To Catch A Cheat Part 25

She started to put on her T-shirt, but then thought of another idea, one she liked much better. And one Trent Jackson would like, too. What man wouldn't?

Trent sat in the desk chair and punched the speaker b.u.t.ton on the clanging phone. "Liars and cheats."

Speedy's trademark cackle echoed through the line. "You know, I'm really going to miss hearing that next week. So, how's it going, Jackson? Your dinner pa.s.s muster?"

"She ate every bite." Trent smiled at the memory of Marissa humming through each nibble of etouffee. And as he had suspected, the sweet sound had been very similar to the sound she made when she was close to o.r.g.a.s.m. It wasn't, however, the sound she made when her body actually found its release. Then, she abandoned all mild, sweet tones and screamed through the event as though her entire body were exploding. It was an incredible thing to witness, Marissa letting go, and Trent dearly hoped to see the beauty of it again. Soon.

"Is that so, Ms. Kincaid? Every bite? Can he really cook?" Coleman asked.

Trent looked at the closed bedroom door, then back at the speaker. "She'll have to tell you in a minute. I'm afraid she slept a little late and hasn't finished her shower yet."

"Well, I suppose it's a little much to expect a woman not to be late at least one day a week, huh?" Speedy asked.

"I'd watch it if I were you," Coleman warned. "Last time you said something like that on air, you had a brush mark on your forehead the next morning."

"Just kidding, honey," Speedy said. "You take all the time you want getting ready. But as for Ms. Kincaid, the only way we're really going to know what she thought of your talents in the kitchen is if she tells us herself. I mean, we believe you and all, but still . . ."

The bedroom door opened, and Marissa stepped out, while Trent tried to remember if Speedy had asked him a question. She was wearing one of his white dress shirts, and from the look of where it fell on her thighs, and the way her nipples pressed against the cotton, that was all she had on.

Trent went hard. Rock hard and ready.

"Yeah, no offense, Trent, but we really need to hear it from Marissa," Coleman said.

"What do you need to hear?" she asked silkily, walking past Trent and then sitting in the other chair. She crossed her legs, but not before he caught a glimpse of what he wanted, and he immediately remembered the way her intimate center pulsed when she climaxed, and the way she tasted on his tongue.

"Did you enjoy last night's dinner?" Speedy asked, while she slid her hands to her neck, unb.u.t.toned the top b.u.t.ton and smiled at Trent.

"Yes," she said. "It was incredible." Then she leaned toward Trent, gave him a provocative smile, and unfastened his jeans.

Have mercy.

He tried to listen to Speedy, but it was difficult, with Marissa slowly sliding his zipper down. Then she wrapped her fingers around his hard length and licked her lips.

"And what are you going to fix for Mr. Jackson tonight?" Speedy asked. "We'll need another list, if you need things that aren't in the apartment."

"Trent offered to teach me how to make etouffee," she said, getting out of her seat and lowering herself to the floor.

"You're going to fix the same thing as last night?" Speedy asked, obviously surprised.

"Yeah. This is our last night together," she said, moving her hands to the top of Trent's jeans and pulling them down. Trent lifted his hips and let her. There was no way he was going to stop Rissi Kincaid, not now, not ever, in spite of the fact that they were on the radio, broadcasting live. "If he's going to teach me how to do something, he'll have to do it tonight, right? Because we won't see each other after tomorrow morning."

Trent wanted to argue that point, particularly now, while she boldly eyed his p.e.n.i.s as though she couldn't wait to take it all. But he couldn't form words at the moment.

"Okay, if you say so, though Speedy and I still think something's up with you two," Coleman said.

Oh, something was definitely up.

"So, do you want us to get the exact same shopping list as yesterday, Trent, or do you want to change it up a bit?" Coleman asked.

Rissi brought her mouth to the base of his p.e.n.i.s, ran her tongue across his b.a.l.l.s, then sucked. Hard.

"Trent?" Coleman repeated, while Trent's jaw clenched tight, and Rissi continued thoroughly torturing him.

"Yeah," Trent finally said through gritted teeth. "The same." He had to get off the phone soon, because Rissi Kincaid was going to get him off. Soon. And he'd never been more ready in his life. Forget making it last. He wasn't going to make it through the rest of this phone call, with her tongue doing some kind of magical dance against his b.a.l.l.s. Then her mouth started up his length, sucking and nibbling until Trent wanted to yell. He slid his fingers into her s.e.xy, wispy curls and guided her mouth to the tip, then she licked the first drop away.

Trent was going to die. Right here. Right now. And there was no doubt about it; he'd die happy. If he could hang up the phone and let go.

"Just a reminder," Speedy said, and Trent vaguely realized that Coleman and Speedy had continued talking while Marissa's tongue kept moving, and he was clueless about what they'd said. He hoped it was nothing that required a response, because the only part of his body currently responding was the part that Marissa was sliding into her mouth, and letting her teeth graze along the way. "Tomorrow we'll broadcast from your apartment, and we'll award that prize, if the two of you can still claim that there's nothing more than fury between you. You know, I think we're going to have a lot of listeners who will be disappointed if you haven't mended fences, and even decided to try this cohabitation thing to a larger degree."

