

  “Well Lisa, how does a woman like you wind up working for a guy like that?” Dexter’s voice was smooth. Soothing. He trailed his fingers up her arms as he spoke, sending conflicted fissures racing over her.

  She hadn’t started out working for Sawyer. They were partners in the beginning, and while they walked in a legal gray area, they weren’t criminals. They made connections for and pretended they didn’t know why someone would ask for the things people asked for. But the jobs grew fast, and Sawyer got caught up in their personas.

  “It’s not a simple question to answer.” She skated her palms over Dexter’s chest, memorizing the silky smoothness. The fine hair. “It’s not like one day I woke up and said, I’m going to be a fixer for one of the most distorted names on the dark web. I did a job here and there, and suddenly I was in deeper than I ever want
ed to be.” And then she met Alex and realized it was too late to get out. Why was she telling Dexter any of this? “How about you?”

  “Oh, I went in with my eyes wide open. Whisk approached me and offered me the money and contract, and I said I was willing to do anything for that price, as long as I got to follow my muse.” He dragged his fingers down her sides, then up her spine.

  The feather-light touch drew a soft gasp from her. She didn’t want to tumble into her own past, and how things deteriorated with Sawyer and losing Alex. It hurt too much. She was going to slide into the euphoria of the moment. “If you like offers so much, what if I make one?” She rested one hand on either side of his head, for support, then leaned in and drew her lips up the side of his neck.

  His scent amplified her desire and drowned out the hurt. His touch was satin and electricity, sparking along every one of her nerve endings. “What’s your offer?” he asked playfully.

  “Letting you live out that fantasy of fucking the nanny.”

  He bit his bottom lip. “I have been a naughty boy. Teach me a lesson or two, like how to make a stunning woman like you happy.”

  Happiness was a lie, but she’d take intense pleasure for an hour or two, before reality crashed back in.

  Chapter Four

  Lisa’s skirt was bunched up over her hips. She was pretty sure something had ripped, but it didn’t matter. The thin barrier of her panties and Dexter’s shorts did nothing to keep her from feeling his hard length, and that distraction was worth a torn skirt.

  Every one of her senses was alive. If she followed a specific sensation, like that of his cock digging into her, she’d get lost in the feeling. It was better to let everything wash over her than consume her in a wave.

  She planted her palms on his bare chest and rocked her hips, grinding against him. The sensory overload of dry humping was almost enough to make her come.

  Dexter worked his fingers up the front of her shirt, undoing each button he encountered... sort of. He fumbled with and popped off as many as he unbuttoned, and gave up with two left, ripping her shirt open. He shoved her bra out of the way, to knead her breasts. His skin was hotter than hers. How was that possible? She didn’t care. It all seared through her with delicious fire.

  Her head floated in the clouds, soaking up her body’s reactions. Why didn’t she do this more often?

  Because I like it too much. The voice was barely a squeak in the back of her mind.

  Dexter pinched one nipple and dropped his free hand to her waist. He hooked his fingers in the elastic of her underwear and tugged hard enough to dig into her skin.

  “Ow.” Her yelp at the burn was disrupted by her laughter. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “I was going to rip them off.”

  His answer made her giggle, and she couldn’t stop.

  He joined in the laughter. “What’s so funny?”

  “This isn’t a romance novel. My panties don’t tear off like paper,” she managed between giggles.

  “Good thing I’m adaptable.” He pushed the crotch aside instead and glided his thumb along her slit.

  Lisa’s body reacted the instant he brushed her clit, her pussy clenching and wanting more. Her laughter turned to sighs, and then moans, as he traced circles around the swollen button. She fell into the intensity of his attention, rocking her hips, grinding against his cock, and sliding into climax.

  She dug her nails into his chest, his groans adding a sweet edge to her orgasm. But she wanted to feel more. Her body craved the overload. Was desperate for another round of the pretty lights that flashed behind her eyelids, and the whispering scent of sex.

  She raised herself enough to tug down the waistband of his shorts. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Normally a turn-off. Right now? Fucking hot.

  A guttural, primal sound tore from his chest when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

  Lisa teased them both, dragging the head of his dick along her slit, up and down, but she needed him inside. When she impaled herself on his cock, his cry threatened to undo her.

  She moved his hands back to her breasts as she rode him. A million tiny wires under her skin raced to every nerve ending, connecting the way he pinched her nipples, his gliding in and out of her, and her own fingers on her clit.

  The thrust of his hips grew faster, and he pounded inside her. He gripped her thighs hard, and his groans grew shorter and more sporadic. He was coming. She swore she felt him spill inside, even though that wasn’t possible. The image and the ghost of a sensation were enough to push her into another orgasm.

