Pursuit - A Dave Williams Story 4

The aroma of dark roast and cinnamon filled the air as David leaned back in his chair, watching Rachel move around her kitchen with an effortless kind of grace. Sunlight streamed through the open window, making the colorful glass suncatcher hanging above the sink cast prisms of light across the wooden countertops. Rachel was dressed in a way that suited her--comfortable, loose, almost bohemian. A long, flowing skirt with deep earthy tones swayed around her ankles as she moved, and the faded band tee she wore off one shoulder looked like it had seen better days, but on her, it worked. She was barefoot, always barefoot, with silver rings on nearly every finger and a thin leather cord around her neck holding some small crystal that she swore balanced her energy.

David had just come from the gym, still dressed in black joggers and a tight-fitting t-shirt that clung to his broad chest, damp from the lingering heat of his workout. He'd wrapped his hands earlier for some time on the heavy bag, and the red marks on his knuckles hadn't quite faded. He took a slow sip of coffee, letting the warmth settle into him as he watched Rachel move.

"So," she said, finally settling into the chair across from him, tucking one leg beneath her. "Tell me about dinner with the Harts. You've been holding out on me."

David smirked, setting his mug down. "It was... about what I expected," he admitted. "Jonathan was a wreck--man's unraveling faster than I thought he would. But Claire?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "She's something else."

Rachel arched a brow, intrigued. "Something else, how?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "She's observant, calculating. Spent most of the night trying to figure me out. She's playing a game, but she doesn't realize she's already lost."

Rachel hummed, stirring her coffee lazily. "I take it she's interested?"

David exhaled a laugh. "Showed up at my gym Monday morning."

Rachel nearly choked on her coffee, setting the mug down quickly. "No. She did not."

"Oh, she did," David confirmed, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Pretended she was there for a tour, but it was obvious. She barely even looked at the equipment. Just me."

Rachel whistled low. "Damn. She's got it bad."

"She thinks she's in control," David mused, his smirk turning knowing. "That's the fun part."

Rachel watched him carefully, fingers tracing the rim of her mug. "And what's your endgame, Davey?"

David didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. The movement made his biceps flex, pulling his shirt taut across his chest. His voice was low, almost amused when he finally spoke. "Let's just say Jonathan Hart is about to understand what it feels like to lose."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

David just smirked, taking another slow sip of coffee.

They sat in easy silence for a while, the sounds of the city filtering in through the open window. Then Rachel shifted, biting her lip, and David caught it instantly. His gaze sharpened.

"What?" he asked, setting his mug down.

Rachel shook her head, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "It's nothing."

David arched a brow. "Rach."

She sighed, shaking her head before finally meeting his gaze. "It's just... something Emily said once."

David's smirk faded. "Yeah?"

Rachel hesitated, then took a sip of coffee before setting it down and meeting his gaze. "She said that, um... sometimes intimacy with you was... uncomfortable."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, David threw his head back and laughed--a deep, rich sound that filled the kitchen.

Rachel groaned, covering her face. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything!"

David shook his head, still grinning as he wiped a hand over his jaw. "Jesus. Don't believe everything you hear."

Rachel tilted her head, her smile turning just a little coy as she tapped her fingers against her mug. "Oh, I don't think it's a rumor."

David leaned forward then, his voice dropping to a low drawl. "And what exactly makes you so sure?"

Rachel just smiled, biting her lip as she looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "Call it intuition."

David shook his head, running a hand through his short hair as if physically brushing the conversation aside. "Alright, we're done here." He picked up his coffee and took a long, slow sip, hoping to move things along.

Rachel, of course, wasn't having it.

"Oh no, we're not," she countered, setting her cup down with a deliberate clink. "You can bench-press a small car and probably crush a coconut between your biceps, but you're trying to tell me that's not impressive?" She let her gaze drift, exaggeratedly taking in the sheer breadth of him--the thick muscle of his forearms, the way his shirt barely contained the size of his chest and shoulders. "I mean, look at you, Davey."

David smirked, shaking his head. "Rach--"

"No, seriously," she interrupted, tilting her head, eyes bright with amusement. "You're built like a damn Greek statue, and then there's this whole"--she waved her hand vaguely in his direction--"thing you've got going on. I don't think you even realize what you do to people."

David exhaled a short laugh, leaning back in his chair. "Trust me, there are some things you can't work out to make grow."

Rachel chuckled, tilting her head. "True, but that's not what I'm talking about." She tapped a finger against the side of her mug, studying him. "It's more than just muscle. It's your energy. Your presence. You walk into a room, and people notice. You don't even have to try."