Trent didn't think he could get any "larger" than he was right now. But Marissa was trying to take every inch, and doing a d.a.m.n good job.

"You know, since you've mentioned it, Speedy," Coleman said, while Marissa moved back up Trent's length, then slid back down again. Up and down, sucking harder and harder. "I'm surprised that the two of them haven't, you know, found something mutually appealing in each other throughout the week. And I'll tell you the truth, I'm still thinking that tomorrow morning, they'll tell us they don't want the prize, and that they've decided to give a relationship a go, feuding websites and dueling webzines and all." Then Coleman spoke directly to Trent and Marissa. "You two have to admit, you'd have plenty to talk about at the dinner table each night," he said. "Do the two of you really think you'll be able to walk away tomorrow and not even talk again for a year? That's the deal, you know. Twelve months of no interaction, or you'll forfeit the prize. I mean, this is a guy who's willing to teach you how to make etouffee, Marissa," he said jokingly. "And in all honesty, the two of you haven't seemed to be fighting this week in our broadcasts. In fact, I'd say flirting was the more accurate term."

"I agree," Speedy said. "And that's the consensus of our listeners, too. Go on, Marissa, admit it. You two really want to see where things can go, and you don't care about the prize. Trent's already admitted that he doesn't want the prize; he wants you. And like he says on the phone, liars and cheats. They go together." Speedy laughed loudly.

She moved her mouth off of Trent long enough to answer. "Sorry, Speedy," she said. "But today is is our last day together. It has to be." Then she pulled the tip of Trent's p.e.n.i.s into her mouth and drew the entire length in again. our last day together. It has to be." Then she pulled the tip of Trent's p.e.n.i.s into her mouth and drew the entire length in again.

"Well, I guess she's made up her mind, huh, Jackson?" Speedy asked, while Marissa's fingers clutched Trent's hips and she began to move faster, up and down his length, running her tongue around the tip with every pa.s.s. Trent closed his eyes and lost himself in the intoxicating pleasure of her mouth and tongue and teeth. "Is that what you think, Trent? That she's decided what she wants, the prize, and she's going for it?"

"Yeah," Trent said, the single word painful to produce while he was holding back on the o.r.g.a.s.m.

"But you said you want Ms. Kincaid. Is that still the case?" Coleman asked. "And are you going to try to change her mind today?"

Marissa's fingers dug in deeper, mouth clamped down harder, and Trent answered. "Yes."

"Care to tell us how?" Speedy asked.

"No." Trent slammed the speaker b.u.t.ton to disconnect, then lost himself in the power of his release. And in the power of Rissi.

Slow and easy is very overrated.

-MARISSA K KINCAID

Chapter 21.

I still can't believe you basically hung up on them." Marissa sc.r.a.ped the spoon against the bottom of her bowl, then licked the last bit of bread pudding away. It was a good thing she was only going to be with Trent another day; any longer and she'd gain twenty pounds. The guy could seriously cook. She smiled at him, then dished out another spoonful of his delicious creation. "By the way, this is amazing." still can't believe you basically hung up on them." Marissa sc.r.a.ped the spoon against the bottom of her bowl, then licked the last bit of bread pudding away. It was a good thing she was only going to be with Trent another day; any longer and she'd gain twenty pounds. The guy could seriously cook. She smiled at him, then dished out another spoonful of his delicious creation. "By the way, this is amazing."

He took another bite of his, swallowed, then finally spoke. And it was about time. He hadn't said a word since she'd pleasured him and then p.r.o.nounced it was time for breakfast. Obviously, he wasn't used to a woman getting him off while he conversed on the phone. Then again, he didn't do a whole lot of conversing, did he? She grinned again. She'd never done anything like that before in her life, and there was something mighty empowering knowing she could bring the CEO of Jackson Enterprises to his knees. Or rather, bring herself to her knees and render him practically speechless in the process. Very empowering indeed. In fact, she might do it again. She licked the spoon.

"Now who's c.o.c.ky?" he asked, taking her attention from the food, and back to the man who tasted just as good.

"Me," she answered.

He laughed. "What would you have done if they'd figured out exactly what was happening on this end of the line?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I wasn't exactly thinking; I was too busy doing."

"I'll say you were." He shook his head, then took another bite of his pudding. He was still on his first bowl, and Marissa was on her second, or was it her third? Who'd have known that having five o.r.g.a.s.ms through the night and then giving Trent one really would work up her appet.i.te? "I take it we're forgoing working for our respective companies today?" he asked.

She smiled. "I called Gary and told him I was taking the day off."

"When?"

"After my shower," she said easily, and enjoyed watching the way his eyes smoldered as he processed this information. She'd slated out the whole day for s.e.x, with him, and he appeared to be pleased. "Called him from the bedroom before I came out, since I wasn't sure exactly how long that-phone call-would take. Didn't take all that long," she said, smirking, and knowing that that would get a response. would get a response.

