The Arrangement Page 3

  Everyone was still talking. As Sasha learned for the first time that it was okay for someone to be strong for two people, Eric asked what she would like to do. Where would she like to go?

  She glanced at Aida and Clinton holding hands as they spoke with Lena, Zachary, and Ruby. “Lena said we could go out for dinner.”

  “Is that what you’d like?”

  “I don’t know. But I know we should celebrate. I just don’t . . . I’m not sure if I’m up for going out.” She blushed. “I’d rather be in sweats and sleep until the next century.”

  “And deprive me of your eyes?” Eric teased her. His eyes warmed as her blush got more vivid. “How’s this. I’ll have dinner catered. Back at the loft. We won’t have to do anything. But let’s invite Gladys, of course, and Adrian and Monica Massey.”

  “Really? But Eric, we don’t have to do this right away.”

  “I know. But people are in a celebratory mood. You don’t have to do anything - ”

  “But you need rest too - ”

  He cut off her protest with a kiss. She was quick to clutch at the collar of his shirt, crushing the fine fabric. “I want to do this. I’ll take care of everything,” he said, grinning as she blinked at him.

  She had to laugh. How can she forget that when Eric put his mind to something, it got done? “Alright.”

  So Eric announced that there would be dinner at their loft tonight at eight o’clock. People wouldn’t have to bring anything, just their appetites. Everyone whooped in approval.

  As they headed out of the courtroom, Lena linked her arm through Sasha’s. Her hazel eyes glowed as she looked at the younger woman.

  “You’re already looking better, my dear,” she remarked as they walked. “I’m so proud of you for standing up to that bastard.”

  Sasha bowed her head. “I wouldn’t have if not for what Eric gave me.”

  “Yes. The boy helped.” It was amusing for Eric to be referred to as a boy. He was thirty-eight years old. “But in the end,” she said, taking Sasha’s hand in hers, “you chose to fight, Sasha. Whatever name you have, no matter how much money you have, or friends and family, if you don’t choose to fight, the monster wins.”

  Sasha was touched. “I’ve missed going to your place, Lena.”

  “Me too, dear. But you shouldn’t ever think of replacing your husband with my company,” Lena teased her. Her smile was knowing as she looked at Eric. He was surrounded by people now. “A handsome one, your man. He clearly cares about you.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully. Sensing he was being stared at, Eric smiled at her. She bowed her head, then raised her eyes. He was still looking at her. It prompted an embarrassed smile from her. He seemed satisfied because he winked then turned to Aida to listen to what she was saying.

  Does he? Sasha wondered, pondering on Lena’s comment. Last night, she felt . . . no, she was sure that Eric loved her. He had trusted her with his darkest secrets, had seen her at her weakest and worst. Yes, he helped her. Married her so she would have the power of his name and all that it entailed. Yet . . .

  It was hurting her heart, hoping.

  But she must. She did.

  “I’ve always laughed at the idea of anything romantic. Silly, wish-washy yearnings perpetrated by ridiculous songs and those silly novels and fairy tales,” Lena continued. “But the way the Cohen boy put himself out for you, it reminds me of the tale of the rogue knight who rescued a girl from a wolf.”

  Every kid who grew up in their era knew of that tale. Sasha never believed in fairy tales. They were pretty stories meant to give one hope in this world.

  No. Their story was nothing like a fairy tale. Not even close. Eric did what he did because he believed it was the right thing to do. He had no inclination to be a hero or a knight.

  “Fairy tales don’t tell you what happened after the girl was rescued,” she pointed out. “Maybe the girl was pissed because the knight put himself in danger given his condition. She could have handled herself.”

  “But what matters is he still helped her. He rescued her when no one else did. Oh, for such a man to be real,” Lena mused.

  Eric and Sasha took a cab home. Once past the door, Eric picked up the phone to start making calls. Sasha offered to help, but he shooed her away, covering the mouthpiece and urging her to rest.

