Beware Falling Rocks

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Beware Falling Rocks Page 20

by Tymber Dalton


  She didn’t realize she’d been rubbing herself against him until he stopped, resting his cool bare hand against her warm ass. He laughed. “Eager pet, hmm?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  One finger slipped between her legs, and she moaned as it easily slid inside her pussy. Then he slowly finger-fucked her, adding a second finger. She rocked her hips in time with his hand, wanting it harder, deeper—wanting it to be his cock.

  She moaned again when his hand fell still. “I think someone’s ass isn’t quite pink enough.” The fingers disappeared, and a moment later, she felt the leather of the slapper against her ass again.

  He didn’t even come close to making her safeword with that implement. He’d always used it in the past as a warm-up and step-down. But when he alternated taking several swats with the slapper with fingering her, she thought she’d lose her mind.

  Then he set the slapper aside and used her hair to pull her up off his lap. He put her on her knees in front of him and slid his fingers into her mouth so she could lick them clean.

  She really wished it was his cock, but at least it was Him.

  “Good girl,” he softly said.

  He pulled his fingers from her mouth and reached for his belt. He no sooner had his slacks unfastened than she was trying to reach for his cock. He released his grip in her hair and let her, the moan she let out when she finally was able to swallow him to the root coaxing a moan in reply from him.

  He shucked his jacket and loosened his tie. “Don’t make me come, pet,” he said, sounding hoarse. “Just keep me hard.”

  With the hard, silken steel of his cock in her mouth, she slowly laved her tongue around the head, flicking at the slit before taking him deep again. When she looked up, he’d removed his tie and was working on the buttons of his shirt.

  And he was staring down at her, heat in his eyes.

  Finally, he had his shirt and undershirt off and tapped the top of her head. “Take my shoes and socks off.”

  Reluctantly, she released his cock and did as he ordered. Before she could go down on him again, he stood and shoved his slacks and briefs off.

  He reached down for her hand, hauling her up off the floor and into his arms. She tried to rub against his cock, but he had other plans and put her on her hands and knees on the bed.

  Kneeling behind her, he braced a hand against her ass while slowly feeding his cock into her pussy. Like that, she couldn’t shove back, take him as hard and deep and fast as she wanted.

  When he reached around her and found her clit with his fingers, her head and shoulders dropped down onto the bed as the orgasm slammed into her.

  “Good girl,” he said, not stopping.

  With his cock deep inside her and hitting all the right places, it made her climax that much harder and stronger. Her back arched as she tried to fuck herself against him, but he reached forward and grabbed her hair, pinning her in place.

  She squirmed, moaned, lost her mind.

  So…fucking…good…

  She’d been His, had always been. Preordained, maybe. No one else could have ever made her feel like this.

  Eventually, when he was satisfied he’d kept her coming long enough, he grabbed her hips and started fucking her. Hard, fast, deep, her meeting every stroke until his fingers tightened, digging in and holding still with his cock deep inside her as a deep, satisfied moan escaped him.

  His grip loosened and released her before he stretched out next to her and pulled her body against his.

  She held on to his arm, refusing to let go, afraid she’d open her eyes and find, once again, it’d been only a dream.

  His lips nuzzled along the top of her shoulder before he gently nipped her. “Better?”

  “It’s always better with you, Sir,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Friday morning, Paul awakened with Lynn in his arms and another good night of sleep in him.

  She snuggled closer. “No fair escaping.” She sounded sleepy, sated.

  Happy.

  “Not escaping.” He kissed her. “But you do have to work today, don’t you?”

  She frowned. “Yeah, kind of. Still working through edits for manuscripts I’d gotten in before the boom.”

  “If I stay here all day, you won’t get any work done, will you?”

  She pressed her face against his chest. “Probably not. You’re a good distraction. I need to go grocery shopping, too.”

  “You have to get your work done. Listen, I need to get some stuff done today. I’ll come back later. Before dinner.”

  She looked up at him. “And spend the night?”

  “Of course. The whole weekend.”

  “Okay. Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  She let out a sigh. “Thank you for last night. For dinner and everything.”

  “Thank you.” He kissed her.

  “Can you bring the bag with you tonight, please?”

  “Which bag?”

  “The bag.”

  He touched the tip of her nose. “My implement bag?”

  “Yes, Sir. Please?”

  He leaned in and rubbed noses with her. “If someone is a good pet and gets her work done.”

  * * * *

  He hadn’t meant to let her coax him into shower sex after breakfast, but he couldn’t resist her.

  At least he’d left her smiling when they kissed good-bye at her front door.

  “Oh! Hold on.” She ran back to the kitchen, got something out of one of the drawers, and brought it over to him. “Here.”

  A key.

  He took it from her and added it to his keyring. He used to have a key to her place and had to give it back to her that last night they’d seen each other. “Thank you,” he said, trying not to let his mind dwell on the past. “I’ll have to bring one for you for my place.”

