The Foxe & the Hound

Can’t you feel me starting to shake? I want to ask. Can’t you feel the way I’m starting to crumble beneath you?

He bends down and I have his hair in my hands. I’m tugging on the strands as his lips draw closer and closer to where I desperately need them. A lick. A taste. It’s hardly more than a few seconds of sensation, but the pleasure tears through me. He adds his thumb to the mix, swirling it across my bundle of nerves, and I’m crying out for him.

His free hand clamps over my mouth, trying to muffle my cries. His tongue drags across me. I try to stay quiet, but his fingers are working inside me, sliding in and out even faster. It’s like he’s telling me to stay quiet and moan louder all at once. I’m shaking. I’m close. The first few ripples of pleasure warn me that I’m going to crash and burn in a few seconds, that soon his hand will need to suffocate me completely to keep me quiet.

“Madeleine,” he whispers. “Madeleine.”

My name has taken on another meaning. It’s a plea and a command, and when I come for him, he says it a third time, pressing each syllable to the inside of my thigh.

I come back to earth slowly, putting together the pieces of our closet rendezvous as Adam crawls off me and tugs my skirt back into place. My shirt is still missing. My bra is unhooked, sitting askew on my chest. I’m pretty sure I have second-degree carpet burn on my back.

Adam is already standing.

“What about you?”

I think I see him smile in the dark. “There’s not enough time.”

Of course there’s not enough time!

“Oh God. I can’t believe we did that while your mom and sister-in-law were in the house.” I groan as he pulls me up to stand beside him.

He chuckles and helps me straighten my clothes.

The closet door is unlocked and pushed open. I have no clue how long we were in there, but it was long enough that I have to blink my eyes as they adjust to the light in the master bedroom.

“You look great,” he says, fixing his now-wrinkled scrubs.

He looks sexy, but his hair is tousled and his lips are red. A quick glance in the master bathroom mirror proves that I look a million times worse. My makeup is smeared. My clothes are creased. My hair is frizzy, and no amount of finger combing will flatten it back down to normal.

“Relax,” Adam says, eyeing me from the doorway. “They probably haven’t even realized we’ve been gone that long.”

Oh they realized all right. Diane has a knowing smile on her face when we stroll into the kitchen a few minutes later.

“And so that’s the house,” I announce to Adam as though I’m trying to conclude a fake tour.

“Wow. That was some tour,” Kathy says with a laugh. “We’ve been sitting here for almost thirty minutes.”

Adam nods. “Yeah, I really liked the house. I wanted Madeleine to show me every nook and cranny.”

“And did you, Madeleine?” Kathy asks with feigned innocence. “Did you show Adam every nook and cranny?”

Adam tries and fails to cover a laugh.

I pretend like I don’t understand subtle innuendos.

In all, it’s the most embarrassing experience of my entire life, and I decide that I won’t be able to look Diane or Kathy in the eye for at least a month.

Maybe a year.





CHAPTER NINETEEN





ADAM


I keep my promise and don’t see Madeleine until the real estate mixer the following weekend. I’m not happy about it, and my office staff isn’t either. They don’t know the source of my moodiness, why I’m suddenly quick to snap and annoyed by minor mistakes, but I can tell they’re all scared to be around me. One morning midweek, I am about to wish one of the assistants a good morning and she scurries out of the reception area so fast that she spills half her coffee on the floor.

I get it. I’m not that fun to be around, and Madeleine is to blame.

Each day, I count down to the mixer. I wake up and I think about the closet back at the farmhouse. Even after a morning run, an extra intense boxing session in the gym, and an exhausting pick-up basketball game, the memories of what she tasted like are right there, clearer than ever.

The night of the mixer, I head straight home from work and shower quickly. I feel like I’m right back in high school, about to take my dream girl out on a date. I rush getting ready, and when I show up at the mixer on time, I assume I’ll be one of the first guests there.

Unfortunately, the brewery parking lot is nearly full—a side effect of free beer.

It’s a cool venue, rustic and old, nothing like I’d find back in Chicago. Instead of building from the ground up, the brewery took over an old granary, complete with rusted silos out back, old red bricks, and industrial beams. Right now, since the weather is still nice by Texas standards, they’ve pushed aside all of the glass-paneled doors so the patio stretches right into the main room, where the Hamilton Real Estate team has decked the place out for the evening. I spot one of the agents, Lori, right by the entrance, and she latches onto me before I even manage to step inside.

“Adam!? I didn’t expect you tonight,” she says, hooking her elbow through mine.

“Madeleine invited me.”

“Did she now? Funny, I didn’t think she’d be able to scrounge together any guests other than Daisy. Me, well, I had a hard time limiting my list—though Helen didn’t mind when I said I was bringing ten potential clients.”

I extricate myself from her grip and nod, feigning interest. “Right, well, that’s great. Listen, have you seen Madeleine?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she’s over by the bar, trying to chat up Carter just like the old days. They used to date, I think. Honestly though, when is she going to learn that you can’t throw yourself at every man you see? I mean, she’s pretty, but she just reeks of desperation if you ask me.”

I didn’t ask her. In fact, I started wandering away halfway through her rambling reply. Madeleine is by the counter, wearing a royal blue dress and nude high heels. Lori was wearing the same color, and a quick glance around the room shows that all of the agents must have been instructed to dress in the color for the evening. They’re easier to spot that way, though Madeleine needs no extra help in that department.

There’s a line of men winding around the bar trying to get their turn to talk to her. Oh sure, a few of them nurse beers and pretend to check their phones, but I know they’re just biding their time until she kicks the current guy to the curb so they can sidle up and talk to her under the guise of discussing real estate.

The current guy, some macho man in a black t-shirt and jeans, is staring at her with hearts in his eyes. Lori mentioned his name but I already forgot it. Fortunately, Madeleine reminds me just as I walk up.

“Carter, I can’t believe you let Lori talk you into coming tonight.”

He leans closer. “I knew you’d be here and I wanted to check up and see how you were doing.”

I clear my throat and the two of them turn to look at me in tandem.

Madeleine lets loose a heartbreaking smile. Carter’s smile is a bit more forced.

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