Page 82 of Secrets That Bind Us

Verity

Eighteen Months Later

I tip my second glass of wine to my lips, relishing in the acidic taste settling over my tongue.

I blow out my breath through my nose, then swallow.

I glimpse around the upscale hotel bar– the soft lights dangling from above, the low hum of chatter going around me, and the soft cello music playing as well.

I smooth down the skirt of my little black cocktail dress, something Jake made me purchase years ago and finally fits me like a glove again since I finally lost most of the baby weight and I’m feeling slightly myself again.

Kind of . It’s my first time actually out since having the baby that wasn’t due to work.

Now that it’s summer, all the kids are home in Connecticut with their uncles– my niece and nephew they adopted just over a year ago.

Zoey and Evan are also there with their baby, all having a giant sleepover.

I was practically shoved out of the house after handing my eleven-month-old daughter Moira to Eli.

I glance around nervously again, waiting for him. I check the door for a third time but nope-- nothing yet. It’s busy for a Friday evening.

"Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?" I hear a velvety Bostonian lilt from behind me.

I peer at the empty seat next to me with a tilt of my head, lift a shoulder and let it drop. "No."

The man comes around, takes a seat, orders a drink, then sits back– spreading his thighs so his knee almost touches mine. I scoot away a bit. "So, you here alone?"

I look over at the man beside me, take in the blue of his eyes, the dimple in his cheek, the strong jawline, the slightly expensive navy suit, and the crisp white shirt he’s wearing beneath it.

His black tie is loosened a bit, telling me he’s not much for suits.

No, if I had to guess, he didn’t mind dressing up part…

It's the tie he hates. "I'm waiting for my date. "

He dips his chin. "I see. Yeah, me too. I think I got stood up, though." The bartender places a godfather in front of him and he lifts his brows with a quick “ Thanks .” And then we’re left alone again.

"It happens." I reply, looking down at my watch, noticing my date is now fifteen minutes late. I hold in the breath I want to blow out in exasperation and order another glass of wine, which is served to me quickly. I need all of the liquid courage I can get. It’s my first date in a long time.

I take a sip and let the minutes tick by, taking in the surrounding ambiance and how…

romantic it is. Or it would be if my date showed up.

I let out a soft sigh and take another sip.

"You come here often?" The gentleman to my left asks.

I roll my eyes at the come-on and finally look over at the stranger, giving him my full attention. Handsome, for sure. A little too handsome. "I don't, actually. I'm in town for the evening."

"What a coincidence. Me too."

I flip a few locks of hair over my shoulder. I did my hair, my makeup, and got waxed. I’m even wearing my contacts instead of my glasses. Ugh. All for nothing. "I'm not sure, your lilt tells me you might live here."

He takes a sip of his whiskey but peruses me again with an intense, steady gaze only to lift his lips in a wide smile, showcasing every perfect tooth. "Observant. I like that. What else do you see?”

I roll my eyes and tell him about his tie, to which he lifts the bottom of and lets it drop.

“You’re not wrong.”

I go back to my drink.

“So, sweetheart, what do you do for work?"

"Bold of you to call me a pet name when you don't even know me." I scoff.

The muscles in his strong jaw tic, but he lifts a dark brow. "Maybe I want to get to know you."

I look him over once again, feeling my own brow lift in annoyance. "Yeah? And what is it you do for work?" I query.

“Take a guess.”

“Lawyer,” I respond a little too quickly and disinterested.

He does a small shrug and lifts his tumbler to his lips, taking a barely existent sip of his whiskey.

"I'm a detective." He opens his suit jacket, giving me a quick peek at the badge inside like it’s supposed to impress or enthrall me.

He lets it fall closed, never taking his intense stare off of me. "Your turn."

“Oh yeah, a detective, huh? I didn't quite catch the name on your badge. Could be fake for all I know." I reply dryly with just a hint of sass.

He licks his bottom lip and rakes his top teeth over it, giving me a wicked grin that goes straight to my clit.

"Detective Carson, Kingston PD." He takes another sip, pointing at me when he’s done. "I’ve been watching you since you came into this place and let me tell you– I don’t think I've ever seen such a gorgeous woman my whole life. At this point, I’m fucking ecstatic that I was stood up.

So, like I said, maybe I want to get to know you.

Now you know my name... my work… Tell me about you, sweetheart.