  “Hopefully we won’t be needing a key to your place for long.”

  He kissed her again. “You’re going to try to push me no matter what I said, aren’t you?”

  A mischievous smile curved her lips. “Maybe someone needs to take me more firmly in hand.”

  She’d never bratted with him before.

  He grabbed her hair, tipped her head back, and nipped at her neck. “Maybe someone will end up standing in a corner and holding a quarter against the wall with her nose.”

  He nearly laughed at the pout that filled her face.

  “Ah, someone forgot about that punishment, huh?”

  “Maybe.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and stared down into her eyes. “We’ll get there. I promise.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  * * * *

  Paul had started out this journey swearing he’d take things slow, but every minute he spent with her was another step closer to knowing he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  He also had a stop he wanted to make before he went home. Something that really wasn’t in his budget, but in this case, he’d make an exception and run up a credit card.

  She was worth every penny, and more. He wanted to be ready so that when he decided to ask her, he would have the ring there. Whether it happened in a few days or a few weeks or a few months from then.

  When he was sure she was ready.

  When he was sure he wouldn’t fuck up again.

  * * * *

  Paul spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning his apartment, catching up with work e-mails, handling a few work-related phone calls, and trying not to race back to Lynn’s. Then he got caught on a conference bridge longer than he expected and realized it was later than he’d planned.

  He felt like his extra twenty pounds were gone as he hurried around his apartment, trying to get ready to return to Lynn’s.

  He wouldn’t waste a minute of the time he’d been given with her. And he didn’t want to do anything to make her question her trust in him.

  With his bag packed—and his toybag also ready—and sitting by the front door, he made one final sweep through
his apartment for anything he might need. He didn’t want to have to come back there all weekend.

  His glance fell on his pocketknife, the heavy Buck knife Lynn had given him a few years ago.

  One that had seen plenty of play with her.

  Picking it up, he opened it, running his finger over the sharp blade. He used to carry it on him every day, using it not just for play with her but for work, too. It was a good knife. All the times he’d drawn faint patterns across her flesh with it, not cutting, just sensation play. Or binding her and then gently poking her feet with it, forcing her to hold still and yet her desperately wanting to wiggle at the same time, deliciously sadistic play with her.

  Lots of good memories.

  Maybe that’s why he didn’t register the fact that someone was knocking on his door at first.

  Puzzled, he slipped the knife into his pocket and walked over to the door to look through the viewfinder before answering.

  Sarah stood on his front stoop.

  Shit. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there, because his car was parked out front.

  Knowing he was going to regret this, he answered the door. “Yes?”

  As if unsure how to respond, she stood there, staring at him. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “No. I’m on my way out. What do you want?”

  “Where were you last weekend and this week?”

  “None of your business.”

  Her gaze dropped to where his bags sat by the door. “Where are you going?”

  “Sarah, what do you want?”

  “Why won’t you answer a simple question? That’s so rude.”

  He took a deep breath to maintain control of his anger. The last thing he needed was his ex wife going into one of her rages right there on his front stoop and the neighbors getting an earful. “Either tell me what you want, or I’m closing the door.”

  She tried to take a step forward, but he didn’t budge. “I just want to talk. Can I come in? Please?”

  “You can tell me, or you can leave.”

  She scowled. In the past, he would have acted differently, trying to draw her out, playing the game by her rules to keep the explosion at bay.

  He knew from the reading he’d done since their divorce that she was trying to draw him back into what was called “the dance” he’d done with her throughout the years as part of his codependency to her. A classic “change back” behavior.

  He wasn’t changing back into that person.

  He refused.

  Not to mention, he refused to break his promise to Lynn to not allow Sarah in the apartment. He was pushing it as it was by allowing her to talk to him now.

  “I think maybe the divorce was a mistake,” she said. “You need to come with me to my therapist to talk about it next week.”

  “I can’t. I’m busy.”

  Another scowl, this one darker. “Well, make time.”

  “Let me rephrase that—I won’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our divorce is final. I don’t know what you think there is to discuss.”

  “That’s easy to fix. We’ll get remarried.”

  He struggled and barely won against the urge to laugh in her face until he realized she was dead serious. “Are you on your meds?”

  “I don’t need them.”

  “Do your doctor and therapist know that?”

  “I didn’t tell them. I can’t waste money on a doctor appointment co-pay or on meds I don’t need. Especially since I’m no longer on someone’s insurance plan and have to pay for my own through work now.”

  Those were flimsy excuses. Her co-pay was the same on her insurance as it had been when she’d been on his, and she had nearly a quarter of a million dollars in the bank as a result of selling off their assets and splitting the equity in the house after selling it.

  He stepped back and started closing the door. “Good-bye, Sarah.”

  “Paul, wait, dammit!”

  He paused, the door still open a foot. “My answer isn’t changing.”

  “It’s her, isn’t it?”

