by Imogen Wells
This is what he does to me. I forget all sense, rhyme and reason. Everything I’ve ever done to protect myself, protect my heart, flies out the window. I feel like I’m lost at sea with this man. Adrift. Shipwrecked. Thrown over-board. I didn’t even get to walk the plank, just chucked in the deep end with no life jacket.
I force my brain to function. “And maybe, you need to mind your head on the way out.” The bite and the sarcasm I meant is totally lost when the words come out breathy.
Seb chuckles into the crook of my neck before nipping the delicate skin.
“You should really try harder to say it like you mean it, Jamie.” His hands trace a line up my body, cupping my breasts. “Your body tells me everything I need to know.”
The thin material of my top does nothing to hide my reaction as my nipples harden, and my clit throbs with need between my thighs. My body is needy, my head is fuzzy with lust, and I can’t think straight with him so close. Touching me like this has me in a spin; turned around and flipped upside down. With one hand on the handle and the other splayed open against the door, I’m at war mentally and physically.
Seb moves one hand down the centre of my body, easily slipping beneath the waistband of my scrubs. Reaching my wet heat, he slips a finger inside, pumping in and out before circling my clit, then repeating the whole process.
“So fucking wet for me. What’s it gonna be, Firefly?” he asks, adding another finger, stretching me and curling them inside to hit that sweet spot.
My heart is pounding so fucking hard, and my breaths are little more than pants as I try to focus on what he’s asking me.
“I…err…fuck! I don’t know what your—”
“Open the door, Jamie, or tell me to fuck off.”
I cry out again as his thumb brushes over my clit. My legs begin to tremble as he brings me closer to an orgasm that will shatter me, and my body is screaming at me to open the damn door. It’s not just a physical door I’d be opening. This man holds the key to a heart I locked in chains long ago.
“Time’s running out, Jamie, Let me in. I want to taste that sweet as fuck pussy of yours again, lick you clean and fuck you raw,” he whispers, as he pinches and tugs at my nipple and curls his fingers again.
His dirty mouth seals the deal, just like I’m sure he knew it would. I push the handle down, and we stumble forwards into the room. Arm around my waist, Seb uses his foot to slam the door shut, dragging me back, my back still at his front, and his fingers still inside me.
As his back hits the door with a soft thud, a hand comes up, gripping my chin and tipping my head back. My hands come down on his thighs, steadying myself as Seb starts pumping his fingers in and out again. Only this time there is no toying or teasing, and within minutes I’m breathless and dancing on the edge of orgasm again.
“That’s it, baby, squeeze my fingers,” Seb whispers.
“Aah, fuck! I’m gonna come, Seb,” I cry. And I do, shattering like glass. I buck my hips, gripping Seb’s thighs as my knees buckle, riding out my orgasm. Then as I come down, he slips his fingers from me, running them over my clit as he does and drawing a tremor from my body.
Seb strips my trousers and underwear from me, tossing them aside. He runs his hands up the back of my thighs, over my arse before slipping a hand between my legs. I open them, giving him better access as he pushes his fingers in and out of me a few times, coating them in my juices before smearing them over my tight, puckered hole. He wastes no time slipping a finger in up to his knuckle before drawing it back out slowly and adding a second. I let out a groan as he grips my ponytail, yanking my head back.
“Do you want me here, Firefly?” I whimper as he scissors his fingers inside me, stretching me. Oh, god. The burn is exquisite and has me unable to form even the simplest of words. He gives my hair a tug, and the combination from his fingers working my arse and the sting from my scalp has me almost coming apart again.
“Fuck!” It’s a whisper, a plea on my lips, and Seb slowly draws his fingers out. I feel the cold metal from his piercing as he slides it down, over my arse, through the wet folds of my pussy, and it sends a layer of goosebumps over my skin, increasing the anticipation tenfold. I know exactly how fucking good he feels inside me, and my body is on fire waiting to feel it again.
He yanks my head back further, then whispers, “Bend over, hands on the floor.” He releases me, enough that I can bend at the waist. Before my fingers even brush the soft fibres of the carpet, he’s on his knees, face buried in my pussy, spearing his tongue inside me.
