The Client 12: In Which She...Crap, I'm All Out Of Applicable Innuendos

Nathan didn't seem concussed so Imogen made his brother heave him up to his feet and escort him to a spare room for a “little lie-down”. Like he was a seventy-year-old who'd just had a dizzy spell.

He kept murmuring, “I'm gonna be a dad. Holy s.h.i.+t, someone's gonna call me Dad,” and Reed was telling him to shut up or he'd let go and leave him at the mercy of gravity. They closed the door behind them, arguing over who was the least supportive brother between the two of them.

That left me with Imogen, who was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming at me.

“Do you bake?” she asked out of the blue.

“Yeah,” I answered automatically.

People usually didn't expect someone like me to actually know my way around the kitchen and enjoy it, but I did. In fact, back in my condo, I could wake up at three in the morning to make batches and batches of oatmeal cookies, my favourite.

Imogen didn't bat an eye at my affirmative. “Want to help me make a chocolate cake? It's Reed's favourite and I'm absolutely rubbish at following a recipe.” She threw the last sentence over her shoulder as she strode down the hallway, expecting me to follow.

I did.

Brenda was in the kitchen, standing at the island and putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches on a huge chocolate cake that instantly had me salivating. Squeezing in baking and eavesdropping on two people f.u.c.king was probably all in a day's work for her. She looked up from her task of frosting the cake and the change from her usual icy facial expression was a wonder to behold.

She gave Imogen the I'm-sweet-as-sugar-and-pie smile that I'd thought was reserved for her precious Reed. I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd pop, especially when she rounded the island with spread arms to pull Imogen into a bear hug.

“My goodness, I didn't know you were coming!” she exclaimed once she'd let the poor girl go. “It's so good to see you.”

“It's good to see you, too, Mrs. B. Nate and I wanted to surprise Reed. Sam let us in the back door,” said Imogen.

“Nathan's here, too?” A cloud pa.s.sed over Brenda's craggy face.

“Of course.”

“Well. Good,” she said in a voice that told everyone present that it wasn't good.

“Lena and I wanted to bake. Looks like you beat us to it.”

Brenda's eyes slid over to me. She sniffed. “You think this one can make a cake?”

“Mrs. B!”

“Don't worry about it, Imogen,” I said graciously. “I have something the birthday boy likes to eat and it doesn't have to be made.”

Imogen sputtered with raucous laughter, wheezing out how naughty I was. Brenda simply glared at me before covering the cake and muttering that it was for after dinner. She stomped out the kitchen shortly after to spread her nonexistent good cheer elsewhere.

“Don't mind that old bat,” Imogen told me, perching on a bar stool at the island. She lifted off the Tupperware lid that covered the cake and dipped a finger into some chocolate frosting on the side. “I suppose she knows all about you two s.h.a.gging. She's really, really protective of Reed.” She sucked on her finger, motioning for me to sit with her.

“Yeah, why is that? I think it's creepy.” I joined her, plonking down beside her.
She twisted at her side to look at me. “Nate says he's always thought his dad was having an affair with her. Old Brenda was gorgeous back in the day, so it's possible. And clichéd.” She sighed, looking thoughtful. “Apparently, Reed used to call her 'Mum' when he was a little boy, when his actual mother was still alive. I think since Brenda never had any children of her own, Reed is like a subst.i.tute.”

I tapped my fingertips on the marble top. “Wyatt Parker told me Brenda was in love with Reed and Nate's father. Why does Reed think it's so crazy when Nate believes it?”

“I'm not even going to ask when you had a cosy chat with a murderer,” Imogen began, going for more frosting, “but Reed thinks Brenda hung the moon in the sky and threw in some stars. She might smile at me and tell me that I should visit often but I b.l.o.o.d.y well know she's got a mean streak as dark as night. The only reason I don't get Nate to get rid of her is because she does care about his brother.”

“Maybe a little too much,” I mumbled.

Imogen snorted with laughter. “I can a.s.sure you that there's nothing weirdly s.e.xual about her love for Reed. G.o.d, I love you!”

“You might not love me so much after I ask the question I'm dying to ask,” I told her.

“Ask away.” Imogen flashed me a grin.

“You and Nathan… How did that happen? No offense.”