David arched a brow, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. "Rach--"

"I mean it," she insisted. "It's the way you carry yourself. You're confident without being cocky."

David smirked at that, tipping his cup toward her. "Oh, I'm plenty cocky when I need to be."

Rachel grinned, shaking her head. "See, that's the difference. Most men want to impress people. You don't. Yet somehow, everyone you meet is impressed."

David held her gaze for a long moment, the teasing fading slightly as something unspoken passed between them. He could deflect all he wanted, but Rachel wasn't wrong, and they both knew it.

He exhaled, shaking his head. "I just don't have the energy to care what people think."

Rachel's smile softened, but there was something knowing in her eyes. "Maybe," she allowed. "Or maybe you just don't need to care."

David huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he tried once again to steer the conversation in another direction. "What is this, Rachel? Some kind of late-game round of truth or dare?"

Rachel's lips curled into a slow, mischievous smile. "No," she said lightly, tilting her head. "But it could be fun."

Before he could respond, she stood, her movements fluid and deliberate. She stepped toward him, closing the space between them until she was standing directly between his spread legs as he sat in the kitchen chair. His body tensed, but he didn't move away. She was close--too close. Close enough that he could smell the faint, earthy mix of lavender and citrus in her hair.

Rachel glanced down at him, her voice softer but no less teasing. "I know what I felt when we hugged a couple of weeks ago."

David felt his entire body go rigid. Heat crept up his neck, and to his horror, he actually blushed. He cursed under his breath and exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Rach--"

"Don't 'Rach' me," she interrupted smoothly, watching him with something that wasn't quite amusement but wasn't entirely innocent either. "You don't have to apologize, Davey. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

He swallowed hard. His usual confidence, the easy command he held in most situations, felt suddenly out of reach. Rachel was Emily's kid sister. He shouldn't even be having this conversation, much less sitting here with her standing between his thighs, looking down at him with something dangerously close to challenge in her eyes.

"We're both adults," she added, her voice quieter now, but no less firm.

He let out a slow breath, willing himself to push back--to reestablish boundaries that had suddenly started to blur. "Rachel," he said evenly, meeting her gaze. "You're my dead wife's kid sister."

Rachel smiled at that, slow and knowing. She leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping to something softer, more intimate. "I'm not a kid anymore, David."

David pulls his eyes from hers long enough to see her full, shapely breasts hanging bra free under her t-shirt. Rachel notices too and reaches out to take her brother-in-law's hands and put them on her tits.

David sighs, "Rach, what are you doing?"

Rachel smiles, "I'm not a kid anymore Davey, and I know what I want. Do you remember what you said to me after the funeral?"

David shook his head, almost ashamed at his body's response. He is gently caressing her tits, teasing her nipples to hardness. He swallows and shakes his head. "I don't remember much of those days."

Rachel patted his legs together and opened hers as she straddled his lap. She leaned forward, still allowing him free access to her amazing D cup tits. "You said, "It's just me and you now, kid. Em may be gone, but I will still be there to take care of you when you call." She leaned forward further, her lips inches from his, "I'm calling and I need you to take care of me."

David's jaw clenched as every muscle in his body tensed. He needed to put some space between them, to shut this down before it crossed a line he couldn't come back from. But his body--his traitorous body--wasn't getting the message. Rachel was too close, her scent wrapping around him, her breath warm against his skin. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the subtle pressure of her thighs brushing against the outside of his own as she leaned in even more.

His hands curled into fists on his lap, his breathing deliberately slow as he fought for control. This is Rachel. Emily's little sister. He kept repeating it in his head like a damn mantra, but it didn't stop his reaction to her.

Rachel, for her part, wasn't making it any easier. She smiled, sensing his struggle, and instead of backing off, she doubled down. Her fingers traced lightly over his shoulders, pressing into the dense muscle there before sliding up the side of his neck. "You can relax, Davey," she murmured, her voice low and knowing. "It's just us."

His throat worked around a swallow. "Rachel..." He meant for it to be a warning, but it came out rough, uneven.

She leaned in, her lips grazing the shell of his ear before she caught the lobe between her teeth and bit down, just enough to make his breath hitch. "Tell me," she whispered, "what are you going to do to Claire?"

David stiffened, his head snapping back slightly as he stared at her, surprised by the shift. His pulse pounded, though whether from desire or the mention of Claire, he wasn't sure. Rachel had always been perceptive, but this--this was something else entirely.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his hands gripping the sides of the chair as though grounding himself. "Rachel, don't." His voice was strained, thick with something unspoken.