Trent didn't disappoint. "Trust me, darling, when I'm not trying to carry on a phone conversation, on live radio, and when I'm not shocked out of my mind with your choice of clothing, or your unexpected approach, that-phone call-will last much longer."

"We only have one more day for you to prove that," she said, both to remind him that she really planned on this ending tomorrow, and to remind her heart of the same thing.

"So you say." He leaned back in his chair and watched her lick her spoon. "I suppose you're expecting me to take the day off, too?"

"You do own the company."

He grinned at that. "Yeah, I do. And if I take the day off, what do you plan on us doing?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"On what Amy sent. Why don't you get it and see what we got?"

Obviously perplexed, he stood and left the breakfast nook, then returned with the brown box and placed it on the table. "This isn't a Boston Market care package?"

"Oh, it's a care package all right, but it's not from Boston Market," she said, anxious to see what Amy had packed, and to see Trent's reaction. "Open it."

He lifted one end of the thick strip of packing tape holding the top in place, pulled it across, then lifted the lid.

"Well?" she asked, lifting her hips off the chair as she attempted to peer over the top. "What do we have?" She felt like a kid on Christmas morning, except in this case, the biggest present was the guy opening the package.

Trent lifted a bottle that Marissa instantly recognized. "That's Landon's newest edible ma.s.sage oil. Caramel apple flavor."

"Edible ma.s.sage oil," he said appreciatively, placing it on the table. Then he removed a big purple glove covered in tiny nubs, put it on one hand and rubbed his other palm over the stubby extensions. "Dare I ask?"

"You don't read my e-zine, do you?" she accused. "AtlantaTellAll. Have you ever ever read it?" read it?"

He frowned slightly. "I've looked it over, since our web war began."

"Did you read Amy's column?"

"Where she answers s.e.x questions? Yeah, I may have skimmed it."

Marissa laughed. "You read it, and you liked it. You may have noticed that she usually recommends a product or two from Landon's company, which was where she worked, too, before she had Bo." She pointed to the glove. "That's a smitten, and she described it in one of last month's issues. You cover it with the edible ma.s.sage oil, give your partner a ma.s.sage that feels like tiny b.u.t.terflies covering his or her skin, and then, you lick it off."

"You sound like you have firsthand knowledge," he said, then lifted a brow while he waited for her answer.

"Hah," Marissa said, shaking her head. "I've thought about using Amy's recommendations plenty of times, but haven't met the right guy for the part. Now, some of the items for solo performances, like Pinky, I've tried."

"Since she brought this care package to us, she must have dubbed me the right guy for the part, as far as you're concerned?"

"Evidently so," Marissa said. "But we've only got a day, so we shouldn't waste time."

"And this is the same woman who said she didn't want to have s.e.x with me?"

"It's difficult not to want to have s.e.x with the guy who gave you the best o.r.g.a.s.ms of your life," she said honestly. Might as well put it all out there, since she wouldn't see him after tomorrow.

"The best, huh?" Then he grinned. "Well, in all honesty, Ms. Kincaid, I've never had an o.r.g.a.s.m like the one you gave me this morning, either. Something about trying to carry on a normal conversation while you're using your talented tongue on me ranks that o.r.g.a.s.m at the top as well."

She lifted her nose in the air and smiled triumphantly. "Mission accomplished."

"And the fact that you entered wearing my shirt didn't hurt the prelude aspect either," he added. "I almost came just looking at you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she said, as he lifted a small package from the box. "Ooh, those are the flavored ones," she said, eyeing the multicolored condoms.

"Flavored," he repeated.

"They make musical ones, too, but I don't guess she included any of those."

"Musical ones?" he questioned, and Marissa giggled. She was instructing him on s.e.x toys. How cool was that?

"Yeah. You can get Happy Birthday, or the Wedding March, but the most popular in Atlanta is still Dixie."

"I have to say I'm glad she left those out," he said, stifling his laughter.

"They're really very popular," Marissa said, "according to her column in my e-zine, which you should read, by the way."

"Trust me, I won't miss another of Amy's insightful columns." He lifted the last item from the box. "Okay. I'll bite. What do we do with this?"

Marissa smiled. She'd always wanted to try the two-person vibrator that Amy labeled the "thriller," and now was her chance. "You see that ring, with all the hard little nubs around it?"

"Yeah."

"Put your fingers through it," she instructed, her excitement growing at the prospect of everything they could do-would do-before the day ended. "Amy showcased this one in our first issue of AtlantaTellAll."

Trent slid three fingers into the center of the circle, while Marissa unwound the cord from the remote control. "This part will rub against me, directly on my c.l.i.toris," she said, pointing to the gel-covered tiny vibrator, "and that will surround your p.e.n.i.s." She pointed to the circle currently encasing his fingers. "Now check this out." She pushed the switch on the remote and slid the control to high, while the entire thing pulsated wickedly in his hand.

"You ever used one of these before?" he asked, his voice raspy and undeniably aroused.

"No, but I've always wanted to."