She let out a hearty laugh. “None taken. We get that a lot.” She pushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “Nate and I met at business school. Well, I wasn't at business school – I was visiting my brother and he just happened to be rooming with Nate.” She wrinkled her nose at a memory. “I really hated his accent and how he called his jeans pants but Nate is incredibly clever and hilarious and sweet to me and I couldn't not fall in love with him. So there, that's how I met the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”

“That's…a great story.”

“I can tell you think it's sappy but that's OK. One day, Lena, you'll be telling your own how-I-met-your-father story and I hope I'm there to remind you of this moment.”

It was my turn to wrinkle my nose. “Probably not. I mean, there won't be any father because there won't be any kids but you'll definitely be there to remind me of this.” I gave her a smile that she didn't return.

“You really don't want to get married? Ever?”

I shook my head. She dropped the subject.

She hopped off the stool and ambled to the deep freezer. “Ice-cream? I might be eating for two here but I don't want to look like a greedy cow.”

“Sure,” I replied. Ice-cream certainly brought happy memories now.

“I found vanilla. Any preference of toppings?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Blueberry.”

Imogen set the tub on the counter before going into the pantry. She shook the plastic bottle of blueberry sauce and pulled a face before returning to me with a pair of spoons. “Seems empty. Reed probably drank the bottle. You know he's got a weakness for this s.h.i.+tty flavour?”

“Yeah. It came up…in conversation.” I knew I was red-faced. I wasn't ever going to eat ice-cream or look at a blueberry without thinking of a certain green-eyed artist who possessed a noteworthy tongue.

This certain green-eyed artist sauntered in the kitchen just as Imogen and I were licking the last of the ice-cream off our spoons and debating on whether men preferred big a.s.ses and small t.i.ts, or small a.s.ses and big t.i.ts. Reed came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and I let him. I let him because I wanted him to, and when I tilted my head up for a kiss, I didn't care that his sister-in-law was sitting beside me and watching us. She was pretty f.u.c.king awesome and I just didn't care aboutwhat she thought because Reed's kisses were that intoxicating.

“Hi,” Reed said against my lips before pulling back.
“Hey,” I whispered.

Imogen cleared her throat. “Well, leave the man for twenty minutes and he acts like he's just come back from war. I'm torn between awing and regurgitating all this ice-cream.”

“How about you say nothing?” Reed released me and went to the fridge. “Lena and I aren't dating. Right, Lena?”

I ignored Imogen's questioning look and focused on Reed's birthday cake, which really was a jezebel h.e.l.l-bent on seducing my taste buds. “Right.”

Imogen nodded, and then pushed the empty tub of ice-cream away, rubbing her stomach. “I need to check on my husband. Once the shock wears off, I imagine he'll be fuming that I didn't tell him about the baby the nanosecond I found out.”

Reed had a bottle of water in his hands when he said with genuine sincerity, “Congratulations, Immy. You'll be a great mom if you don't let my brother name the poor kid.”

“G.o.d, absolutely not!” Imogen turned to me. “We talked about baby names years ago and Nate actually put Lucas Skye Walker Lancaster on the table as a boy's name. And he was serious.”

She was muttering to herself about her husband's warped way of thinking even as she sauntered out the kitchen.

“So you two hit it off, huh?” said Reed, taking the stool that Imogen had just vacated. He uncapped his water bottle and took a long swig.

“She's great. Really gorgeous and funny. Nate lucked out,” I answered honestly. I watched Reed's tongue flicker out to lick away the moisture on his top lip and groaned in my head. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with me?

“I'm glad you like her. She's like a big sister to me.”

“What would it have mattered if I didn't like her?”

His eyes s.h.i.+fted to the cake on the table. “I don't care what you say, Lena – you're important to me,” he said quietly, fixing that jade stare on me again. “I don't care about how long we've known each other, or what this is or isn't. Your opinion matters to me.”

I let out the breath I'd been holding. “I'm flattered, Reed, but it shouldn't matter.”

He rose to his full height, setting the now-empty bottle onto the counter. I craned my neck to look up at him and he cupped my chin, standing between the V of my legs.

“Everything about you matters,” he whispered, sliding his thumb along my bottom lip. Without thinking about it, I parted my lips and drew it inside, sucking hard. His mouth slackened. “Do you know what I'm imagining in your mouth right now?”