She chuckled, low and sultry, and the sound of it sent another jolt of heat through his veins. "Don't what?" she mused, brushing her lips against his jawline now, her hands sliding down to his forearms, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. "Don't ask? Or don't stop?"

David let out a ragged breath, his control hanging by a thread. He needed to get the hell out of here. Needed to put distance between them before he did something he shouldn't. But Rachel wasn't letting up, and worst of all, a dark, selfish part of him didn't want her to. "What do you want to know?"

Rachel knew she was in control now, "I want to know what you are going to do to her."

David growled, his voice low. "I am going to break her. I am going to leave her a whimpering mess of orgasms and cum."

Rachel nibbled his neck, "Details my boy, details."

"What the fuck, Rach?" he growled, but continued. "I'm going to push her against the wall with my hand to her throat. I am going to kiss her, grope her, tease her until she begs me for more."

Rachel ground herself against his stiff cock, "Kind of like what I am doing to you now."

Dave sighed and his voice was broken, "Kind of like this, yes. I am going to make sure Jonathan hears her beg to suck my cock. I'll gently push her shoulders to let her know what I expect."

Rachel slid from his lap, "I don't need to be encouraged." Her hands rubbed the front of his workout pants. She tugged on the string, and without thinking David lifted his hips allowing his cock free from its prison. "Jesus, David. Emily was right, you are hung." she whispered as her hands went to the girthy shaft. "Show me what's next," she whispered as she moved one of her hands to his and pulled it behind her head.

David pulled her forward, her mouth opening to slide the head of his prick into her mouth, "Then I will have her suck my cock, just like you are doing." His hips began to rise and fall, trying to take control of his sister in law's actions, but Rachel was having nothing to do with it. She continued to slowly slide her mouth up and down the shaft. Her eyes never leaving his.

She pulled her mouth away, leaving a bridge of saliva keeping them connected. Her hand kept stroking his shaft as she whispered, "WIll you make her gag?"

Before David could answer, Ashley slid him as far into her throat as she could manage before she started to gag. David reached down with his hand and held her there for a few seconds, which caused her eyes to water. When he finally released her, she came up gasping for air. "Yes, I'll make her choke on my cock," he whispered.

Before her mouth went back to work on his saliva covered prick she smirked, "Will you make her swallow your cum, or will you make her wear your cum?"

David sighed as his dick was enveloped by her moist, warm mouth. "No, the first load is going to be buried deep inside of her tight cunt."

Rachel orgasm'd at his words, her head bobbing up and down his shaft as the release ran through her body. When the orgasm finally passed she released his cock from her velvety mouth, "Fuck that was hot."

David smirked, "No touch orgasm, I'm impressed."

Rachel slid back to her feet like a predator ready to devour her prey. She smirked, "Remember when I visited you all from college? I'd beg Emily to seduce you so I could listen to the two of you fuck. It was so hot, you were such a beast in bed, sure of yourself, confident, demanding. Yet, I always heard her cum 3 or 4 times. You were nothing like the pump and dump chumps I was seeing in college. So I learned to cum just from listening to you two through the wall."

David arched an eyebrow, "So are we done here?"

Rachel eyed his raging hard on that was pulsing on its own. "No, Sir. We are far from done here." She gathered her long skirt up around her waist and opened her legs to again straddle David's lap. Only this time, she let her pussy hover over his cock. "I'm going to be slow, I've never been with anyone quite this size."

"Let me help, Rach." The next thing she knew she was in the air, lifted by her spread thighs and then she was sitting on the kitchen countertop, head high, with her brother-in laws face between her thighs. Before she could protest... or beg, she felt his hot, powerful tongue as it seemed to find her entire wet cunt in one motion.

She looked down and saw a huge smile on Dave's face as his tongue worked like a busy animal that dodged here and then there. Tickle and lap and even thrum; sucking everything she had deep into his mouth and mushing it around there. After a bit, he found the spot, her spot. Not on her clit, but the one above her clit that she found when she needed to cum, but few lovers had ever been patient enough to find.

David knew immediately as a deep primal groan slid from her lips and her hand gripped his hair. Rachel had always been a one orgasm girl. "One and done," as her former lover used to tease. She didn't want to cum this quickly, she wanted it to linger and build. However, her body had a mind of its own and she came, thrusting her hips against Dave's mouth, enjoying the feeling of his mustache as it scratched in all of the right places.