  He felt heat rush to his face. He hoped to steer her clear of this topic. “What are you talking about?”

  “You never did stop loving her, did you? We never had a chance because you never really gave her up. I bet you were even seeing her on the side the whole time, weren’t you? Lying to me about it? Any time you were late at work, you were probably with her, weren’t you?”

  A lot of answers raced through his head.

  He finally closed the door, fighting the urge to slam it in her face.

  He expected her to knock, or maybe even pound on it, but she didn’t. He watched through the viewfinder as she turned and stalked back to her car, which was parked on the other side of his neighbor’s car.

  After sitting there for five minutes, she finally drove away.

  He wasn’t fooled, though. He expected she’d probably park somewhere close by, watching the main entrance for him to leave.

  So he quickly loaded his things and left—out the complex’s back entrance. It was a pain to use because of the street it dumped out onto, a busy six-lane highway. Paul had to go down to the next light and make a U-turn to get turned around in the right direction. More time out of his night.

  He kept an eye on his rearview mirror to see if he could spot any sign of Sarah, but then realized that was stupid.

  If she followed him, she’d simply see he’d gone to Lynn’s, and she knew where Lynn lived.

  Hell, she’d probably headed there already to see if he went there.

  Shit.

  Well, regardless, there wasn’t anything to be done about it. It looked more likely he’d have to talk to Ed about filing for a restraining order against her. Staying “friends” with Sarah was not an option.

  Yes, he got that she was sick. But it wasn’t like she had cancer or something beyond her control.

  She had a choice, she knew what she had to do to get and stay healthy, and she’d willfully chosen an unhealthy path.

  Those were consequences she’d have to live with, just as he’d have to live with the consequences of the choices he’d made.

  Although in Sarah’s mind, he suspected he’d always be the bad guy, he and Lynn both, when the reality was it had simply been three people caught up in a bad hurricane of awful circumstances. There were no bad guys, just three people who’d each lost something important and would always bear the scars from that.

  Whether or not Sarah chose to learn from the experience and make better choices the next time around was no longer his concern.

  * * * *

  Paul parked next to Lynn’s car and unloaded his things, hauling them inside and leaving them in the entryway.

  The delicious aroma of pork chops washed over him. “Wow, that smells great,” he called out.

  She appeared in the kitchen doorway, his heart trip-hammering when he saw her. Shorts and a tank top, nothing fancy but beautiful.

  His collar around her neck

  He thought about the ring box now stashed in his laptop bag, which he’d also brought in.

  “Mushroom pork chops,” she said.

  “My favorite. You remembered.” He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her.

  This felt like coming home.

  When he let go of her, she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sarah showed up at my apartment as I was getting ready to leave.”

  Her expression darkened before she schooled it to an impassive mask. She let go of him, her arms falling to her sides. “Oh.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t let her inside. She said she wanted to talk, and I told her I had no interest in talking.”

  “Talk about what?”

  If he hid stuff from Lynn, she’d sense it, and it would only destroy the fragile trust he was rebuilding with her. “She wanted me to go with her to her doctor to talk about getting back together.” When Lynn tried to pull away from him
, he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “And I told her no way was that happening.”

  She stared into his eyes. “Really?”

  “Really. Some of the stuff I read talked about this kind of behavior. I’m ready for it. I just need your patience while I work through it.”

  Now she frowned. “My patience?”

  Shit. “That came out wrong. I’m sorry. Patience while I keep fending her off until she gets it.”

  “And what if she never gets it?”

  “Then I file for a restraining order. I’d rather not have to do that, though. It might cause problems for her at work.” Ironically, Sarah was a CNA at a pediatrics practice. She had great patience for children and parents who had no idea what she was like at home.

  “I honestly don’t care if it does. She had her chance.”

  “I’m trying to be the bigger person.” She finally let him pull her in for a hug. “Dinner smells wonderful,” he whispered in her ear. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

  More of her tension melted, allowing him to tighten his grip on her, one hand sliding down to her ass, where he gave her a playful bare-handed swat. “And I’ll show you my appreciation later.”

  She ground her hips against his, her fingertips digging into his back. “Really?”

  Success. He detected subtle hints of subspace in her tone. “Really, baby. I promise.”

  Dinner was, of course, delicious. He helped her clean up, despite her protests that he could go relax. He was about to suggest they head to the bedroom when her doorbell rang.

  When he spotted her puzzled look, that’s when his heart hit the floor. He headed for the door, peering through the viewfinder.

  There stood Sarah.

  He must have sworn out loud because Lynn suddenly wore a murderous look. “You’re kidding me.”

  “I’ll get rid of her.” He opened the door.

  Sarah stood there, arms crossed over her chest and looking triumphant. “I knew it.”

  “I said all I’m going to say to you, Sarah.” He stepped forward, pulling the door mostly closed with him and forcing Sarah back a step. “You need to leave.”

 

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