Pure Pleasures Read online

  I squared my shoulders and raised my chin. My heart was still broken and I had a feeling I'd cry myself to sleep more than once over the next few weeks, but I was ready to move on. The first step was figuring out what I was going to do next.

  I needed to go back to my apartment to get some clothes and I needed to figure out what I wanted to do for work. I hadn't exactly been thinking about work other than a vague idea that I'd return to my previous business. Now, however, I wasn't so sure that would be the best idea. If I kept working in security or any sort of tech support, the chances of me not running into Rylan were low. After all, the first time we'd had sex had been at a tech conference that we'd attended separately.

  I couldn't take seeing him again, not like that. I'd never be able to concentrate. I needed to find something else to do. Keeping busy was usually a good way to get my mind off things. I'd go back to the hotel and start making a list of what I needed to do, including a second list of possible jobs.

  The cab was halfway to the hotel when my phone rang. I swore as I dug into my pocket for it. I'd forgotten to turn it back off after calling Dr. MacLeod last night. I'd almost hit the reject button when I saw that it wasn't Rylan calling. I had a moment of sadness that he'd stopped trying to reach me and then answered the phone.

  “Agent Matthews,” I said.

  Raymond Matthews had been the FBI agent who'd come to Archer Enterprises to ask for my permission to give Christophe a deal that would allow the FBI to go after several other pedophiles. I hadn't particularly liked him at first since he hadn't been the most sympathetic of people, but he was genuine in his desire to help.

  “Miss Lang.”

  “I'm really hoping you aren’t calling to tell me that Christophe is going to go free without any penalty.” My voice sounded dry, but my heart began to race at the thought of Christophe roaming free with only a restraining order in place to keep him away from me and Rylan.

  “No, they're still working on his deal and he's still out on bail.” He paused, and then continued, “You haven't seen him, have you?”

  “No.” I involuntarily looked out the window as the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel. There were a couple people outside, but none of them were Christophe and none of them even looked twice at me. With regular hair and clothes, there wasn't much about me to attract attention.

  “What I'm actually calling about, Miss Lang, is a job offer.”

  “What?” I had to have misheard him. The FBI didn't offer jobs to people like me.

  “I have a job proposal for you,” he said. “I'd prefer to give you the details in person.”

  “You do remember that the last time we saw each other, I needed to sign a paper because I'd done some illegal things in my past, right?” I kept my tone light.

  “I remember,” he said. He almost sounded amused. “I also remember that the paper you signed gave you immunity.”

  “From prosecution, not from vetting for a federal job.”

  He laughed, a rusty noise, like he didn't do it very often. “Trust me, Miss Lang. I wouldn't come to you with this unless my superiors had already approved it.”

  Now I was curious. What would be so important that the director of the FBI would be willing to overlook a criminal past as well as my own rather unorthodox appearance? Granted, I at least had normal-colored hair now, but I was still far from what a federal agent should look like.

  “When do you want to see me?”

  “Monday morning, if at all possible. I'm supposed to head back to DC for a debriefing on Tuesday. I'll come down to the police station in Fort Collins rather than making you come to Denver.”

  Maybe this was the out I'd been looking for. If nothing else, it was worth a shot. “I'll be there at eight.”

  “I'll see you then.”

  Chapter 5

  I was hoping that Rylan had missed enough work Monday looking for me that he had to work today even though it was Saturday. Or maybe he was working to stop himself from thinking about me. Either way, I hoped he wasn't staking out my apartment. That actually sounded a bit creepier when I thought of it like that.

  He wasn't there, so it didn't matter anyway. A part of me was a bit hurt that he seemed to have given up so easily, but that was a good thing. At least that's what I told myself. If he wasn't looking for me anymore, that meant he'd accepted that I didn't want to see him or talk to him. I hoped that meant he'd move on quickly. It was excruciatingly painful to think of Rylan with someone else, enough to make my eyes swim with tears and my lungs constrict painfully, but I knew I'd done the right thing.