He was looking up, watching her face, and she realized that was something she had enver experienced. David's piercing green eyes watched every contortion of her face, her breathing. He took in every piece of information that he could process and used it against her as he didn't stop. Shocked, her body didn't retreat, it craved more.

Her mind raced with her new reality. 'Yes. Do that. Do that again. Harder is good. Faster is good. Uh huh. Just keep that up for a while. Oh shit, oh fuck...' She was used to giving instructions, to taking control of her own pleasure, but with David she couldn't form words, but it was like he was reading her mind. She didn't have to take pleasure, he just gave it, and kept giving it. Reading everything in her body perfectly. Her breathing grew more labored, more frantic, she felt like she would pass out. And, David didn't give a shit. And that was good. He was lost in that soft slick wonderland. And Rachel sailed up and up and up until the next orgasm caused her to scream. Loud, high pitched - like no sound that had ever come from her body.

Before she could come down and process that she had just had two orgasms, she was in mid air; really in mid air, because David had stood and had picked her up, a huge hand under each thigh, and lifted her high off the countertop, and slowly lowered her down his chest and dadbod abs, until she felt the crown of that amazing cock, so erect, and that fat mushroom; and it was stiffer than she expected; and she felt it pushing her open, spreading her swollen lips even wider. And there was beautiful resistance, a delicious ache; and she felt her insides pulsing, trying to accept this new, large, so large....

"Oh fuck," she whispered, "Slow."

David smirked, "No words, you gave up control long ago Rachel, just take what I am going to give you." To Rachel it sounded like he growled as the thick bulb popped in. But he held her there, just there, just inside, where the thickness of it pushed against her G spot. A little lift, a little drop with those huge hands. He knew he had found the spot and just kept fucking her, only an inch or two. His fat cock stretched her enough to engage her clit, and that pronounced ridge teased her G spot until her third orgasm tore through her body as David just held her, effortlessly. Rachel arched her back, her long hair flowing down, and David just kept with the little lifts, with tiny hip thrusts to drive the orgasm on and on and on.

Rachel was exhausted, but David was just getting started. He somehow moved his hands to her back without her moving an inch and helped her sit back up to wrap her arms around his neck. With her face at the level of his chin, slick with her own offerings. She sucked her own cum off of his chin as she looked up into his bright green eyes, that were so intense she almost had an orgasm from just looking into them.

Her mouth was open, feeling it, feeling so full, waiting until... yes! That was the spot. She nodded breathlessly, mouth still open. She didn't know if she could have another orgasm, hell she was shocked she had had more than one but he had found the spot, but he wanted more. Rachel wondered what next trick he had up his sleeve. Then he tilted her, oh, the genius of it.... How did he know? So that the head, the firmness of it, found the perfect angle so that when he moved, he pushed deeper into her wet pussy. Something in her womb said yes, and she squirmed to get more, and he rocked her so she could get it; and for a small forever they stayed like that, his thrusts so small, but just right.

Then the twinkle in his eye and that smirk. The growl came back and he dropped her. Not far. Just far enough that the fat head of his glorious prick, planted all the way deep in her. And he didn't move, just left it there. And she was breathless. Completely filled. And as she had imagined, that wide base of his formidable cock was stretching her apart; and there was a beautiful ache to it.

And something rose in her that really wanted to move. If he had been on his back she would have started riding him hard; perhaps starting by lifting off until he was almost out, the lip of that huge cock, then dropping hard and deep. But she couldn't do that. Here she was, held half-way up his body, anchored on his cock and dependent on those massive hands and muscular arms to move her the way she needed.

Well, what the hell. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist, locking her ankles above his sturdy ass, leaning back a bit against the smooth cool side of the refrigerator. She had no idea how or when he had moved her, but he had. She gave her hips a little push. She felt so hot and wet. She was a molten core melting down at this point.

She wanted him to fuck her, to completely claim her body as his property. She looked him in the eyes, her hands taking a firm grip on the back of his arms just above the elbow and thrust her hips hard against him. He gave her a smirk, "My turn," he growled. He held her gaze as he started to move

Beginning slowly, it was like nothing she had ever felt, the incredible pulling as the ridge of that great mushroom dragged through her, and then a deep charge, seating hard, an ache, and then some incredible stirring. Many, many times. Not getting any faster. Reading her face to see exactly which angle and what force gave her the most pleasure. Rachel didn't need to speak a word, her body was telling him everything he needed to know.

She wasn't passive. She bucked against him. Grinding when he stirred. Letting him know it was time to pick up the pace. What turned her on, almost more than anything else, was that he was not quiet. Every thrust, every pull, every churn was accompanied by groans and growls of the most heartfelt depth. She could tell that she was stroking him as strongly as he was stroking her.

