Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3

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Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3 Page 26

by Kay Elle Parker


  Thane spun her around and rapped her back against a streetlight. Her pussy clenched hard, then released a thick rush of arousal into her panties when she saw his eyes. Beautiful, rich amber darkening to a predatory gleam. The emotion in them was unlike anything she'd seen him display before, a combination of fierce possession, savage love, and an animalistic need to fuck.

  His body pressed flush against her, not an inch to spare between them. The obscene bulge in his jeans rocked between her thighs as his hands gripped her face, tilting it back so he could stare down at her. “You're mine. That's the be all and end all of the situation, Connie. I've claimed almost every inch of you, and by the time I fuck your tight little ass tonight, you will belong to me. I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know the woman you hide away, the one who keeps peeking at me when she thinks I'm not looking. I want to conquer you, tame you, bring you to heel. I want all of you, every day, until there're no more days left to live.”

  “Oh God,” she whispered.

  “More than that, I want to be yours every inch as much as you are mine. If I conquer you, I'll surrender. If I tame you, I'll submit. I'm the kind of guy who'll strip you down to nothing, down to the bare bones and soul, but I'll build you back up with strength and love. I'm not asking you to hand control over your life to me, sugar, but to share it with me equally. I want tomorrow and the day after, next year and the coming decade.” He pressed his lips to hers as her eyes welled with tears. “I'll take the tears and the tantrums, the nightmares and the orgasms. The good with the bad. I think we're perfect for each other, and my heart is in full agreement. You're mine, Connie, and I'm yours.”

  “You asshole,” she cried, and flung her arms around his neck. She didn't care if people were giving them weird looks, she couldn't give a fuck if they stopped and stared. All that mattered was that he'd said the words that made her insecurities fade into the background.

  That he gave her hope.

  Thane eased back and gave her a quiet smile. “Don't tell me you're surprised by the way I feel about you, Connie? There are very few women I'd go hunting through the desert for in the middle of the night.” He stepped away and offered his hand. “Wishing you'd refrained from asking the question now?”

  God, no. As long as the answer remained the same, she'd be asking it again and again. When she felt weak, when she felt down. When the world went crazy and left her behind. She slipped her fingers into his hand and let him lead her down to the crosswalk. Her laugh rang out as he dragged her across at a run, not bothering to press the button or wait for the green man to light up and say it was safe to cross.

  When they made it to the other side, Connie was breathless and elated, and flushed from the jostle of the plug in her rear. The harsh honks of a car they'd dashed in front of were ignored. It was the first time in months she'd felt anything stir beneath the thick smog of depression, and she finally believed there might actually be something to strive for.

  “This way, sugar.” Grinning like an idiot, her lover whisked her off at a brisk pace, his limp pronounced but not slowing him down.

  It hurt to think of the pain he'd been through. Alone. Somehow the idea of him suffering by himself seemed like the worst thing in the world. Lying in a hospital bed without a hand to hold, or someone to tell him it would all be okay.

  “I love you, Thane,” she blurted suddenly, stopping him in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk.

  Several people veered around them, a couple glaring at them for interrupting the smooth flow, but Connie only had eyes for him and his reaction. She'd asked a question, which he'd answered, but he hadn't told her he loved her, not outright. Not as boldly as she did now, with her chest laid bare and vulnerable. The heart inside was his if he wanted it, and it was the possibility that he might not that made her tremble.

  Nothing was guaranteed in this life, she knew, but sometimes a woman had to gamble on the odds.

  “I'm sorry,” he said slowly, cocking his head. “Would you mind repeating that, sugar?”

  “Going deaf in your old age, Sir?” She stepped forward, close enough that they were no longer two individual people, but one whole unit. Her hands latched onto his hips, her fingers hooking through the belt loops, and she held on as she looked up at him. Amber eyes regarded her steadily. “I said, I love you, Thane.”