  In their room, Sasha unzipped her dress. Her panties were still in Eric’s jacket. Naked, she went to the hamper and found his used, plain white t-shirt. It smelled faintly of his sweat and cologne but not unpleasant. She took a deep whiff before putting it on.

  She was under the sheets when Eric went to the room. The shuffle of his clothes told her he was removing them. Then he was in bed with her, an arm sliding around her waist to pull her to the warm wall of his chest. She turned, opening her eyes.

  “You should be resting,” he scolded her gently. As he spoke, his hand lowered, palming her buttocks. He smiled as her eyelashes fluttered at him, color spreading across her face.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. They’ll start setting up at six.” He drew her closer until his erection pressed against her stomach. He closed his eyes. “Try to sleep, Sasha. You’ve earned it.”

  Blood pounded in Sasha’s head. Yes, she was tired. Heavy weights pressed her eyes. But she was warm. Her pussy was aching. As it bloomed to a burning emptiness, her heart beat erratically. She wanted to put everything behind her. She needed her husband.

  Her rapid breathing made him open his eyes, just in time to see her hand reach under the sheets for his cock. He didn’t stop her. Instead, his hips thrust against her hand.

  “I need you so much,” she confessed, resigned to this want for Eric that grew after every time they fucked. Every time he fucked her, she was reminded of the times when he wasn’t. Her lower lip trembled as he stared back at her. The moss of his eyes slowly darkened to the color of the forest with every stroke of her hand. The flesh of his cock was stretched taut. Velvet over hard steel.

  “I’m here,” he grunted against her lips.

  “Please say you want to,” she pleaded, pausing in touching him.

  Eric’s answer was to seize her face and kiss her mouth. Her sigh shook against his tongue as they kissed, mouths sparring gently and wide. He drew her over him, so she had to throw her leg over his hips. His arms were tight around her waist. His cock throbbed against her stomach.

  She straightened up, hair in her face, her eyes seeking him through the snarls. He pressed his palm on her hot cheek, and she kissed it, fully but too quickly. Then she took his cock again. A sharp wince took over her face as she struggled to get him inside her. A pink flush spread across her chest, but Eric held her hips, stilling her. He looked like a man caught between heaven and hell.

  “There’s no need to rush, pretty,” he groaned. Something stirred in her as he called her with that old nickname. “We have all the time in the world.”

  “But I want you now,” she tried to protest before he was tugging her down and taking another kiss from her mouth.

  Eric caught her, locked his leg around her hip then brought her flat on her back on the bed. She gasped, but it was of surprise. He kissed her again.

  “All the time in the world, Sasha,” he repeated. “Do you trust me?”

  “I do.”

  “What happens when you do?”

  Her smile was a mix of anticipation and delight. She lay fully on her back, stacking her hands under her head and spreading her legs. “Maybe I need reminding.” Her flirtatious reply brought a twinkle in his eyes. “A lot of reminding.”

  “I’ll take my time, then” he drawled just before getting to work.

  Eric had never hosted an event by himself before. Always, it was Aida and somebody from the museum organizing it, and he only had to show up, with much resistance. He complained about having to be in a monkey suit and making nice with buyers and sponsors, annoying Aida. Clinton would have to literally step between them, yelling at Eric for not appreciating his
wife’s efforts and threatening to castrate him if he couldn’t be pleasant for one fucking hour.

  This time, pleasantries were no trouble. Sasha was at his side, blushing and fumbling with words despite the company of old friends. It was sweet how she tried to be cool and elegant, but that wasn’t his wife. He wouldn’t change one damn thing about her.

  While the caterers were setting up downstairs, Eric and Sasha were in their walk-in closet. Supposedly, they were getting ready. But now that they didn’t have the case hanging over them like the most unwelcome specter, his hunger for his wife was insatiable. They were fucking against the wall, Eric grinning at the alternating expressions of surprise and shock on Sasha’s face when the doorbell rang. He had to drag her from the wall and put her on the floor, unleashing hungry kisses on her mouth and throat, plucking at her swollen nipples while his cock pounded inside her greedy tight pussy so they would come hard and fast. He had to help her into a robe while he yanked on a t-shirt over his dress pants to get the door.