My head drops, eyes closed, and as he runs his tongue over my clit, my eyes fly open at the shock of pleasure. My eyes lock onto the view between my legs; Seb on his knees, cock in hand, tugging and squeezing as he eats me out. It’s sublime. The blood begins to rush to my head, and as a drop of pre-cum beads at the head of his cock, it’s too much. My thighs and belly tighten with the orgasm that’s building again and with one last lick across my clit, I explode. Splintering like a meteor into a thousand tiny pieces. Unable to hold myself up a second longer, I drop to my knees.
I feel Seb behind me, gripping my arse cheeks, he lines himself up, and inch by glorious inch, he pushes inside. My pussy immediately clamps down on him, vibrating with the need to feel, to pull, him deeper inside. His body trembles with restraint, and I whimper at the slow, delirium inducing pace. When he’s fully seated, body flush with mine, he grinds his hips, going even deeper.
“Fucking hell!” he cries as he draws back out before slamming back in again. The force is so strong that my knees slide across the carpet, burning the skin there, but I barely notice as my back arches, forcing him deeper on every thrust as he finds his rhythm.
One hand wraps around my ponytail, pulling my head up from the floor, and my nails dig into the thick pile of the carpet at the delicious sting on my scalp.
His pace is relentless, yet measured, and every thrust is meaningful and full of tempered desire. It’s wicked, delicious, unerringly so.
“Firefly.” The name falls from his lips in a desperate groan as he shifts his knees, changing the angle. Hearing him calling me firefly, combined with the new angle has my eyes drifting closed, intensifying the rising orgasm. He reaches between my thighs, circling my clit a few times, causing sparks to fly and stars to dance behind my eyes as I fall apart. As my pussy clenches around his cock, milking him, he bucks into me a few more times before spilling himself inside me.
“Aah. Oh. My. God.” Every word stutters from my mouth in a panted breath.
As I try to catch my breath, I know he’s not done with me yet, he pulls out of me before standing, and then he lifts me to my feet as my boneless legs attempt to hold me up. His still hard cock, throbs against the top of my arse as he walks me to the bathroom. He leans over into the cubicle, switching the shower on as he strips out of his clothes before we both step in.
His body is an artist’s wet dream. Muscles and hard ridges you just can’t help wanting to run your tongue over, and beautiful tattoos, of every design and colour, adorn his bronzed skin. Water runs down his inky black hair, over his chiselled cheekbones, trickling down his smooth, taut abs, and my thighs tighten, rubbing together to ease the ache that’s there again.
A finger beneath my chin lifts my head to meet rich caramel eyes with tiny flecks that glitter the colour of gold. Eyes are said to be the windows to soul, and Seb’s are molten orbs of desire.
“Seb—”
“Shh. Let me take care of you, okay?” I give the slightest nod, and then his lips slam down on mine. His kiss is hard and brutal, yet his tongue is a delicate caress, gently demanding entrance. A complete contrast to his kiss.
I open for him, but he has no idea exactly what he’s asking of me.
The thing is, I don’t think I even knew what I was offering at the time either.
Twelve
Seb
After taking Jamie in the shower, I crawled into bed with her and must have fallen asleep. I’m such a fucking idiot. I sh
ould never have gone back there with her, and now here I am, creeping out of Rick’s house afraid to get caught. Just like last time. Yeah, I’m an arsehole. The only difference is last time I didn’t know what I was letting myself in for.
The weekend we spent together was fucked up. It was the first time I’d met her, and I knew straight away how things would play out. Oh, she tried to play hard to get, but I saw how much she wanted me, despite her frosty arse reception. Her constant jibes at me, her thick and blatant sarcasm turned me the hell on. It was like we hated each other, couldn’t stand to be in the same room together, but when I’d finally had enough of the foreplay and made my move, she caved like a fucking straw house in a tornado.
After that first time, the gloves were off. We battled each other constantly. She’d call me a man-whore, I’d tell her she loved my talents. She’d call me an arsehole, I’d tell her I liked it when she talked dirty. We traded insults continuously, except when we were fucking. Then there were no insults to be had, just pure fucking heaven wrapped up in the form of a fiery little redhead with a tongue like a whip, and a mouth as sweet as nectar.