  “That's what I was hoping you said. Didn't know if you were quite there yet or not.” He stroked her cheeks, her forehead, the plump curve of her lips. “For the record, I am incredibly pleased you're on my wavelength, sugar. Wasn't sure whether I'd push you into saying something you didn't mean if I declared it first. I love you packs a lot of punch where I come from. It's not said in vain.”

  Yet she wasn't hearing him giving her the words back. Had she made a mistake telling him so soon? Two weeks, three, it wasn't a long period of time. Even after everything they'd been through making weeks seem like years, maybe she'd jumped the gun and spooked him. Christ, had she messed this up? No, she couldn't have.

  Wasn't sure whether I'd push you into saying something you didn't mean if I declared it first.

  That meant he felt it too, right?

  “Stop overthinking, Connie. I had planned to have some flowers in my hand when I told you, but we've obliterated that part of Operation Romance.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth, pressed his lips to her fingers. “Never mind, we'll move straight onto the good stuff. I love you, Connie. I'm old enough and wise enough to know that when love slaps you across the face, you take the hit. No excuses, no trying to make it fit in with society's logic, just…basking in what's been given.”

  Basking in love—that sounded decadent. Connie rested her forehead on his chest and breathed deep. She curled her fingers into his jacket. “I might be a little crazy for a while, Thane. Just so you know.”

  He kissed her properly, slowly, using his tongue to wipe her mind clear of everything but him. She melted right there on the sidewalk, beneath a sun that had nothing to do with the heat building between her legs. “I am fully prepared to deal with any and all bouts of craziness, sugar.”

  Something deep inside her settled, calmed by his words and his touch. Was it possible she'd finally found her place, her person? God, she prayed this wasn't a dream or some torturous fantasy conjured by her lonely brain.

  Thane started walking again, her hand firmly in his. She was floating high enough to let him take her wherever he wanted to go, dreaming of a future which had a lasting potential. It might crash and burn like her negative side kept whispering in her ear, but she wasn't going to think along those lines. Love wasn't a cure-all, it wasn't a crutch.

  Love was, to her mind, the glue that held two people together through thick and thin. If the adhesive wore off, became weak and cracked, things fell apart. So she made a promise to herself to keep it strong, to keep herself bound to Thane no matter how bad things got, because as a couple, they were worth the effort of maintaining what they built.

  With Thane, she could build an entire world around him.

  They walked into a parking lot, and Thane took her straight to his truck, humming contentedly. He seemed completely at ease with baring his emotions and declaring his love. In any other man, that calmness would raise red flags, taunt her with the idea that he was toying with her, leading her on the way Evan had. Lulling her into complacency before he smashed her kneecaps and sent her crumbling to the ground.

  But Thane…she got the impression that he didn't play games, not of that variety. Not the kind that would leave her heartbroken and sobbing, scarred for the rest of her life.

  He unlocked the truck and opened her door with a flourish. “Come on, sugar, in you go.” He gave her a boost into her seat, reminding her to sit down gently. “Seatbelt on.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she murmured as he closed the door and rounded the hood. She clicked the belt into place as he opened his door and climbed in, starting the engine before securing himself. “Where are we going?”

  “Wherever we feel l
ike going, Connie. Where would you like to go?”

  She smiled. She had the perfect spot in mind.

  *

  Two hours later, they were parked on the top of the ridge Connie had tried to explore in her drunken state the weekend before. Thane's truck had bounced up the bumpy track with ease, although Connie's ass was feeling the repercussions of her location choice. The damn plug felt as though it had been tapped deeper into her channel with every bump and hard knock, until she was left panting and desperate to come.

  Thane hadn't been kind enough to alleviate the pressure, so now they were lying on a blanket beneath a sky smeared with blue and purple and pink, and black closing in as night fell. The remnants of their dinner had been pushed to one side—they'd stopped in at a little restaurant he claimed made the best takeaway burgers and fries, to which Connie could now attest—and she was stretched out on her side with her head resting on his abdomen.

  His fingers stroked through her hair, relaxing her to the point of sleep. A full stomach, good company, and warm body could do that to a person. Right now, she was content to be that person, drifting along under an open sky, with barely a care in the world.