I let him go, grinning. “I have an idea, birthday boy. Guess you have something to look forward to tonight.”

He popped his thumb in his mouth and licked me away. “After I eat you out, of course.”

“d.a.m.n it, Reed. Let's go upstairs right now.”

“Let's not.” He gave me a knowing smile before lifting the lid off the cake and tasting the frosting. “Brenda makes the same dinner for me every year on this day and I definitely need to eat before I f.u.c.k you long and hard again.”

When he surprised me by talking filthy, every inch of my body responded. Just hearing the promise in his throaty voice had my p.u.s.s.y aching; wanting, yearning. Nightfall needed to come fast, yet Reed was licking chocolate of his finger like he hadn't just promised to have his mouth on me again. I was fidgety and restless and Reed barely acknowledged me as we sat in silence. When Nate and Imogen came into the kitchen, we hopped off our seats, looking at them expectantly. You just never knew what to expect with these two.

“Grab your coats. We're going to the club,” Nate announced, looking extremely gleeful. My eyes went to Imogen standing beside him. She had clearly missed a spot of white on her chin.
Smirking, I motioned for her to wipe it away and, reddening, she quickly used her sleeve to mop up the last of the evidence of what had her husband so happy.

“The club?” Reed's voice was slightly panicked.

“Birthday dinner, love,” Imogen clarified, slinking her arm around Nate's waist. “Nate hired this amazing chef straight out of Italy who makes the best food.”

I couldn't fathom eating at that place, even if it was supposed to be cla.s.sy. And Reed obviously felt the same. I could feel the tension radiating from Reed beside me as he bit out, “Absolutely not. I'm never setting foot in that place again.”

Nate let out a heavy sigh. “Security knows what Parker looks like. If you're worried –”

“It's not that,” Reed snapped. “I –”

“If it's about that dumb video I sent Lena, I'll switch off the cameras in the room this time. If I'd known that you'd be going in there in the first place, you'd never have been recorded.”

“What video?” Imogen and Reed asked at the same time.

I groaned and they both turned to look at me. “That Mr. Lancaster over there recorded us in the Gla.s.s Room.”

“You what?” This came from Imogen.

Nate instantly went on the defensive. “The cameras are there for security purposes only! No one's supposed to have s.e.x in my club. Touching? Fine. Intercourse? Heck, no.”

Reed went redder than he'd ever gone before. “You t-taped us?”

“Yeah, and he sent it to me so I'll always have those memories,” I drawled. As I said the words, I finally realised that there was no employer-employee line between the Lancasters and me – and I was finally okay with that.

“Jesus Christ!” Nathan exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Why are you all looking at me like I slaughter infants on weekends and public holidays? It's not like I sit there and videotape people having s.e.x like some desperate peeping tom.”

Imogen shook her head. “You didn't deserve that b.l.o.w.j.o.b. You're such a p.r.i.c.k sometimes, Nathan Lancaster.”

An awkward moment of silence descended. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

“We're not going to your club and we're not going out, period,” Reed intoned. He cut a look at me. “Well, you and Imogen can go, but Lena and I are staying in. I don't want today to be such a big deal.”

He wasn't asking; he was telling. Usually, the feminist in me would've told him where to get off but she kind of liked the way Reed sounded so…dominant. I simply nodded.

“Then we're staying with you,” Imogen offered. “The whole point of my coming here was to be with you on your birthday, Reed.”

“I hate this f.u.c.king house,” Nathan groused, “and Brenda hates my guts. Fire that d.a.m.n woman, Reed.”

“You know why I'd never do that.”

“And don't ask him to,” Imogen scolded. She huffed out a breath. “I brought my travel Scrabble. What could go wrong playing Scrabble? You guys want to play until dinner?”

“She's unbeatable,” Nate informed us, pride filling his voice.

“You're in the doghouse, so don't even try to ply me with compliments,” Imogen said sharply.

“Sounds good.” Reed was already sidestepping his brother. “Hopefully I'll get to spell a.s.shole.”
***

The stars were aligned for Reed because he got the chance to spell the word he'd wanted to direct at his brother and blocked a triple-word score for him in one go. The tension between the two brothers was so thick I could've sworn it was an actual person in the person. Imogen and I were getting tired of hearing our own voices.