  I walked into my apartment, the pain in my heart increasing until I could barely breathe. All of my things were in boxes. Not that there were many of them. I owned enough clothes, but not in excess. My kitchen things were going to go in storage until I decided where I wanted to donate them. Everything was clearly marked. I hadn't wanted us to take more time than necessary cleaning out things here. I'd wanted to be home...

  I closed my eyes and began counting, focusing on each agonizing beat of my heart. As my breathing eased, I opened my eyes and walked over to the box of my clothes. I couldn't resist a quick glance into my bedroom. My bedroom suite was still there. I couldn't tell if I was happy or disappointed. Glad that I still had it, but sad that he hadn't still had the movers take it. I knew what it meant. He didn't believe I would be coming back to him.

  I let the pain wash over me, through me, and then I let it go. I opened one of the boxes and began to take out some of the clothes. I moved quickly, not wanting to be here any longer than necessary. There were too many memories. Memories of before; when my life had been simple. Memories of Christophe. Of Rylan. There were too many ghosts here for me to linger.

  I repacked one of the other boxes so that I had a mix of clothing types and picked that one up. I'd asked the cab to wait for me, not wanting to have to walk, take a bus or try to flag down another cab with my arms full. Yet another reason why I wanted to do this quickly.

  I put the box on the seat next to me and asked the driver to take me back to the hotel. I'd called my landlord on the way in and let him know that I wasn't sure if I'd be moving or not. I promised to let him know as soon as I did if I was staying or going. Fortunately, I still had some time left on my lease and enough money for a couple of weeks in the hotel and to pay my rent.

  By the time I took my box upstairs to my room and unpacked my clothes into the dresser, I was exhausted. It was barely noon, but all I wanted to do was sleep. I knew it was a symptom of my lingering depression, but I couldn't fight it anymore. Maybe if I had something else to do, I could force myself into activity, but there wasn't anything else I needed to do. Exercise and practicing my self-defense was usually a good way to try to keep things at bay, but I didn't want to leave my room again. Not with Christophe and Rylan both out there.

  I glanced at the bottle of sleeping pills, debated for a second and then took one of them. Not enough to knock me out, but enough to make me feel drowsy. I stretched out on the bed and waited for sleep to claim me.

  I smiled at him as I walked through the door. He'd left a trail of rose petals from the front door all the way to the playroom, the scent filling the house. The playroom was lit with candles, all carefully placed so that the room glowed. The bed had been remade with red silk sheets. It was like something out of a dream or a romance novel.

  Rylan stood next to the bed, clothed only in shadows. I could see the outline of his muscular body, those broad shoulders and narrow waist. I let my eyes drop lower and appreciate the long, thick shaft curving up to his flat stomach. My pussy throbbed at the sight of him and I stepped further into the room and shut the door behind me.

  “Show me.” His voice was low, husky.

  I obediently untied my robe and let it slide from my shoulders, revealing what I was wearing beneath. I wasn't entirely sure why I'd been wearing lingerie and a robe when I'd come into the house, but I wasn't about to waste time thinking right now. I just wanted to see the exp
ression on Rylan's face when he saw what I was wearing.

  The panties were sheer, wide enough in front to cover the essentials and only a strip in the back, leaving my ass bare. The bra was low cut, barely covering my nipples, which were tight and pointed. The straps were done like a halter-top, lace tied behind my neck. My stockings ended just above my knee, attached to a pair of garters around my thighs.

  To finish things out, I wore a pair of high heels, almost too high for me to walk comfortably, but I managed it – slowly, gracefully – swaying my hips as I walked.

  Rylan let out a whistle, but all he said was, “Kneel.”

  I did as I was told, my stomach tightening at the authority in his voice. He walked over to me and cupped my chin, raising my face so that we could look at each other.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “You,” I said. “Always you.”

  He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip and I darted my tongue out to flick it against the pad of his thumb. He made a low sound.

  “Open.”

