A Touch of Spice Read online

  When they broke for air, his cheeks were flushed with more than cold.

  “Hi,” Jackie said, grinning. She was rarely so affectionate after work and she didn’t want to look too closely into why that was. A certain retired porn star came to mind, his lips lush and soft-looking against the rim of his tea mug. Jackie pushed back against the thought, looping her hands behind her boyfriend’s neck. “Happy birthday.”

  “My birthday’s not for a few days…”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Oh, no.” He grasped her thighs, hoisting her flush against him. It wasn’t entirely comfortable. His messenger bag weighed against Jackie’s knee, his metal belt buckle pressing sharp into her belly, but it was all bearable because Marten’s lips had found her neck, kisses warm and wet just where she was most sensitive.

  “Take me to bed,” she heard herself beg, though Marten was already leading them in that direction.

  They knocked the door frame and Marten almost backed her clumsily into the wardrobe, before their journey ended with a loud thump and the mattress dipping beneath their combined weight. Marten laughed, the sound cutting off abruptly as Jackie sought his lips with a kiss. Their rutting was perfectly graceless, like teenagers humping behind school bleachers, but it seemed so much effort to undress. Jackie needed him now, this instant. She couldn’t stand to wait another minute. Mercifully, it seemed like she wasn’t the only one desperate for release.

  “Grab a condom,” Marten urged, tilting to the side to undo his fly. His belt buckle fell open against Jackie’s splayed thigh like a brand, gleaming and icy. She wondered what it might be like to be spanked with it—or to spank Tony—and felt a flood of need gush from her sex.

  The sound of her name on Marten’s lips brought her back. “What? Oh, right.” She scrabbled blindly on the nightstand until she knocked over the box of condoms they’d stopped stowing out of the way a scant three days after moving into an apartment all of their own. With no roommates around to interrupt there was no reason to hide how randy they were for each other. Jackie tore the wrapper with shaking hands, but held it out of her boyfriend’s reach.

  “Get on your back,” she murmured, trying for seductive but sure she was coming closer to desperate instead.

  Marten held her gaze for only a moment before obeying. He sighed through parted lips when she straddled his hips, reaching his hands to grasp her flanks. “You’re such a tease, schatje—”

  “We’ve talked about this before, remember? A tease doesn’t deliver,” Jackie recalled, rolling the condom down her boyfriend’s cock. He was so hard, already leaking pre-cum into her fist. “I do.” She squeezed a little, mostly to hear him moan, before rising onto her knees above him. Holding him steady with one hand, she prised her soaked panties aside with the other. She didn’t have to see Marten’s eyes to know they were focused wholly on the sight of her sinking down upon him, taking him in with one fluid stroke. Heat filled her, the stretch pleasantly familiar by now as she settled onto his member.

  “Fuck,” he bit out, and arched his head back into the pillows. Other curses tumbled from his mouth, in Dutch and in English.

  Jackie echoed the sentiment with a soft keen. As much as she would have liked to torment him a little longer, she needed to move. It took a little effort to get her legs to cooperate. She felt as though her muscles had been reduced to Jell-O, but there was a sense of rhythm to their lovemaking once she found it. Marten worked his hips up and into hers as she bore down upon him with slick, sweet sounds. Jackie couldn’t fathom stopping. Her hands gripped along the folds of his shirt, grasping his silk tie as a makeshift leash. Tempting as it was to pull, she was afraid of choking Marten, so she settled for looping his tie around her palm as she rocked over and over onto his cock. Her cunt throbbed and she could feel herself getting close when, with a choked growl, Marten flipped them over.

  A protest rose to Jackie’s lips. This wasn’t how she’d wanted it—why couldn’t he give her the upper hand for once? Then she saw Marten’s face, eyes gone so dark they were almost black and his cheeks stained with excitement and she gave up the thought. Marten could have her like this if he wanted to. She didn’t mind.

  He spread her knees wider, his jacket falling around them like a pair of folded wings. “Jackie,” he ground out. “Jackie, fuck—”

  The violence of his thrusts rattled the headboard. Jackie could only anchor herself to him as he fucked her hard and fast, pouring pure filth into her ear between haggard breaths. The intermittent friction of his pubic bone against her clit was just enough to send her over the edge.