  There wasn't much she remembered from the first time she came out here. Most of those memories were drowned in whisky, but the ones she was making now were much better. Everything was better with Thane. Being out here and watching the stars come alive in a sky without light pollution, where there was no city noise and no traffic, was akin to smearing a balm over open wounds.

  “Will you tell me about your leg?” she muttered sleepily, needing to hear his voice. She loved his voice, the quiet rumble of the words. If he got a job as an audiobook narrator, she'd listen to him over and over.

  “You sure you want to hear it now, sugar?”

  “Either that or recite the phone book. Yes, I'm sure. I'd like to know what happened.”

  “All right. When I left the military, I decided to take my skills and offer them privately. Pick and choose who I worked for, as a private contractor. I’d had enough of being tethered to an institution and wanted the freedom of belonging to myself for the first time in my adult life. Three years ago, I was contracted to do a job in Germany. Not a problem, I went, I completed the job, and I came home. I guess I was still riding the high of a job well done as I was driving home from the airport. Maybe if I hadn’t been, my reflexes would have been faster.”

  “Christ, Thane,” she whispered.

  “I’d taken the I-90 because it was faster. I’d been travelling for hours, couldn’t wait to get home. Night had fallen, but the weather was good. A clear night, and the road was busy but not heavy with traffic.” His eyes were distant, memories darkening the amber. “I had the radio on, my fingers were tapping on the wheel in time with some bouncy country song, and I remember seeing the semi in the slow lane drift over a little. It was ahead of me, thirty feet or so, and I began to slow up, thinking it would correct itself.”

  Connie pushed up on her elbow, her expression sorrowful. “It didn’t.”

  “No, it didn't. The fucking thing veered across the whole damn stretch of road. Those of us who’d already started slowing up missed hitting it, but the vehicles behind were too late to slow down. Three cars—including mine—were slammed into from the rear, spinning us around and ramming us into the semi. More cars piled up before the flow of traffic eased.” He grunted softly. “Still don’t know what happened precisely, but the car next to mine lost its side panel, and the force of the collision shoved it through my door. Part of the metal sheared off on the outside, but a nice big chunk cut into my thigh like a knife. Missed the femoral artery by millimeters.”

  “Thane,” she whispered, horrified to realize she could have lost him before she ever knew him.

  “It’s okay. The emergency crews were amazing. They saved everyone they could, but two drivers were killed on impact. I lived through an accident that claimed lives and limbs, and I relearned an important lesson I’d been taught in the army—never take life for granted.” He stroked her hair as she rested her hand on his scarred thigh. “The front tire on the semi had blown. I cursed the driver for a few months, before I realized it hadn’t been his fault. Sure, he turned my life around, put things in motion that ended up with me here, but he didn’t intend for it to happen—it was an accident, period. If I think of it positively, I have to believe I suffered through that to end up here with you. I'm a big believer in fate, sugar, and moving to Phoenix, finding Avalon and then you…I figure I'm where I need to be, doing what I'm supposed to, and reaping the rewards.”

  “I never saw you as a fatalist, Thane.”

  “Hmm, mainly fatalist with a strong internal optimist streak, and a dash of realism.”

  She drew a circle over his shirt. “So, you packed up your life in Chicago and moved here for a new start. You've got a gorgeous house, a social life, and someone to fuck whenever the urge strikes. Are you utilizing those army skills here?”

  “Firstly, thank you for the house compliment. I fell in love with it when I saw it, had to have it. Not unlike when I first saw you.” He gave her hair a sharp tug. “Although I take exception to you being the someone to fuck whenever the urge strikes. You are so much more than that, sugar.” He ran his fingers through her hair again to soothe the ache he’d caused. “The three years in Chicago between then and now were…unfulfilling. My injury required a lot of physical therapy, and although I tried to carry on with my work, it just wasn’t possible. People were starting to annoy me, wanting to know why I was letting a physical hindrance stop me from working. I talked with my mom, and when I realized how happy she’d become by moving to Maine, it got me thinking. A few months ago, I started looking to move. Arizona has the heat my leg needs to be mainly comfortable, and Phoenix has an appeal of its own. So I sold my place in Chicago, called in the debts I was owed, and made the best damn decision of my life.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. The money from the sale of the house, the money I was owed, was more than enough to buy my house here. If I spend what's left with a steady hand, I should be good for the next twenty or thirty years.”

