OGs: Deep Down (27 page)

“Strip,” he ordered as he closed the door and leaned on it, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You too,” she said, trying to break the tension.

He didn’t move an inch; he just watched Kyra undress. “You leaving?”

Mike had been very quiet the whole evening. Watchful. Protective.

She shook her head, and the strain in Mike’s shoulders seemed to lessen. “Not yet. Amantis has a couple of videos scheduled for this winter. Alexa wants me to do the choreography.”

Apparently Alexa was not going to accept her resignation. As far as the singer was concerned, it was business as usual. Kyra had been informed in no uncertain terms that she was still Amantis’s lead dancer and choreographer. If she wanted to be, which she wasn’t so sure of anymore.

“That’s what you talked about while you were in the kitchen?” Mike asked.

She shrugged. “Among other things. She was curious about you.”

Kyra and Alexa had been preparing a drink when the pop star had jumped the gun.

“So this is the famous Mike, huh?”
Alexa had asked, glancing through the window at the patio table, where the three men sat in what seemed uncomfortable silence. Well, all except Wata, Alexa’s husband. Silence didn’t bother him.

It had always surprised Kyra how normal a life Alexa and her family had in spite of all her fame. She was a very reserved person who guarded her private life very fiercely. The weapon of mass destruction that she had for a husband also helped to that end.

“Yes, that’s the famous Mike.”

“You’re finally together.”

Kyra nodded.
“For as long as I stay anyway.”

“And how long are you staying?”

Kyra touched her shoulder in reflex.
“Don’t know. I’m teaching some dancing classes at the gym. And I have a group of teenagers I’m working with for the Boston Annual Hip-Hop contest.”
The truth was she was enjoying herself.

“What about
Shake Your Booty?”

Kyra had had a sweet deal with that show; she’d sign on for some seasons and skip the ones that clashed with Amantis’s schedule of touring or rehearsing.

Kyra had lifted her shoulders.

“What about us?”
Alexa had insisted.

What about Mike?

Alexa had seemed to read her mind.
“You could have it all, you know. Mike could come—”

Kyra had lowered her eyes. No, he wouldn’t. Mike wasn’t Wata.

And she was enjoying herself, but she did miss her dancing career.

“She was curious about me?” Mike asked, interrupting her thoughts. “She’s the megastar, and she’s curious about me?”

“I may have mentioned you a time or two over the years,” she admitted, moving to Mike and taking off the last stitch of clothing.

Mike cocked his brow, a smile forming on his face. “A time or two?”

Or a hundred or a thousand, but who was splitting hairs?

“Yep.”

Naked, she placed her hands on his chest and started unbuttoning his shirt, but he stopped her. “Go lay on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” And he began stripping himself.

She hid her disappointment and obeyed. “Honey, about this Sunday—”

“Sunday will be fine,” Mike whispered as he finished undressing.

“But—”

“No buts. Is your period completely gone?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I want my mouth on you,” he said, coming to the bed and moving lower between her legs.

That had totally not been what she’d expected. Mike was big on macho power tripping, and after a whole evening of throwing murderous stares to Josh when he was being too familiar with her, she’d been sure Mike was going to again show her who had the upper hand. Fucking her hard and fast, her naked and him dressed was one of his ways of doing that.

Before she could say anything, he’d spread her wide open and was eating her so frigging thoroughly and possessively in no time she started tensing. He slowed down right away, petting her until the roaring need to come passed.

“Mike, please,” she begged thrashing against the sheets. “I need to come.”

But he didn’t relent and kept licking and lapping and nibbling at her open core, building her pleasure, bringing her to the edge and then easing her down without giving her relief.

She was soaking wet. Desperate.

“Look at me,” he growled against her flesh. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” she whimpered.

“You want me to let you come?”

She nodded, trembling all over. When he finally closed his mouth over her clit and sucked it hard, he sent her screaming into orgasm.

She managed to open her eyes after a while. He was watching her, his lips glistening from her juices, grinning. “I see you liked it.”