  She didn’t cry out, she never did, but Marten’s moans rose to a desperate, barely human pitch as he propped himself on his fists and began to pound her in earnest. One, two more thrusts, then he was coming, his handsome face transfigured and red with effort. His dick twitched inside Jackie’s cunt, held so tightly by the clutch of her inner muscles as it spurted in the condom. Shivers racked through him. Jackie opened her arms to catch him when he collapsed into her arms. “That was hot,” she mumbled. “That was so hot, baby…”

  “Yeah.” Marten’s ribcage was still rattling with his rushing heartbeat.

  Jackie placed a wet kiss just under his hairline, inhaling his sweat and the faint, familiar scent of his cologne. She’d never been a fan of men who went all boneless after sex, but with Marten it wasn’t so bad. He had a way of clinging that made her feel powerful, like she was dispensing kindness by letting him linger inside her in the aftermath. When he finally did move, his tie was askew and his hair stuck out at odd angles like the comic book version of a mad scientist. It didn’t get any better when she ran her fingers up his nape into the thick, brown strands to tilt his mouth to hers for a kiss.

  Her own dress was rucked up around her waist, panties soaked and clinging to her in a way she found both decadent and a little unpleasant. At least she hadn’t been wearing tights today.

  “What did I do,” Marten mumbled, his voice reduced to a languid, debauched little purr, “to deserve that kind of welcome?”

  Jackie pressed her lips into a thin line. “Nothing. Why?”

  He turned his head against the pillow until he could see Jackie. “Because that was—special. Lately we just get takeaway and watch movies until one of us falls asleep in front of the TV. Not,” Marten hurried to add, “that I don’t like that, too.” Since they had a turn-based system for picking the movies they rented and he usually picked three-hour-long war flicks, Jackie hadn’t thought for a second that he disliked their evenings, but now she wondered.

  “It’s your birthday,” she pointed out. “The big three-oh.”

  “And this is how we’re gearing up for that milestone?” Marten grinned into the pillowcase.

  No, Jackie thought, this was how she was making up for revealing his secret fantasies to a complete and utter stranger. Exchanging a few emails with Tony and watching his films didn’t mean she knew him. It didn’t even mean she could count him as an acquaintance—and still she had exposed Marten to his ridicule, never mind that she’d gone as far as to invite Tony to their bed. With the haze of post-orgasmic bliss fast receding, Jackie found herself feeling both ashamed and relieved as Marten dragged himself out of their bed. She didn’t want to lose this easy complicity, this hard-earned domestic peace she had forged for herself so many miles away from home.

  “Marten?”

  “Hmm?” He had already started peeling out of his sweat-soaked clothes, each layer revealing a little more of the man beneath the frosty professional exterior. When he turned to face her wearing only his black socks and his soiled tighty-whities, Jackie’s heart all but lurched in her chest.

  “I love you,” she heard herself say, a far cry from what she’d meant to tell him but not so far from the truth.

  Marten grinned, his cheeks dimpling. “I love you too, monkey. Now… Do you want to shower with me so we can keep on going with the celebrations?”

  Laughter caught in her throat. “L
iar, you just want me for a crutch,” Jackie protested, “so you don’t fall and crack your head open.” All the same, she slotted her hand neatly into his, their palms as perfectly aligned as two puzzle pieces.

  Chapter Three

  Despite a long week and a busy Friday, Jackie woke early on Saturday morning. Marten’s hand was looped around her belly, a heavy, comforting weight that she nevertheless had to brush aside as she slipped from their bed and padded into the bathroom. Under the unflattering lights, her face looked almost ashen. This was it—D-day, the day on which, for better or worse, all her plans would come to fruition. She splashed water onto her cheeks and brushed her teeth, but it did nothing to clear her head. Coffee was the next best attempt.

  She had only just curled up on the couch with a mug when she heard Marten’s phone ring in the bedroom—probably friends and family calling to congratulate him. His voice was muffled as he picked up, but a second later, she heard him roll heavily out of bed and start rootling around in the dresser. A similar clacking sound followed as he searched around inside the wardrobe.