  Christ, that was intense. Her head was still trapped in the clouds. She loved this feeling. As they slowed to a stop, the world tilted and whirled.

  Lisa expected him to push her to the side, roll over, and go to sleep. That was par for the course with most—all—of her business fucks.

  He settled his hands on her hips and nudged her gently. “Stay here. Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  He kept at least one hand on her the entire time as she moved off him, even helping her lie on her back. The prone position was probably for the best until the merry-go-round in her head slowed down.

  She watched the ceiling, and the shifting pattern of shadows as the world outside passed by. She was vaguely aware of Dexter, wandering toward the bathroom, then the sound of running water, before he crossed her path again on the way to the kitchen.

  When he returned, he knelt next to her and rested a hand on her leg. He kissed up the inside of her thighs and gently drew a washcloth over her skin, wiping her clean. When he was done, he helped her sit and handed her a fucking juice box, of all things. “Slowly.”

  She sipped and grimaced. Grape was one of her least favorite flavors if it didn’t have an alcoholic content, but the cold sweetness did feel good on her throat and tongue. “You don’t need any lessons in how to make a woman happy.” Which was why she was never mixing drugs with sex and this guy ever again.

  He hovered his mouth near her ear. “The secret is treating people like people.”

  She rolled her eyes, but the words burrowed deep, planting themselves under her fading high. If Alex were here...

  It had been a long time since she’d started a thought that way. But the question didn’t evaporate. If he were still around, would he join her with Dexter? Their jobs had required them to sleep with other people, so her and Alex’s relationship was never monogamous.

  But they’d talked about expanding it, once they were out from under Jabberwock’s thumb. Maybe adding another person to the mix. Possibly even long term. She and Alex were both bisexual. If they’d met anyone they clicked with, regardless of gender, they would have expanded the boundaries of their relationship.

  If. A hypothetical that had no chance of ever being.

  As the pretty fluff and happy vibes faded, exhaustion sank in, but tension still cranked through Lisa’s body. The sun was creeping lower in the sky, and the world was rushing back.

  “We didn’t use a condom.” Her first big mistake. Another reason not to do this again. Not high. She couldn’t get pregnant—it had been a pain to find a doctor to tie her tubes at twenty, even with Sawyer’s connections, but they had. She didn’t know if Dexter was clean, though. Hadn’t even thought to ask.

  “I don’t have any STD’s, if that's your concern.” His tone was gaining that gruffness again. “Unless this is your way of telling me I’m going to have a baby in nine months.”

  “No. That’s a non-issue. I’m clean too.”

  “We should probably get some condoms, regardless.”

  She raised her brows. “You don’t have any?”

  “You’ll laugh if I tell you how long it’s been since I got laid. It’s not really an anticipation in my life.”

  A gorgeous guy like him? Lisa expected the answer was a couple of weeks. This was where she would discover what part of him was an asshole. “Try me.”

  “A year? More? Pretty sure it was spring, because the
rain was cold.”

  She didn’t laugh, but she couldn’t imagine. Then again, would she be screwing anyone if the job didn’t require it? “I’ll go get some. Condoms, I mean.” She needed to get out of here. Clear the buzz from her head. Get a little exhaust-laden air, to help add an edge back to the world. “I need to get a change of clothes, anyway. You should paint while I’m gone.”

  “It’s not tomorrow, and you shouldn’t go out yet.” Did he sound concerned?

  “I’m fine. I need to make arrangements to get a closer hotel room, too. Your place isn’t exactly equipped for me to move in.” That, and she could get real business done while he was painting, but still be within walking distance.

  “I’m telling you to wait it out. Go in the morning. We’ll turn some music on and talk.”

  She wasn’t doing any more talking. Half a day with this guy, and she’d already considered spilling secrets. “I’ll be back.” She forced herself to stand.

  “I warned you.”

  Lisa could handle herself. She buttoned up her shirt, frowning as she reached the first missing button. “Do you have any safety pins or anything?”

  He reached behind him, grabbed a shirt out of his dresser, and tossed it to her.

  “This’ll go great with the skirt and stilettos.” She held up the faded black Tee with University of FU on it.

  “You’re going to change; it’ll keep you modest until then. Unless you’re embarrassed.”

  No. She checked shame at the door a long time ago. She tugged on Dexter’s shirt and shoved her blouse in her purse. She was going to regret that later, when it was a crumpled pile of wrinkles. But it was replaceable. “Do something creative while I’m gone.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His irritation hit her back as she walked out the door.

  Noise assaulted her when she reached the street. Everything was a notch too loud, dragging over her skin like a million nails on a chalkboard.

  She dialed a familiar number while she searched for a cab.