Something in her was building. She had never, ever cum from intercourse without a finger or vibrator on her clit. Being fucked just didn't take her there. But this was different. That heat, that pressure, that funny tickle was telling her that she was going to release. She didn't want to, not yet. He had her on this high electric ridge and she wanted it to go on and on.

But they were getting faster. They couldn't help it. She could see his powerful shoulder muscles flex under his t-shirt. She wanted to ask him if it was hard to hold her, but then he thrust once deep and hard and she no longer cared about that."Oh yes, fuck, me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, yes keep on fucking me just like that."

And she fucked him back as hard as she could, her sweaty back jamming against the refrigerator, the shelves rattling in time with their sex. Rachel couldn't breathe, but she couldn't stop.

David growled, "Cum on my cock Rachel, I'm not going to stop until you cum all over my cock."

Rachel felt something she had never felt before, "So close, so close, oh god, oh fuck. I'm going to cum" This was like nothing she had ever experienced, she was out of control and this orgasm was... different. David lifted her high onto his prick and lowered her three or four times then pulled her completely off and she unleashed a stream of liquid that shocked her. It was hot and it went everywhere, but David didn't care. As soon as she had finished he drove up into her with enough force that her entire body felt like it was seeing stars.

Then, it was indeed David's turn. His eyes got even more intense as a roar poured from his mouth. Deep within her molten tunnel she felt him erupt. It was almost hot and it kept coming and coming and it triggered something in her and a shock went through her legs and her gut clenched as it hit her. Her hips couldn't stop moving, one pop after another, aching deep under her belly button as it, this unnamed force just tried to get it all.

He pressed her hard against the refrigerator as they each shuddered again and again. She had her mouth crushed against his chest and she couldn't help crying into him. She knew he could feel her voice entering his skin. And he could certainly feel her teeth as she took a mouthful of skin and massaged it hard, with her tongue. He would show a serious love bite there. She was crying, whether it was the emotional intensity, the physical intensity, or months of shared grief.

Her brain was mush and she felt so safe and protected wrapped in his arms. She never wanted it to end. But eventually, his erection slowly curled inside her, it slipped out and she felt their joined liquids run down her belly and legs as he lowered her to the floor. Rachel felt more empty than she had ever felt in her life.

David slowly lowered her to the floor, letting her shaky legs recover as she kept her head buried against his chest. He whispered, "Are we okay, Rach?"

Rachel sighed, "Oh yeah, we are more than okay. That was," she paused looking for the right word, "Incredible. The things you did to me." Her entire body shivered, "Just damn. I do have one question though."

David chuckled, "You always have a question, Rach."

She gently punched him in the chest, "Were you with me, or were you thinking about Em?"

David smiled, "I was fully present, you and she were alike in many ways - but this. This wasn't one of them. I was with you, Rachel." He cupped her face in those big hands and kissed her forehead.

Rachel sighed, "Kiss me."

David had barely stepped into the office when Alex McClear appeared in front of him, looking like the cat that ate the canary. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness between them despite what had happened last week. He had expected something--a lingering moment, a knowing look, anything that acknowledged they'd crossed a line--but Alex was as smooth as ever. No strings, she had said, and she was living up to it. If anything, she seemed even more relaxed, as if she was thriving on whatever was about to come out of her mouth.

David narrowed his eyes. "Alright, McClear, what's with the shit-eating grin?"

Alex folded her arms and rocked back on her heels, letting him stew. "Take a guess."

He exhaled, already knowing he wouldn't like where this was going. "You finally learned how to cook something besides reservations?"

She smirked. "Cute, but no."

"You met someone who can tolerate you for more than five minutes?"

Alex feigned offense, placing a hand over her chest. "Now that's just rude. And also incorrect."

David sighed, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off her game. "Just tell me, McClear."

She grinned wider. "Claire Hart invited me to lunch today."

His brows lifted slightly before amusement curved at the corner of his lips. "Did she now?"

"Freddy's," Alex confirmed, naming the high-end fusion restaurant that had quickly become one of the trendiest spots in the city. "Interesting choice, don't you think?"

David chuckled, shaking his head. "Very."

Alex tilted her head, watching him. Then, her expression turned positively devilish. "Bring someone gorgeous and take her to lunch at the same time. It'll drive Claire mad."

David laughed, shaking his head. "You're actually evil."

Alex's smirk never wavered. "And you're just now figuring that out?"