  I opened my mouth and he slid his cock between my lips. The weight of it was heavy on my tongue, the taste of him making me wet. He put his hand on my head and looked down at me for permission. My eyes gave it to him. I didn't need a safe word. I trusted him.

  He rocked his hips, slowly at first, and then faster. I relaxed my throat, letting him use my mouth as he wanted. I kept my hands clasped behind my back, but my fingers itched to touch him, to cup his balls, caress them. To feel his tight ass under my hands. Digging my nails in and holding him to me, my lips stretched wide around his base as I took all of him. And then he was coming and I was swallowing, savoring every drop as I worked my tongue around his softening shaft.

  He gripped my arms and pulled me to my feet. His mouth covered mine, his tongue thoroughly exploring my mouth, tasting himself. He lowered me to the bed, his lips moving from mine to move across my jaw and down my neck. His fingers were at the back of my neck and then the bra loosened, allowing him to hook his finger in the cups, pulling them down under my breasts. He cupped one in each hand before his fingers went to my nipples, skillfully manipulating them. Twisting, pulling. Pain mixed with pleasure as he began to alternate between the breasts, sucking and nibbling until my entire body felt like it was on fire.

  I spread my legs as one hand slid down between them. He chuckled as he cupped my pussy.

  “You're soaked, love,” he murmured against my mouth. “Is that for me?”

  “Only you,” I breathed, arching up into his touch. My eyes were closed, every sensation like electricity racing across my nerves, a not-quite-painful prickle that only he could give me. I'd never felt anything like it before. None of my previous lovers had ever been able to make me feel like this.

  “What do you want, love?”

  “You.” I squirmed against his hand, but he didn't give me the friction I needed. “Please, I need you.”

  I whimpered as a finger slipped under the wet fabric, teasing me even as his mouth latched onto my nipple again. He sucked hard, drawing a cry from me that turned into a wail as he shoved his finger inside. He crooked it, pressing against that spot inside me and I came. Using mouth and hand, he coaxed every last bit of pleasure from me before he moved up above me.

  He pulled my arms above my head, pinning them there with a hand wrapped around my wrists. His grip tightened until I gasped and he captured the sound with his mouth, a bruising kiss that made my lips throb and my body tighten.

  I started to reach for him, but found myself bound, the chill of metal against my skin. The handcuffs were loose enough that I could manipulate the release catch if I needed to, but I didn't even consider it.

  “Rylan,” I protested as he moved off of me. He paused by the side of the bed, raising an eyebrow in a question I knew all too well. I nodded. The game would continue.

  He walked over to one of the chests of toys and began rummaging around inside. When he picked up a small, thin dildo, barely the size of one of his fingers, my heart skipped a beat. We'd talked about it, but never done it. He knew how brutally I'd been used and had never wanted to risk making me feel that way again. He held it up and waited for me to nod again.

  He kissed my knee, my thigh, as he slid off my panties and tossed them aside. His free hand slowly slid up and down my leg as he settled. I shivered as his thumb brushed over my clit, then moaned as I felt his finger slide inside. A moment later, it withdrew and trailed further down. Coated with my own juices, his finger eased into my ass, gently stretching until he knew I was ready. I could smell the cinnamon-scented lube he'd used on the dildo and I closed my eyes, focusing on that. It didn't exactly hurt as he slid it into place, but the burn and stretch was both familiar and unfamiliar. He moved slowly, thumb still moving across my clit so that the sensations mingled and created a totally different kind of burn.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I opened my eyes and looked at him. He would stop, I knew, if I asked it, but I could see the desire in his eyes. Not just desire for me, but for my pleasure. He wanted this for me as much as for himself. He knew my body, knew what I needed almost better than I did. Sometimes there wasn't even an 'almost' there.

  “I trust you.”

  He swallowed hard and I could see his emotions blazing in his eyes. My trust meant as much to him as my love, I knew, because he understood that I didn't give either easily.