  “Everything okay?” Jackie asked from the bedroom doorway.

  Marten yawned, still in his boxers. “I have to go in. One of the servers is down. I’m the first person from IT they could get in touch with…”

  “Today?” croaked Jackie. “But—”

  “I know, it’s Saturday,” Marten sighed. “I’ll try to get it fixed as fast as I can.”

  “It’s not that.” Her feet shuffling against the cold floors, Jackie rubbed a hand through her tangled hair. “It’s your birthday. You shouldn’t be working, you should be…enjoying yourself.” With me. She had been counting on having enough time to work up the nerve to tell him about Tony over the course of the day. With him going off to the office, the prospect was growing dim.

  Marten met her eyes, a frown tugging down the corners of his lush lips. “We’ll celebrate. I promise I’ll be back by noon. I’m sure it’s nothing big, probably just a rudimentary issue.” He didn’t sound convinced, but his attempts to put a brave face on didn’t go unnoticed. Jackie held out her cup. She could make more coffee. He needed to be awake for the drive to work. “Forgive me?” Marten pleaded, a wrinkle from the pillows still etched onto his cheek.

  “Always,” Jackie said, and meant it. “I’ll fix you up something to eat before you go.”

  She slathered a piece of bread with butter and two strips of freshly crisped bacon, still warm from the frying pan. A lazy brunch was one of their most treasured weekend treats. It didn’t need to be abandoned just because Marten had been called in early.

  “For tonight…” he said, striding into the kitchen in jeans and a clean shirt. No tie—it was, after all, the weekend. “If you just want to get takeaway and watch movies…”

  Their impromptu escapade a few nights back returned to haunt Jackie where she stood under the narrow band of spotlights in the kitchen. She hadn’t jumped him like that since, though almost every night until the last had been pleasantly exhausting. Parts of her were still throbbing with the memory. Her cheeks flamed. “And pretend it’s just another day in the life of? Fat chance, birthday boy. I’m taking you out for dinner…and then there will be a surprise.” Despite herself, she couldn’t help thinking of Tony’s text messages. They had kept a steady stream of conversation since their one and only meeting, albeit continuously interrupted by the constraints of daily life. Every night, without fail, he’d tell her to give the birthday boy a kiss for him. Jackie didn’t do it consciously, but once or twice the thought had crossed her mind. How would Tony’s tongue feel in her mouth? Would he bite at Marten’s lips like she did? Would he moan and sigh when it was over?

  Marten’s eyebrows rose in question at the news and he seemed a little more awake as he shrugged his jacket on with both hands already thrust inside the sleeves. Jackie pecked him chastely on the cheek before he left, feeling a bit like she was cheating on him in spirit. It wasn’t that, surely. She desperately wanted him to be a part of whatever ended up happening with Tony. She told herself she was doing it for him first and foremost and any pleasure she took in the act was only coincidental. It was getting harder to believe with every text message and every half-baked fantasy.

  And if she happened to be a little excited as she rushed to check her smartphone’s inbox, so what? It didn’t mean she was glad to be alone in an empty apartment, her bare feet cold when they could’ve been warmed by Marten’s broad palms. Much to her disappointment, Tony had actually slept last night rather than bombard her with messages. She felt strangely bereft at the silence and found herself typing Good morning and pressing send before she could think the better of it. The fine line between sane, harmless acquaintance and strange stalker lady had long been crossed.

  She didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

  Morning, lovely. Shouldn’t you be busy with the birthday boy?

  He had tacked on a smiley face, in case she couldn’t tell that he was alluding to sex. Jackie wrote back.

  Busy today. Had to go to the office.

  She paused, thumbs hovering over the touch screen. She wanted to ask if he was available to meet, but didn’t know how to do so without appearing as though she was inviting him over for a quickie while her boyfriend was away. As long as their illicit friendship was only illicit because they were conspiring to prepare Marten’s birthday surprise, she could pretend text messaging with another man was perfectly harmless. It wasn’t.

  Let’s have coffee.