David ran a hand over his jaw, considering it. "The problem is, most of my clients are men."

Alex's eyes sparked with something mischievous, and then she snapped her fingers. "I've got it. She checks all the boxes--powerful, sophisticated, gorgeous, flirtatious, and ten years younger than Claire."

He arched a brow. "Who?"

Before he could even finish the thought, Alex's fingers were already flying over her phone. She typed quickly, her expression gleeful, and then, thirty seconds later, her phone chimed. She turned the screen toward him, showing him a confirmation message.

"Pick up Juliette Sinclair at Morrison & Caldwell at 11:45. She'll be ready."

David huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

Alex winked as she started to walk away, but just before she disappeared down the hall, she called back over her shoulder, "Oh, and park the BMW. Take the Mustang--trust me."

At precisely 11:45, David pulled up to the sleek glass-and-steel high-rise that housed Morrison & Caldwell, one of the most prestigious financial firms in the city. The Mustang rumbled beneath him, a stark contrast to the luxury sedans and blacked-out SUVs idling nearby. Alex had insisted on this car for a reason, and he had to admit--it made a statement.

Then, the doors of the building parted, and she stepped out.

Juliette Sinclair was the kind of woman who turned heads without trying. Tall and effortlessly poised, she moved with the kind of confidence that only came from knowing exactly who she was. Her caramel-brown hair was sleek and straight, falling just past her shoulders, framing a face that was all high cheekbones and full lips. Cat-like hazel eyes flicked over the car with interest before settling on him, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

She was dressed to kill. A deep emerald-green dress clung to her curves, hugging her in all the right places while still maintaining an air of elegance. The neckline was modest--just enough to tease--but the slit up one leg made it clear she wasn't afraid of a little attention. Gold heels glinted in the sunlight as she strode toward him, long legs moving like she owned the pavement beneath her.

David leaned over and pushed the passenger door open. "Juliette."

She slid in gracefully, crossing her legs as she turned to him with an arched brow. "So, Alex texts me, tells me to play 'the role,' and now I'm in a muscle car with you on the way to lunch. Intriguing."

David smirked as he pulled away from the curb, merging into traffic with ease. "You trust Alex too much."

Juliette laughed, a sultry sound that suited her. "She's never steered me wrong. Yet." She studied him, eyes sharp with curiosity. "So what's the role, exactly?"

David glanced at her, amused. "Before I answer that, how much do you enjoy games?"

Her lips curled at the corners. "Oh, I love them. Especially when there's strategy involved."

He nodded approvingly. "Good. Because this one is very strategic."

Juliette leaned in slightly, anticipation dancing in her gaze. "Do tell."

David's fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel as he began. "Claire Hart--Jonathan Hart's wife--is expecting to have a power lunch with Alex today. Claire's... an interesting woman. Rich, entitled, and very used to being the center of attention." He shot her a sidelong look. "Which is why you and I are about to completely ruin her day."

Juliette's brow lifted with intrigue. "And why do we want to ruin her day?"

David exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening for just a moment. Then, he turned toward her fully at a red light. "Because my late wife, Emily, was sleeping with Jonathan Hart when she was killed. And this--" his lips quirked into something dangerously close to a smirk, but there was no humor in his eyes, "--is my revenge."

For a beat, Juliette just stared at him, processing. Then, slowly, her smirk widened into something almost wicked.

"Oh," she purred, "this is going to be fun. But you owe me one."

David smiled, "I'm sure I do. Dinner, Diamonds - you name it."

Juliette didn't blink. "After talking with Alex the other day. Your cock. Plain and simple. Alex said you ruined her and I need ruined."

The moment David and Juliette stepped into Freddy's, heads turned. It wasn't just the sleek confidence with which they carried themselves--it was the chemistry, the presence they exuded. David, towering and powerful in his tailored charcoal suit, moved with quiet authority, his gaze sharp and assessing. And Juliette... she was the perfect counterpart, draped in elegance yet radiating sensuality, her emerald dress accentuating every graceful curve. Together, they were a striking duo--impossible to ignore.

David immediately spotted Alex at a prime table near the center of the restaurant, seated across from Claire Hart. The Claire Hart. Wealthy, immaculately put together, and currently engaged in an undoubtedly self-important conversation. But as David and Juliette approached, Claire's gaze flicked upward, and for just a second--just a flash--her composure cracked.

Showtime.

"Ladies," David greeted smoothly, his deep voice sending a ripple through the moment. He didn't miss the way Claire's spine straightened ever so slightly, or how her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. He let it hang in the air for a beat before adding, "I see you two have already settled in."