What's a gorgeous little thing like you doing alone in a lavish hotel like this? You said you got a date, but they haven’t shown up.

It’s been thirty minutes and you’ve been alone this whole time. "

I blink at him. "Maybe I want to be alone and told you that so you’d leave me alone.

Maybe I got stood up by my date, who knows?

Maybe I'm just a single mom in town for only one night doing research for work. And maybe…” I rub my thumb over the condensation on my wine glass before flicking my eyes to find his again, still on me.

“Maybe… you don't need to know my name."

He blinks slowly, then leans in close to me, caging my knees between his, and suddenly he’s too large– instilling a little fear in me because he looks dangerous .

He lowers his voice even more, but the small warm breaths on my neck when he whispers against my ear send chills throughout my body, my nipples tightening to stiff points against the material of this little dress.

“So, you come to a place like this looking to get fucked by a stranger, huh? That was your plan for tonight?”

I don’t reply, just watching the intensity in those twin sapphires of his turn molten. “Oh yeah, I bet you’re a downright dirty-”

Oh God.

“- filthy fucking girl. You need your sweet little pussy eaten, don’t you?

You want it to be used and abused, fucked so thoroughly you can’t walk?

Don’t lie to me, sweetheart, I can practically smell you from here.

The way your cheeks are blushing and your eyes are dilating are telling me everything I need to know.

See, I’m observant, too. You said you’re here for a date, and I bet you my suite upstairs that you were hoping to get fucked so hard and into oblivion you ain’t even wearing panties.

Am I right?” he rasps, tilting his head so he can give me direct eye contact.

It’s too much.

But then I whimper because yes, he’s right.

It makes him chuckle, and his hand drops between my thighs, inching upwards.

My legs involuntarily spread, daring him to touch.

To ignite me further. His fingers trail higher until they’re on my exposed slit.

I glance away from his fiery scrutiny to see the bartender tending to other patrons, seeing everyone else is still enraptured in their own lives, not caring about us.

Just two souls trapped together in our own world we simulated together. A fantasy. But so, so real.

He swirls his finger around my clit and I inhale sharply. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” He orders me, and I do. “Jesus, baby, you’re fucking drenched .”

“Detective Carson…” I whimper.

I hold in my gasp when he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep into me, licking the corner of his lower lip, where it’s drawn up in a smirk. “Tell me, sweetheart, you ever been in cuffs?”

I swallow thickly and shake my head.

He leans back, and I follow instinctively, wanting more of his warmth to surround me, almost tumbling out of my seat.

It makes Detective Carson chuckle, then oh, so inconspicuously, he licks his fingers .

“Fuck, that’s good.” He growls, and I swear I melt.

He pulls his wallet out from the inside of his suit jacket and hands it to the bartender.

“Mine.” He says when the barkeep takes it from him, and then, “And hers.”

“I can pay for myself.” I argue pathetically.

“Oh, I'm pretty sure you can, sweetheart, but I'm old school. If I’m gonna fuck a woman without knowing her name, the least I can do is buy her drinks.” He quirks, but the fire in his eyes is anything but friendly. It’s menacing and promising further destruction.

I cross my legs and press them together to help ease the ache of his absence.

He sees the little show and stands as soon as his credit card is back in his wallet.

He holds his hand out to me. “What do you say, Sweetheart? Want to experience a night with a stranger?”

I give barely a dip of my chin, grabbing my glass of wine and downing the rest of it quickly. I catch the eye of the bartender, and he smirks my way. I send him a wink and turn to face my stranger. My muse. And take his hand.

He leads me to the empty elevator, presses a button, and encases me against the wall like he did so many years ago, reaching between my parted legs.

“I want you to know I’m going to tear you to fucking shreds, gorgeous.

Once you’re in that room, I'm not stopping. I intend to use every surface available– ruining it and you. God, you smell fucking divine.” He purrs.

“Burberry,” I choke when his fingers plunge into my soaking pussy again.

He sinks to his knees and hooks my leg over his shoulder, shoving his nose between my thighs and inhales deeply. “And this? That Burberry, too?”

“No!” I groan when his tongue flicks rapidly against my clit, his fingers fucking into me so expertly I’m already seconds away from breaking. I put my hands in his hair and shove his face deeper into my pussy, needing more of him.