I nudged Reed, who was sitting beside me, leaning forward slightly with his eyes intent on the board on the coffee table. “Could you please stop giving your brother the silent treatment?” I asked him quietly. “I'm over that video and you should be, too.”

“He saw you naked.”

Nate cleared his throat. “Actually, I didn't see much. Like I said, once I saw it was you and her, I shut that s.h.i.+t off.”

“You'd better shut up right now,” growled Reed, fisting his hands on either side of his legs.

“Reed, stop,” I told him, amazed by his intensity.

Imogen sat back in her seat, a small smile on her face. “No, you should let them at it, Lena,” she said with a sigh. “They love fighting. I think they miss punching each other b.l.o.o.d.y when they're apart. This is cathartic for them.”

Nathan gave him brother a look that was far from apologetic. “Reed, I am immensely sorry you got caught on camera doing something you shouldn't have been doing in the first place in my club.”

“It was my idea, OK?” I snapped at him. “I wasn't thinking, but then again, I never really think when I'm around your brother.”

“Well, I'm starting to think I married the wrong Lancaster.”

Nate snapped his head in his wife's direction. “Take that back. What if he hears that?” He pointed at Imogen's stomach.

“He?” I arched a brow. “How can you know that already?”

“It's a thing in our family,” Reed explained to me while Imogen rolled her eyes. “Lancaster men only have boys.”

Imogen muttered, “It's bulls.h.i.+t.”

“Generations of Lancaster men don't lie,” Nathan retorted. He scooted closer to his wife even as she glared at him. “Will you forgive me?”

“I'm mad on Reed and Lena's behalf. You should've destroyed that CD,” was her response.

I inwardly sighed. Was I the only person in the room that had truly let it go? It had been hours since I'd watched the offending video and now that I thought about it, people made s.e.x tapes all the time. As long as I kept it safe and didn't think too much about Nathan and his perverted security guards watching it, I would be good.

“I need air.” I jumped to my feet before anyone could say anything and went for the door that led outside.

It would've been pitch black outside if it hadn't been for the bright security lights. I mentally cursed, wanting the darkness, as I made my way to one of the old oak trees as far away from the back of the house as possible. I hugged myself, my thin cotton T-s.h.i.+rt no match for the slight breeze that was tugging at my hair, which was loose and falling to my shoulders. Annoyed at forgetting my scrunchie, I pushed it all back behind my ears and leaned against the tree trunk. Maybe I'd go for a pixie look when I was done with this job. It had been a while since I'd changed up my hairstyle. My friends were going to flip…

“I'm sorry.”
Reed's voice filtered into my mental Elle of potential hairstyles and I slowly turned, narrowing my eyes at him. “For what?”

“For acting like a jealous idiot.” He clenched and unclenched his hands at his side before shoving them into his pockets. “It's just… Well, I… Do you find him…attractive?”

“What?” It felt like déjà vu; felt like I was in his bas.e.m.e.nt and he was asking me if I was attracted to the guy he'd hired to pose as him. “Your brother's an a.s.shat, a.s.shole and a.s.s-bucket all rolled into one. There's just too much a.s.s in him. You might as well be jealous of Imogen because I find her absolutely doable.”

Reed's face heated up. “Are you…you know, into women, too?”

I sent him a wink. “That's a story for another day, sweetheart.”

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, my brother is a d.i.c.k sometimes and I'm sorry I acted the way I acted just now.”

“Then I'm sorry for practically jumping you at the club. No idea what came over me,” I added.

He sent me one of his crooked smiles. “I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. Don't apologise.”

“It wasn't a sincere apology in the first place,” I said with a smile. “Come here.”

He walked the small distance between us and I slid my arms around his waist, s.h.i.+vering when his came around mine while I got onto the tips of my toes.

“Happy birthday,” I whispered into his ear.

He stiffened then relaxed, exhaling softly. “Now I'm happy.” And he turned his head slightly and kissed me slowly, gently cupping my cheek as if I were porcelain.

This kiss was pa.s.sionate and languorous and his tongue brushed against mine in slow strokes. He growled softly when I pressed myself against him, rubbing myself against his front. He'd thrown on sweatpants after his shower and I could feel his c.o.c.k hardening so acutely it was as if we were both naked again.