Alex, ever the puppet master, gave a slow, knowing smile. "We have. Though I didn't realize you were coming to Freddy's today." Her eyes twinkled as they slid to Juliette. "And with such... exquisite company."

Juliette played her role to perfection. She slid her fingers down David's arm as if it were second nature, leaning into his side just enough to suggest intimacy without overplaying it. "Well, I had to finally steal him away for lunch," she said, her voice silk and smoke. "I've been waiting for months."

Claire's lips parted just slightly, but she caught herself, shifting her expression into something more neutral. Almost bored. Almost. "Months?" she asked, her voice light but her eyes anything but.

Juliette smiled, all confidence and charm. "Oh, absolutely. You don't just let a man like David Williams slip by without trying to claim him, do you?" She punctuated it with a delicate laugh, squeezing David's forearm.

Alex let out a soft chuckle and took a slow sip of her wine, watching the tension unfold like a master sculptor admiring her latest creation. "I suppose some of us are just more patient than others," she mused. "But Juliette's right. She's had her eye on him for a while now." She tilted her head, letting her gaze linger on David just long enough for Claire to notice. "And I do understand the appeal."

David smirked slightly, but remained silent, letting the women weave the illusion around him.

Claire's expression barely shifted, but there was a flicker--something dark and simmering beneath her carefully curated façade. A mix of intrigue, irritation, and something else. Something hungry.

Alex, enjoying herself far too much, leaned back in her chair and sighed, as if reminiscing. "There's just something about David, isn't there?" She let her gaze drift over him, her lips curling as she added, "I mean, physically, obviously. But it's more than that. The energy, the intensity... it's palpable."

Claire exhaled, a slow, measured breath through her nose, and Alex knew she had her.

Juliette, not missing a beat, ran a single finger down David's forearm, her nails barely scraping against his skin. "Tell me about it," she purred, giving Alex a conspiratorial smile. "That intensity can be... overwhelming."

For the briefest second, Claire's throat bobbed as she swallowed.

Alex, feigning innocence, lifted her glass again. "Mmm. I know exactly what you mean." She let the words sit between them, just ambiguous enough to tease the imagination. Then, with a flick of her gaze, she smiled at Claire--slow, sultry, and just smug enough to sting.

Claire shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other.

David cleared his throat, letting his fingers brush the small of Juliette's back. "We should head to our table," he said smoothly. "Enjoy your lunch, ladies."

Juliette nodded, giving Claire a knowing smile before linking her arm through David's and leading him away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Claire turned to Alex, eyes narrowed.

"What the hell was that?"

Alex took another languid sip of wine and shrugged. "Lunch."

Claire leaned in slightly, her voice lower now. "Is that... real?"

Alex tilted her head, as if considering. "I mean, I assume so. But I suppose if you really want to know, you could ask David yourself." She smirked. "Or Juliette. She's certainly... enthusiastic."

Claire exhaled sharply through her nose. "Jesus. I mean, I knew he'd move on eventually, but her?"

Alex quirked a brow. "Oh? Who did you think he'd move on with?"

Claire hesitated--just for a breath--but Alex caught it.

Gotcha.

Alex leaned in, lowering her voice just enough to feel intimate. "You're rattled."

Claire scoffed. "Please."

Alex chuckled. "No, really. You are. And it's okay, Claire. I get it." She let her fingers trail along the rim of her wine glass, her expression thoughtful. "David has that effect. And I'll admit, there's something... intoxicating about it, isn't there?"

Claire's breath hitched, so imperceptibly that most wouldn't have noticed. But Alex? Alex saw everything.

She smiled, slow and knowing, then lifted her glass. "To new beginnings," she murmured.

Claire hesitated, then--perhaps out of defiance, or perhaps something else--clinked her glass against Alex's.

But as they drank, Alex knew one thing for certain:

Claire Hart was hooked.

David chuckled as he took a slow sip of his whiskey, his sharp eyes following Alex as she exited the restaurant. "Oh, she knows exactly what she's doing," he mused.

Juliette smirked, resting her chin on her hand as she twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. "Mmm, calculated seduction. I like it. But tell me--was that for you or for Claire?"

David huffed out a laugh. "Both. She enjoys keeping people off balance." He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out as he turned his gaze back to Juliette. "Kind of like you."

Juliette lifted a brow. "Me? Oh, darling, I don't play games--I just win them."

David's lips curled. "Good to know."

She took a sip of her wine, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "So, how long are we going to keep playing with Claire before you put her out of her misery?"