  “Early retirement?”

  He chuckled. “Guess we could call it that. The doctors predict I'll be riddled with arthritis before I'm fifty, so I might just spend my twilight years as a man of leisure. In fact, speaking of leisure…” He changed the subject so quickly, it took her a moment to adjust her line of thinking. “I think it's time we remove that foreign body from your tight little ass, don't you?”

  Connie stiffened. She'd finally gotten accustomed to her heavy hitchhiker, and she wasn't thrilled at the idea of it being taken out. She recalled the flare of discomfort as it went in, thank you very much. She knew how the muscles grasped a plug on the way out, the look of ecstasy and malaise on a sub's face, and she shivered at the thought of being the one unplugged. “Ah, no.”

  “No? Interesting.” Thane rolled, pitching her onto her back, then knelt between her legs and stared down at her. Face in shadow, she could just see the glint of his eyes. He ran his finger along the inside of her waistband, then popped the button of her pants free and lowered the zipper. “Are you that attached to your plug, sugar, that you don't want to let it go?”

  She licked her lips nervously before biting her bottom one. “Something like that.”

  “It can't stay in forever, Connie, you know that.” He stood and offered his hand, pulling her to her feet when she accepted it. “Pants off, underwear off, then lie on your stomach. It's chilly, so if you want to leave your top half covered, I don't mind.”

  “Thane—”

  “Now, Constance.” Arms folded over his chest, he resembled some sort of ancient warrior.

  Resigned to her fate, Connie muttered under her breath and obeyed his order. She called him several uncomplimentary names that suited him, tossing her pants to the edge of the blanket, followed by her panties. Her skin came alive in the cool air, her pussy enjoying the br
isk kiss. “I want it on record that I'm protesting this barbaric treatment.”

  Laughing, Thane snagged her by the hips and yanked her close. “Gonna tell Daddy Atticus on me, sugar?”

  “Maybe.” She huffed, trying not to enjoy the possessive grip of his hands on her skin. Not bruising, nowhere near, but firm enough she'd have to put real effort in to wrench away. “He'd kick your ass for me, all the way back to Avalon.”

  “I think he'd be more likely to tell you to trust your Dom and do as I say. I'm not going to hurt you, Connie.” His stubble tickled her neck as he bent to kiss her shoulder. “Lie down on your stomach, cushion your head on your arms, and just relax. I've got you, all the way to the finish line.”

  Okay, she could do this. She'd gotten through taking the plug, and in all fairness, she couldn't deny that after the first moments of hating it, she was at peace with it. The circumstances were nothing like what had happened with Evan; her whole relationship with Thane was a world apart from that travesty. Maybe that was why she found herself turning around and sinking to her knees on the blanket, trembling—with the cold, of course. Or so she tried to convince herself. Thane had given her no reason to fear him, and he wouldn't start now.

  Her hands slipped forward over the material, bearing her weight until she was stretched out flat. Blowing out a harsh breath, she closed her eyes and crossed her arms beneath her head. The sound of Thane undressing made her skin twitch. She was really doing this. Facing one of her biggest fears, bearding the anxiety dragon in its den.

  “Good girl, Connie. You know how this goes. I pull, you exhale hard and push.” He crouched beside her, his palm rubbing the curve of her cheeks. There was a gentleness in him that surprised her often—physically, emotionally, and it showed in his mannerisms.

  She flinched when he reached between her legs, fingers gliding effortlessly along her wet seam, along her perineum, until he grasped the end of the plug, twisting it gently. Tender nerves flared to life, making her gasp. “Christ, don't do that!”

 

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