And now I was thinking of him naked. Then I wasn't thinking at all when his palm slipped up my T-s.h.i.+rt and closed around my breast, his fingertips lightly grazing the hardened nipple.

“Reed.” My voice was breathy and incredibly desperate. The voice of a different woman. “Oh, G.o.d. Baby. I need…” More.

His fingers were in my panties, seeking my c.l.i.t. He found it, hard and swollen and so painful it hurt to have him touch it.

“This is what I want today,” he said in a low voice, rubbing the little nub in slow circles. Moisture flooded my panties, heat flooded my belly. “Just you, Lena. You're so… f.u.c.k, don't do that!”

My hand had crept into his sweatpants and closed around his incredible erection. He jerked in my hand, so heavy with need it was surreal.

“Now,” I said hoa.r.s.ely. “Make love to me now.” All thoughts of everyone still in the house probably waiting for our return could wait for later, after Reed f.u.c.ked me.

His nostrils flared. “Did you…did you hear what you just said?”

“Yes,” I said impatiently, grabbing his s.h.i.+rt. “f.u.c.k me, Reed. f.u.c.k me quickly.”

His eyes slid shut momentarily and he mumbled to himself. They snapped open again and he lowered his lips to mine once more before drawing back and spinning me around, forcing my hands flat against the tree. Excitement thrummed in my veins and hot need set me alight as he kicked my feet apart. His hands were frantic when they went for the front of my jeans and tugged them down with my underwear in one go before positioning himself right behind me, running his hands along the curve of my a.s.s.

“Bend,” he grunted, “and hold on.”

I was panting already, blood rus.h.i.+ng to my head. So ready. So, so ready.

“So f.u.c.king beautiful.” I heard the tear of foil behind me, heard the soft whoosh of his pants coming down and felt his fingers dig into my hips.

The air was punched out of my lungs when he thrust into me, my fingernails tearing into the tree bark from the impact.

“f.u.c.k. s.h.i.+t. f.u.c.k,” I gasped, the pleasure too much. All of it was too much.

He pulled out again before pus.h.i.+ng back in. “You wanted fast, right?”

“Yes,” I cried, pus.h.i.+ng back against him, my p.u.s.s.y remembering his size and stretching.

“Always so wet,” he rasped, circling his c.o.c.k inside me. I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut, giving in to the sensations. His fingers slid to my p.u.s.s.y, playing with my c.l.i.t even as he f.u.c.ked me harder, f.u.c.ked me faster.

“Please,” I cried out. His thrusts were less controlled, less practised. He went deeper and I was senseless with ecstasy.

“I'm yours,” I heard Reed say, his voice strained. “Yours, Lena. Yours.”

“Yes,” I heard myself respond, and I went limp, the pleasure building up to a quick and intense climax.

“Yes,” Reed echoed, his d.i.c.k jerking inside me as he spilled into the condom. His o.r.g.a.s.m was my o.r.g.a.s.m and we fell apart together, both seeking support from the tree as we fell to the ground in a messy heap.

I couldn't say anything. Reed didn't say anything.

It took a while for me to be able to shakily get to my feet and pull my pants back up. Reed rose slowly, carefully removing his condom before knotting it and burying it.

“Lena, wait up,” he called as I started to walk away.

Wham-bam-thank-you-man.

I stilled. “Yeah?”

“Tell me something,” he said, coming up beside me. “What's the difference between making love and good old f.u.c.king?”

I shook my head as if I could shake his question away. “Making love only happens in books and movies. There's no such thing. We should go inside now.”

He didn't reply. He didn't say anything, only stepped aside to let me back into the living room.

The first thing I noticed was that Nate and Imogen hadn't budged an inch from where we'd left them, although the strange looks on their faces were cause for concern. The Scrabble board was still on the table with our empty mugs of hot chocolate.

But Brenda was there on the couch on the far end of the room. Her face was sullen and ashen.

Sitting squashed beside her as if this were an everyday occurrence was Wyatt Parker, looking frailer than ever.

***********************

A/N: OK, this was supposed to be the last chapter but it wasn't supposed to end here. I had to split it into two chapters because it was too freaking long and it isn't even finished yet. So I'm hoping to get the next chapter up real quick and then the epilogue, which will be in Reed's POV. Hope you enjoyed this one =) xo -Kim