David considered that for a moment, running his thumb along the rim of his glass. "Not sure. I think I'm enjoying watching her squirm."

Juliette sighed dramatically. "You men--always dragging things out when there are far more... efficient ways to get what you want."

David arched a brow. "And what would you suggest?"

Juliette leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Make her beg for it." She tilted her head. "Nothing makes a woman want something more than thinking she can't have it."

David smirked, shaking his head. "You're dangerous."

Juliette clinked her glass against his, grinning. "Only when I want to be."

David swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching Juliette with amusement as she leaned in, her eyes full of mischief. "Alright," he said, humoring her. "Tell me how I make Claire beg."

Juliette smirked, setting her wine glass down and folding her arms on the table, her body language relaxed but predatory. "You're already halfway there. You've planted the seed--the idea that you've moved on, that she's missed her chance. But here's where most men screw up." She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "They get impatient. They chase."

David arched a brow. "And I don't strike you as the chasing type?"

She laughed, low and throaty. "Oh, you are--when you want something badly enough. But with Claire? No." She traced an idle circle on the table with her fingertip. "You're going to make her chase you. Keep doing what you're doing--being seen, being desired. Show her glimpses of what she could have, but never let her think it's within reach. A look that lingers a second too long. A hand at the small of her back that disappears before she can lean into it." Juliette's lips curved wickedly. "Give her just enough to make her crave more--but never enough to satisfy."

David chuckled. "You make it sound like a game of starvation."

Juliette shrugged. "Desire is starvation, darling. The more she thinks she can't have you, the more she'll convince herself she needs you." She picked up her glass and took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his. "And then, one day, when she's ready to break... you let her think she's finally getting what she wants."

David smirked. "Let her think?"

Juliette smiled, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "And then pull back."

David exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with amusement. "You're a dangerous woman."

She lifted a shoulder in a slow, lazy shrug. "You keep saying that." Then she leaned in, resting her chin on her hand as she studied him. "So? Are you going to take my advice?"

He smirked, swirling the last of his whiskey. "Maybe."

Juliette clicked her tongue. "Oh, I know you will. Which means..." She tapped a manicured nail against the rim of her glass. "My fee just went up."

David arched a brow. "Oh yeah? From lunch date to what?"

Juliette's lips parted in a slow, deliberate smile, her voice dropping to a near purr. "Consultant."

David huffed a quiet laugh. "And how much does that cost me?"

She leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other as she grinned. "I get to ride before Claire."

David blinked, then chuckled low in his throat, shaking his head. "Jesus, Juliette."

She laughed, reaching for her glass again. "What? You didn't think I was just here for the food, did you?"

Claire adjusted the incline on the treadmill, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of her steps instead of the mess of thoughts in her head. David was here somewhere--he always was lately--but she hadn't let herself look for him. Not yet. She needed to settle her nerves first.

She had barely found her pace when she caught snippets of a conversation from the two women a few machines over. She hadn't been paying attention at first, but then--his name.

"God, he looks good."

"I didn't know you could even grow muscle over 40, but damn." The other woman scoffed. "He was always hot, but now? The man's a machine. I mean, have you seen his ass? Jesus. If I were his next girlfriend, I'd be worried about my pelvis."

Laughter. Claire kept her eyes forward, but her fingers curled tighter around the rails.

"He's been here a lot more since Emily died," the first woman mused. "I don't think I ever saw him here this often before."

"Probably working through the grief." A pause. Then, a little lower--"Or maybe just working through someone else."

More laughter. Claire forced herself to breathe evenly, telling herself it didn't matter, that it wasn't her business. But then--

"You know," one of them said, dropping her voice conspiratorially, "I heard something crazy at the hospital the other day."

Claire didn't want to listen. She didn't. But her body stiffened anyway.

"What?"

"One of the ER nurses was talking about it. Apparently, there was a rumor going around that Emily and Jonathan Hart, the guy driving the car when Emily was killed" --Claire's ears really perked up at the mention of her husband's name. "were actually an item when she died."

The treadmill's steady hum faded into the background.

"No way," the other woman scoffed.

"Swear to God. That conference? Just an excuse to be away together for a week."

Claire's stomach twisted violently, bile rising so fast she had to slap the stop button on the treadmill before she doubled over. Emily. And Jonathan. The words crashed through her, a sharp, twisting blade of betrayal and disbelief. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

Could it? She barely registered the concerned looks from the women as she grabbed her towel and water bottle and bolted for the locker room, her pulse hammering in her ears. David knew. He had to have known.