She broke into laughter. “What do you think? Womanhood as a whole has lost a lot if you haven’t been going down on your dates.”

Mike snorted. “Have you been paying attention to my customized dick, baby? I don’t give head, but no one complained. Believe me.”

The second she stiffened, he seemed to regret his words. “Baby—”

“I don’t want to hear about your other women.” Or how much they enjoyed his pierced cock.

Mike got defensive. “You brought them up.”

She tried to move from underneath him, but he put all his weight on her, trapping her. “Kyra, listen to me. The other women meant nothing to me. I was after release, and they knew the name of the game. Hell, no one could suck my cock without seeing your name on me. They knew exactly who I belonged to. I did too.”

She sucked in breath. “Mike—”

“Every night, kitten, I went to sleep, closed my eyes, and it was your face I saw, never mind how many women I fucked. Never mind how hard I tried to forget you.”

He seemed unable to stand her scrutiny, so he covered her mouth with his hand. “Enough talk. You said I would get luckier tonight, right?”

After a charged second she whispered, “What do you want?”

His response came right away. “I want to see you jacking off. Take your fingers to your pussy and make yourself come.”

“I’d rather you give me your cock.” Mike was a frigging master with his tongue, but she wanted him inside her.

“Tough shit.”

Okay. She brought her fingers to his mouth. “Lick them.” Not that she needed the extra moisture, but she could be a tease too.

She began playing with herself, raking her nails along her swollen folds, pressing her fingers against her clit. “I’ve been doing this, jacking off to you, for years. In my dreams.”

“Really? What do I do in those dreams?”

You tell me you love me.

She felt herself blushing. “You tell… You kiss me all over,” she corrected, not daring to say the truth.

She was lying, but he didn’t push it.

“I can do that, baby.”

He brushed his lips over her sensitized nipples, sucking and lapping at them, while she strained to come, slipping her fingers inside of her.

“This would work better if you gave me your cock.”

“It’s working for me,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers.

She was getting close, very close, her whole body on fire. Her clit throbbing. It wasn’t enough.

“Mike,” she said between ragged breaths, squeezing her vaginal walls, trying to get herself off. “I need you.”

Suddenly he leaned back on his haunches, took her with him and impaled her on his cock. She cried out and in an attempt to steady herself, she moved her hand away from her clit.

“Continue jacking off,” he bid out, powering inside her.

His face was tense, the muscles at either side of his neck standing out.

“Look at me and tell me what I really do in those dreams of yours while you jack off.”

She closed her eyes, panting against his lips. “Mike—”

“What do I say? Tell me,” he demanded, thrusting inside her so deeply she felt him in her womb. He grabbed her hair and pulled back to prevent her from ducking. “I want the truth this time.”

His other arm was around her waist, pulling her up and down on him while her pussy was clenching around his thrusting cock. She was losing it. She couldn’t think. She was going to come. “You say you love me. You always say you love me,” she cried out a second before her orgasm overtook her.

He gripped her hard and surged inside her again and again until he came, roaring into her neck, never giving her the words. And never acknowledging them.

It looked like he’d been macho power-tripping after all.

* * * *

“Come on, baby girl. It’s time,” Mike yelled, knocking on the gym’s dressing-room door. Today the karate classes for kids were starting up after the summer break.

Sam had always trailed him in the gym, but never as enthralled as when he was leading karate classes. She might be the spitting image of Kyra, but where her mother had never shown interest in martial arts, Sam was the other way around. She’d sit by the edge of the tatami closest to him and avidly watch the exercises, the katas, the combats. Everything. Running to him to ask things or just plain stand by his side. Discovering the
Karate Kid
movies had added fuel to the fire, so when he’d come to her with the white belt and
gi
and ordered her to get dressed, she’d all but fainted. She’d soon recuperated, throwing herself at him and showering him with sticky kisses.

She came out of the dressing room smiling from ear to ear and handed the belt to Mike for him to fasten it properly around her, but when she looked at the tatami and noticed Marcy and the other kids there, she faltered.

