Free PctureThis by Kaily Hart

Chapter One
     
    Christ, he was a sick fuck.
    Sam rubbed his hand over the rough stubble on his jaw, the raspy sound loud in the quiet room. Carla, Carrie, or whatever the hell her name was, had left. Hell, she hadn’t been able to get away fast enough once she’d figured it out. He could still smell the unmistakable scent of sex. It was thick and heavy in the air and wafted up from the ruined sheets he was lying on every time he moved. It’d been good—hard, fast and impersonal, just how he liked it. Okay, so it’d gone to crap at the end, but he’d gotten his rocks off and had no complaints in that regard. She’d been gorgeous and built, with a tongue that was more talented than most and a way of moving her hips when she rode him that had almost blown the top of his head off. So what was his problem and what the fuck was he doing? He shouldn’t still want to, shouldn’t need to—
    He shook his head in equal parts resignation and disgust as his hand unerringly found his hard cock. God, here he was. Playing with himself like some horny teenager, fantasizing about pussy and wild, rough, out of control sex—as if he didn’t get enough as it was. It shouldn’t even be possible for him to be this hard again this fast. He shuddered at the sensation as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and parted his legs to give himself more room. He couldn’t prevent the groan of anticipation when he reached down and cupped his balls with his other hand.
    Eyes riveted to the opposite wall, he gave in to the raging need that had plagued him for weeks, a need that was unrelenting in its fierce grip. A need he knew he couldn’t fight for long. It just made it worse.
    Yeah, he’d become one sick fuck all right.
    * * * * *
    “Well, thank you for your time and for the information. It was very helpful.”
    Not.
    Jillian put the phone down a little harder than she’d intended. It slammed back into the cradle with a sharp crack that more than matched her mood.
    Dammit .
    It’d been sold, again, three months earlier. Private auction, anonymous bidder and there was no way for her to find out who’d bought it. All she knew for sure was that it’d been a man. It figured. Damn , she’d been close this time. Not that she would have been able to afford to make even one bid herself. It had opened at fifteen thousand and after some fast and furious bidding had finally gone for a cool seventy-five thousand— dollars. Jeez, she’d probably be paying off her student loans for another twenty years and some guy had dropped seventy-five grand on a picture ?
    Jillian sighed. She wasn’t even sure what she’d do if she could uncover the identity of the new owner. She’d kept telling herself she’d be able to buy it one day once she got established. She’d planned on it, she’d counted on it. It was why she’d tried her damndest to keep track of it for the past ten years. Her only hope now was that it would sit in some private collection, gathering dust and never see the light of day. Yeah, right. She’d never, ever been that lucky. All those years ago, who would have thought? Deep down though she’d known and it had plagued her ever since. When she least expected it, it was going to come back and bite her on the ass. She just knew it.
    * * * * *
    “Sam? Man, are you even listening to me?”
    Sam couldn’t tear his eyes off her. The dark luster of her hair, the curve of her cheek, something about the shape of her body. It just now occurred to him, but he’d seen her around the building before. He’d noticed her legs he remembered, appreciated the toned lengths, the shapely calves and too easily imagined how they’d look wrapped around his waist or up around her ears. And her mouth. God, the things he’d thought about her mouth.
    How could I have forgotten that ?
    As soon as the thought formed he knew the answer. He had a strict hands-off rule at work that he’d never broken, not even in his head. Until her. He’d made himself