  Lena and Ruby were the first to arrive, ten minutes before everyone was expected. Lena frowned at Eric’s t-shirt before she strutted ahead of Ruby. The women had boxes and bags from an expensive boutique.

  “You’ll have to get ready elsewhere, young man,” Lena declared, looking sharply at the catering staff before nodding at the stairs. “I assume Sasha is in the bedroom?”

  Without waiting for his reply, she climbed up. Ruby at least offered to take his suit to him, but it was important he didn’t peek in at what they were doing. Eric had to bite back a smile at Sasha having to deal with her friends while her thighs were still wet with his semen.

  So he got dressed in the bathroom, putting on the rest of the suit Ruby brought to him. Clinton and Aida arrived next, shortly followed by Zachary and Gladys. She was six months pregnant, and though her eyes were tired, her smile was warm as she hugged Eric. She took his hand and let him feel her daughter kicking.

  Adrian and Monica Massey were the last to arrive. Ruby introduced her parents to Eric. The Masseys and Cohens didn’t exactly move in the same circles, but they had heard of each other.

  Adrian, with his dark hair, gray eyes, and grim face, looked like the bearer of bad news. He was thick-figured but not fat - there was no softness in the man. Monica had auburn hair and clear, blue-gray eyes. Despite her age, her classic features still made her a beautiful and arresting woman. Ruby took after her.

  Halfway through the expected pleasantries, Lena brought Sasha down the stairs. Eric swallowed hard at the sight of his wife.

  Beside him was Zachary. He too was looking at Sasha smiling and blushing as people greeted her. “Exactly the type you’d fuck, isn’t she?” He whispered.

  Sasha’s pale hair was softly-tousled around her cheeks. Black eyeliner highlighted the intense blueness of her eyes, and her lipstick was vivid red. Her full lips and wide mouth looked like a rose in bloom.

  She was wearing a black pantsuit. It was sleeveless with a high neckline and flowing pants that just about skimmed the floor if not for her heels. He caught her eye and smiled. Sasha blushed and turned away to listen to something Aida was saying to her. When she did, she revealed that her suit had left out the entire back.

  Oh, good lord. He was going to come just seeing the wild splash of freckles on her back.

  “Talk about my wife like that again,” he told Zachary although his strained voice removed what venom his delivery was supposed to have, “and I’ll knock your teeth out.”

  Unfazed, Zachary retorted, “It’s a compliment.”

  Eric went to Sasha’s side. He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss on her shoulder before looking up at her. The top of his head brushed her chin. He was proud to be at her side. His arm went around her waist while his hand took hers to his lips. The pink and red spread across her face down to her chest, and her darkening eyes made him wish for canvas and paint.

  “You look sensational,” he whispered to her. Another rush of red swept through her cheeks.

  “Thank you,” she whispered back.

  Aida, in her usual, take-charge way, oversaw the caterers. Clinton was at her side as she directed them, a besotted look on his face. Eric would laugh, but he was sure to be wearing an identical expression. When his brother and his wife rejoined the crowd, he saw Clinton tug at Aida’s hand. She bent to him. From the big smile on her face, either Clinton had told her something sweet but romantic or very inappropriate but romantic. What did he know about these things? But Aida kissed Clinton and giggled.

  “Eric?” Sasha was talking to him. He quickly turned to her.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “My mind was elsewhere. What were you saying?”

  “I was going to ask about Spencer?” She bit her lower lip.

  Eric looked at their hands.

  Spencer had nothing against Sasha. He was sure about this. But the old beast didn’t want to contribute to the media circus surrounding the trial already. They’ve been leaving the courthouse through back exits to avoid reporters. With the guilty verdict now out, it was only a matter of time before reporters started camping out of their doorway again. Eric’s address and phone number were unlisted although it was just a matter of time. Sasha’s studio was still being besieged by the nosy press, according to Lena.