“Everything is going to be okay; trust me,” he said, holding out his hand to Sam. When she’d hugged and showered him with kisses, his heart had clenched, but now, as she reached for him and took his hand, trusting him to see to her, it stopped. Fuck, he loved this little girl as much as if she were his.

“Okay, but if she trips on her own feet, you know, accidentally, or something like that, I won’t get into trouble, will I?”

He chuckled. “Not if you don’t help her trip.”

“Bugger.”

Well, that was better than “sucker,” wasn’t it? Still, he turned to her, his expression serious. “Sam.”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

He had years of experience encouraging little kids to have fun while teaching them some discipline. Surely he could get Marcy and Sam to get along, right?

Wrong.

He tried all the tricks he could think of. Nada. Any game he came up with, the both girls ended up antagonizing each other. It seemed there was only one other whom those girls despised more than each other, and that was Rick, an eight-year-old, cocky-as-hell little boy.

While Mike stood musing over his next move, quite desperate already, Rick went behind the girls’ backs and did what all males do when women are involved: fuck up. With both hands he yanked at their ponytails. Both of them turned around and, as if synchronized, pushed, sending him skidding to the floor.

“Ouch,” he complained, covering his chest. “You girls are crazy. What did I do?”

Marcy and Sam sneered at him, then turned to each other, and that sneer transformed into a smirk.

Mike was stunned.

He’d forgotten a very important rule of conduct: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

His job was done here.

Chapter Thirteen

The first thought that crossed Kyra’s mind when she arrived at the Haddicans’ was that nothing had really changed. Well, except for their numbers; now they were more. The second was that she was as nervous as ever.

Mike grabbed Kyra’s hand and squeezed reassuringly.

“Come on, baby,” Mike said as they walked toward his parents’ house. Sam was running happily ahead of them, holding her rubber ring around her waist, her goggles already in place.

“They won’t eat you.”

“I know.”

Amazing how she could dance for millions and not get fazed, and here she was, a handful of people she’d known for years making her sick nervous without even trying to.

“We should have brought something,” Kyra mumbled to Mike.

“What do you mean? We bought a cake.”

“Something homemade.” A pie, a casserole. Cookies. Something homey.

Mike chuckled. “Kitten, they know you don’t cook.”

Yes, aside from pizza, waffles and pancakes, she wasn’t much of a cook. And wasn’t that part of the problem.

“Good you could make it,” Amanda said to them as they arrived. “Food’s not ready. You can go hang out by the pool.”

Kyra had been part of those gatherings for as long as she could remember. Food was just an excuse, because they all came around five hours before lunchtime. They’d play in the pool, shoot at each other with ridiculously big water guns, sunbathe, bicker and banter until the meat was barbecued and the salads were ready, and then, after eating, lie around and joke and banter some more. That relaxed atmosphere had always made her a tad uncomfortable before, as if she was intruding. Now it made her downright anxious.

There could be no doubt in anybody’s mind Mike and Kyra were an item. Still, no one from his family had said a word, not to her anyway.

Rebecca had looked ecstatic, Wilma and Greta too. Sara, being in her early twenties now and quite young when Kyra and Mike broke up, and clearly not remembering the whole debacle too well, seemed okay with it. Amanda and Dan, Mike’s parents, although looking pleased, were a bit reserved, especially Amanda. As if she didn’t know what to think and was afraid for Mike.

The only person who was openly hostile in the bunch was Lisa, Mike’s sister. She wasn’t Kyra’s biggest fan. Never had been. And now less than ever. She stared at her with mistrust but said nothing. Hank greeted Kyra and introduced their kids. Ashley was so grown Kyra wouldn’t have recognized her. They had two little ones, Alice, a year older than Sam, and Jackson, almost six.

“Uncle Mike!” Alice and Jackson both jumped at him. “Come play with us. We got new water guns.”

He kissed them both. “Wait to see the ones we brought.”

“Yay!” the screamed as he put them down.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked in a whisper.

“Go. I’ll be fine,” Kyra lied while the kids dragged Mike to play with the water guns around the pool, Sam with them. Hank and Sara joined them too.