  He leaned over me, his mouth soft against mine. It was a chaste kiss, but it burned a path down through me, a gentler sort of heat that strengthened rather than tempered what was already there. His eyes locked on mine as he entered me. He took his time, allowing us both to enjoy the feel of something new. The dildo wasn't big enough to make this too tight, but it was enough to change the way he rubbed against me.

  I closed my eyes, the sensations too much as my muscles twitched, squeezing both of the shafts inside me. Rylan cursed and stilled. I could feel his thighs shaking against mine and knew he was fighting for control. A surge of love went through me. The fact that I could make a man like him come undone...and I knew it wasn't only my body that did it to him.

  “Open your eyes.” The words were rough, almost harsh.

  I did as I was told, looking up at that face I loved so much. I didn't love him for his beauty. That was only a bonus. I loved him for his mind, his heart, his soul, the things that made him so different from anyone else I'd ever met.

  I stared into those near-purple depths as he began to move. His strokes were hard and deep, but not fast. My body moved with him, the rhythm of our love-making an unconscious thing, as it had always been. We were one body, engaged in the sort of ancient dance that billions had done before us and would do again after we were long forgotten.

  My hands were suddenly free though I didn't remember working the clasps and I buried my hands in his hair, pulling his face down to mine. We didn't kiss, only rested our foreheads together as we chased the release that would, for a few glorious moments, defy the laws of physics and make us a single entity. And that was what I'd always wanted, what I'd craved. I'd experienced the physical pleasure of an orgasm from other sexual encounters, but with Rylan, it was different. Pure, somehow, as if being in love changed the very nature of things.

  I hovered on the edge, fighting my body to hold on a little bit longer. I pressed my lips against his ear. “Come with me, my love.”

  When it hit us, I found myself swept under the wave, gasping and shaking, unable to breathe or think. It was too much. I had lost myself and was adrift, unable to find my way back. And then he was there, his arms tight around me, our bodies joined.

  “I'm here,” he whispered fiercely. “I have you and I'm never letting go. I've got you.”

  I woke with tears still streaming down my cheeks.

  Chapter 6

  I studied my reflection with a critical eye. I was paler than usual, but it was winter, so I doubted anyone would think anything of it. I'd managed to hide the dark circles under my eyes with make-
up and even though my clothes felt a bit loose, I hadn't lost enough weight for it to really be noticeable to anyone. I'd chosen one of my few conservative outfits: black dress pants, a plain white blouse and a black jacket. I'd always thought that it made me look like some sort of government agent, so I supposed it was my best bet. I didn't, however, have any decent shoes to wear, not in this kind of weather anyway. It had been snowing on and off all week and all of Fort Collins was blanketed in at least six inches of the stuff. No way was I wearing anything other than boots.

  As I headed downstairs, I rubbed my palms against my pant legs. I wasn't sure why I was nervous. I was only meeting with Agent Matthews. It wasn't like I was being taken in for questioning or even having to face Christophe. It was only a job interview.

  Right. I snorted a laugh, earning a disapproving look from the woman standing next to me at the bus stop. I ignored her. A job interview with the FBI. It still didn't seem real.

  The bus dropped me off across the street from the police station and I gave myself a moment to steady my nerves before crossing and heading inside. The officer at the desk gave me a polite smile and pointed me towards the office Agent Matthews was using. I had to admit, it was an advantage to having changed my appearance. If I'd come in with my usual dress and blue hair, I doubted I would've been sent straight back on my own.

  “Miss Lang.” Agent Matthews stood as I entered the room and held out his hand. I shook it and he motioned for me to have a seat. “Thank you for coming in.”

  “I have to admit,” I said as I sat. “I hadn't seen this coming.”

  He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Trust me, I hadn't either.”

  “Then where did this come from?”

  “You told the ADA that you'd hacked into some government systems to erase your previous identity as well as damaging any files containing your name or image,” he began. “So I decided to take a closer look at you.”

  I folded my hands on my lap and hoped that the agent couldn't see how hard I was gripping them together.