  They settled on the place they had gone to the last time Jackie had thought it smart to meet a man behind her boyfriend’s back, and she was surprised to find her hands shaking as she applied her makeup in the bathroom mirror. It was why she decided to go without mascara or eyeliner and only settled on a dash of pale pink lipstick to mark her lips. No more effort than she would’ve put into meeting with her friends. It wasn’t like she was trying to make herself liked by Tony. Despite the rumblings of anxiety in her belly, she also took a piece of crispy bacon with her on her way out of the door and chewed it pensively as she waited at the bus stop. Anything to quench the startled butterflies in her belly.

  This being the weekend, the punctuality of the work week was utterly absent. Jackie was five minutes late and texting her apologies in the most unambiguous terms by the time she arrived at the café. Tony grinned at her through the window and beckoned her over to a booth. They were the only two people inside, barring the bored-looking barista.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” Jackie started, paraphrasing what her thumbs had already spelled out in her last, and so far unsent, text message. “There was no bus, so I had to run and try the Metro line—”

  Tony smiled. “You’re here now.” Beside his steaming teacup sat a latte all but waiting for Jackie to take the first sip.

  “For me?” Why did her heart jump to think he had remembered what kind of coffee she drank? He was probably just an attentive guy.

  Tony nodded. “It’s not non-fat…”

  “That’s fine,” Jackie said, plucking off her jacket as she sank into the booth. “I, uh, thank you. I’ll get the next round…” Or maybe lunch? supplied that small treacherous part of her brain that knew exactly how far from innocent her whole predicament had become.

  “So,” Tony pressed, leaning forward on his elbows. “How are you? Having second thoughts yet?” His blue eyes were intent on her as he spoke, as if with one question he could unlock all her secrets and see all the way into her heart. It made Jackie feel exposed, but not uncomfortable. She wondered what it might do to Marten.

  She shook her head. “No second thoughts, no. I’m a little nervous, I’ll admit, but…” She thrust out her chin. “I’m still game if you are.” They were in this together, she had decided, and whatever happened tonight would be their shared responsibility, albeit with Jackie carrying the lion’s share as the instigator. They were all adults, capable of making these calls.

  They were all going to get along just fine.
It was a portion of self-deception that fell apart as soon as Tony brought up their covert plans, “Does he suspect?”

  “No.” Jackie frowned. “I don’t know. Marten can be—”

  “Marten!” Tony suddenly exclaimed, his open palm smacking the table top with a dull thump. “That’s his name!”

  Jackie blinked at the outburst. “You forgot?” A thought crystallised as she watched relief wash across his face. “Is that why you’ve been calling him ‘the birthday boy’ all along?”

  Behind his cup, Tony chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m terrible with names. I probably wouldn’t have remembered yours if you hadn’t texted me. Jacqueline sounds very Dynasty.” And that was one comment that Jackie was going to ignore.

  “About the texting… I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I told you,” Tony answered gamely, “unless you’re a spambot, I’m happy to receive any and all emails.”

  Jackie folded her hands around her cup. “Why is that?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Most people would be put off by some chick harassing them at all hours of the day.” Something else was bothering her about their last meeting and the ease with which he had accepted being part of her birthday celebration. “Why did you agree?” Jackie asked, worrying a fingernail into the lacquer surface of the cup. “You don’t know me or Marten, we could be psychopaths…”

  “You don’t look like it,” Tony said. His smile was slipping, if only by increments, and Jackie wondered at the wisdom of making him fret. She wanted him to go along with her plan—didn’t she? “I trust my instincts,” Tony went on, “and the woman I met didn’t seem like she was in this for some nefarious purpose. Are you going to tell me I was wrong?”

  Jackie shook her head. “I just… I’m not sure I could see myself agreeing, in your shoes.”

  “Maybe that’s because you don’t walk in my shoes.” There was something tight in Tony’s smile when he spoke, a trace of weariness that didn’t do too well under close scrutiny. He seemed entranced by the swirls of colour in his teacup for a long moment before he spoke again. “I have a hard time making friends. Part of that’s my career and part of it is the fact that I’m not the easiest person to get along with. As for relationships, it’s easy to pick a bird up in some club, take her home… But as soon as she finds out I take my clothes off for a living—and that I do it for other blokes, too?” Tony shook his head. “Doesn’t really fly, you know?”