He braced his feet on the floor and thrust into her harder, increasing the pressure and speed. She watched him, her darkened eyes on his. Her breasts bobbed, and she panted faster. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Come for me, Ginger,” he said.
She clenched her teeth, then threw her head back and screamed as he kept pumping into her. Her walls tightened and milked his cock, making him hiss as an electric sensation spread all over him. She looked like a goddess, her golden hair cascading around her, and her body glowing with pleasure.
Unable to wait anymore, he gripped her ass hard as he ground into her. “Mine,” he grated out, then let go and came inside her.
Her arms relaxed around him. The kiss she gave him was cotton candy sweet.
Content with the world, he kissed her back leisurely. Then sighed when the intercom buzzed.
Her belly growled on cue, and she pulled back with a giggle. “Lunch.”
He grazed her stomach with a finger. “Your wish is my command.”
* * *
Ginger munched on a slice of pizza as she looked around the penthouse. Everything was immaculate; it hadn’t changed at all since the day she’d come over to return the engagement ring. The housekeeping had kept the place in tiptop shape, and all the photos and albums on the mantle over the fireplace were dust-free.
Shane pulled three of the albums and brought them to the low table where their pizza was spread out. “So. Are the pictures inside all mine?” he asked.
“No. Some of them are mine and some are your family photographer’s.” She flipped opened the black one. Shane had never let her peek inside it before, calling it “a bunch of old family photos and stupid stuff”.
Inside were pictures of Shane as a baby, then his transformation into a toddler…a boy…then a man. He hadn’t been the happiest child. Kids generally weren’t shy and awkward in front of cameras, especially when they were handsome and generally outgoing. But Shane’s smiles were either stoic or obviously staged at the photographer’s direction. And he wasn’t the only one. His siblings also posed like store mannequins, and his parents were just as stiff, even in the shots where they had their arms around each other.
“Do you remember any of it?” she asked, looking at him.
“No. I just know we weren’t all that happy.”
“Things could change, you know,” she said. “Ceinlys was so…relaxed at the dinner. I’ve never seen her like that before.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“What about your dad? Has he called you yet?”
“Nah. And I don’t really expect him to. He never wanted me anyway.” He gave her a rueful smile that made her chest tight. “Yeah, I remember that much. Anyway, let’s not talk about that boring stuff. If you want to look through the photos, feel free. I’m going to nap now that I’m full.” He patted his stomach. “Join me?”
“If I nap now I’m not going to be able to fall asleep tonight.” She wanted to look at the rest of the albums, especially the ones he’d never let her see.
He nodded and closed his eyes. Soon he was snoring softly, his face slack and relaxed. She pulled an afghan over him and turned back to the albums.
Finally she reached a red one. She hadn’t seen that one either. She’d never understood why he’d kept so many if he didn’t want to show them to anybody. He certainly hadn’t looked at them much.
When she flipped the pages, an envelope dropped to the floor. She picked it up. It held something stiff inside, maybe a few photos he hadn’t yet mounted? There were only two words on the envelope—Re: Ginger.
Tilting her head, she opened it. Six photos spilled out onto her hands, then fell to the floor as she started shaking violently.
Her vision hazed, her mouth going dry. She blinked a few times, trying to focus on them, to see the details. Her heart pounded erratically, and something bitter and nasty coursed through her veins. She clenched her teeth as her stomach twisted hard, pushing the pizza back up.
She fell to her knees in front of the glossy photos. They were of her…and some men. They were in some kind of club, but she didn’t recognize the location. And she didn’t recognize anybody else in the pictures except herself.
But in the photos, she was laughing with the men. One of them had his hand on the small of her back and was leaning close, his face a handsbreadth away from her breasts. He wasn’t an ugly man, but she would’ve never allowed somebody she didn’t even know that kind of liberty, even if she’d been single.
Then there was another one of her dancing and laughing. Again, surrounded by men. They looked at her, and it appeared they were eye-fucking her even in the dim light.
Somebody buying her a drink. She accepting it with a flirty grin and a hand on the collar of his shirt.
She slowly gathered them up. They had to be photoshopped. There had to be some kind of inconsistency with the shadows or colors or…something that would show that they weren’t genuine.