  Spencer had a good reason to be not there, but Eric couldn’t just accept it. His wife, a complete innocent, had been dragged through shit and all types of hell. Spencer’s presence would have done so much.

  His father’s absence at crucial moments shouldn’t be a surprise anymore. He may have been in the house that summer following Tina’s death but made it clear he was unavailable. There was no good excuse for why Eric and his childhood best friend Tallulah turned to each other the way they had, but if Spencer had just opened the door, maybe things would be different. Hugely different.

  But he wasn’t there when Eric hit rock bottom. It was Clinton and Aida. When he tried to get back on his feet, it was his brother again, his friends. When Eric confessed to sleeping with Tallulah after her death, Spencer had not wanted to hear a word of it.

  Eric hugged Sasha to his side. “He couldn’t be here.” He was never asked, but what was the point when he knew the answer?

  Sasha seemed to accept his answer because she said nothing more. He was thinking about kissing her, of maybe smudging her lipstick a little, when she turned those brilliant eyes on him and said, “We should see him one of these days. It’s been a while.”

  He rubbed her back. Her skin was so soft. It was making him breathe faster. “You’re sure?”

  She shrugged. “He scares me, but we must still see him.”

  Eric kissed her. At last. But it was over too fast. “How can you still be afraid of Spencer after everything, my sweetheart?”

  She blushed at his endearment. He kissed her again, this time on the cheek.

  “You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for,” he told her sincerely.

  “It’s because of you,” she was quick to say.

  “I nudged and pushed you. You did the rest.”

  “You married me.”

  They looked at each other silently.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice catching. “I did.”

  Sasha looked like she was about to say something when Aida suddenly started clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.

  “Dinner is served, everybody!”

  Group gatherings, no matter the size, tired Sasha. After the dessert, people still hung around. She didn’t mind as she understood they needed to unwind just as much as she did. But her fingers were itching, and she was restless.

  Eric couldn’t keep his hands off her all night. If they were not holding hands under the table during the meal, he was touching her knee, her cheek. An arm around her waist. Lips on her shoulder. She felt like stoked fire, coaxed to burn brighter and hotter. What she would give to pull her husband between her legs and feel him inside her again.

  But she hadn’t picked up the cello
in weeks. It unsettled her. Her audition for the Chartane School of Music was in a month. There was a lot to catch up on. A lot.

  Yet she let Eric pull her to the bedroom while their guests mingled and chatted downstairs. She took his face in her hands and kissed him hungrily. She moaned wantonly as he fondled her breasts through her top before his fingers reached for the bow at her nape to untie it. She shivered and held on to Eric as he dragged a soft nipple between his lips.

  Oh, god. His mouth was just heaven.

  He indulged in kissing and licking her nipples before making his way up to her throat, the highest point he could reach because she was in heels. She pushed her fingers through his silky hair. She bent her head and kissed him on the lips.

  “Eric,” she said, reluctantly pulling away. “There’s something I have to do.”

  He groaned and dropped his head on her shoulder. “What is it?”

  “I need to get my cello,” she answered, breathing sharply because he had resumed feasting on her breasts. She smiled as he huffed and returned his head on her shoulder.

  “Do you really have to?” He looked up at her. She felt herself melting at the hunger on his face.

  “I have to practice.”

  He nodded and pulled away. She removed herself from the wall, picking up the top half of her suit that now hung loose down her hips. He had her turn around so he could secure the ties in a bow at her nape. Then she felt his lips on her shoulder.

  “Don’t take too long,” he said against her skin, nibbling it. As she blushed, another kiss fell on her. “Come back to me.”

  She went with Aida, Clinton, and Lena. She walked Lena to her apartment.

  “Oh, how well you look in just a matter of hours,” Lena said as Sasha helped her out of her coat. Her hand went up to touch Sasha’s cheek. “It’s nice to see you back, child.”

  Sasha smiled, touching her hand. “You’ve always been there for me, Lena. Thank you.” She gestured at her pantsuit. “And this. You really didn’t have to.” Lena’s pension might be generous, but her pockets were not as deep as expected of a Lawson.