Then as I laid there, watching her sleep, I realised that she was a woman I could feel more for. That had my dick shrivelling up like I’d taken a dip in an ice bath. So, I did what I always did. I left. Not a word, just crept out in the middle of the night and fucking left.
Now, here I am doing the same thing again.
She’s going to hate me. But that’s okay, I can live with that. What I can’t live with is her getting deeper under my skin. There’s a reason I don’t do relationships.
Back at the apartment, I have a shower and make breakfast. Jay is asleep, but he’ll be up when he smells the bacon cooking. As if on cue, once the aroma begins to waft through the apartment, I hear Jay moving around.
“Hey, man. What time is it?” he asks, walking into the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers and running a hand through his dirty blond hair.
“It’s early. I would say I’m sorry for waking you, but I’d be lying.”
“Uh-huh. Knowing you like your sleep as much as me, get that food on a plate then you can tell me why the fuck you’re up at the arse crack of dawn, cooking of all things.”
I finish cooking, and as I place the plates on the table, Jay brings over two mugs of tea, taking a seat opposite me.
“Come on then, man, spill your guts. What’s got you in a tizz?”
“A tizz? How fucking old are you?” I say, shaking my head. “Can’t a guy make his roommate breakfast without there being something wrong?”
Jay looks at me sceptically. “Anybody else, maybe. You? Not a cat in hells chance. Where’d you disappear off to anyway?”
I take another bite of eggs and bacon, and Jay waits me out. I place my knife and fork on the plate with a sigh. “Rick set me up. He called, and when I told him what happened Monday at the club, he told me to come over so we could discuss shit. Only when I got there, Jamie was there.”
“Shit, man. That’s not cool. Well, at least you weren’t stupid enough to tap that again.” He laughs, lifting a forkful of food to his mouth then pauses, looking up at me. I give him a half laugh half grimace. “You didn’t?” I pick my fork up, flicking crumbs around my plate. “Holy shit! You did. You sure must be a glutton for punishment, man.” He finishes his mouthful before continuing, “What was she even doing at Rick’s?”
“She got mugged outside the hospital.”
“Well, shit. She okay?”
“Yeah. She’s a little banged up, but she’ll be fine.”
“She must have banged her head to be stupid enough to go there with you again.” I glare at him. “Hey, man, I’m just saying. If I was her and you did to me what you did to her, I’d want to cut your balls off not suck’em again.”
“Fuck you, Jay.” I pick up my plate, dumping it in the sink. “There’s no fear of it happening again.”
Jay swivels on his chair. “What’s that mean? What’d you do?” I start rinsing the plate off. Jay lets out a laugh as the penny finally drops. “You snuck off again, didn’t you?” He walks over, putting his plate and cup in the sink. “She’s gonna be majorly pissed at you, and the next time you see her, I recommend you wear some armour ‘cause she’s gonna come at you hard, man.” He heads back to his room, and not two minutes later a steady thump, thump echoes down the hall as some girl starts moaning like a true porn star.
Not wanting to stick around to listen to them going at it, I grab my gym bag and get the fuck out of there before my ears start bleeding.
I don’t hear from Rick all day, which is a little surprising as I was sure he’d be blowing up my phone for my disappearing act. I also don’t hear from Jamie, but that is less surprising.
As I’m pulling up to Tempest, my phone pings. Parking up, I pull it from my pocket and Ryder’s name flashes across the screen. The first line clues me in on what it’s about, and I don’t have time for his lecture just now.
I grab a beer from the bar, and then take up a seat near the door to the VIP area. No sign of Tank tonight, instead there’s a bald guy with tatts up one side of his neck and along the sides of his head. He reminds me a little of Ross Kemp, minus the tatts, but wearing the standard Tempest security outfit of black trousers and t-shirt, size small by the looks of it, and the Tempest logo on the top left, he’s a dead ringer for him.
Jay and I tried to do a little digging into the girl from Monday night, but without a name, we weren’t able to get anything. I contacted Lance to see if he knows who she is, but I’m still waiting for him to get back to me. I came here tonight hoping to see her again and check she’s okay, but so far, nothing, and it’s not exactly filling me with hope.
There was another body found on Sunday morning, so whatever the fuck is going on, it’s definitely linked to the previous dead girl the police found recently. And from what Rick has managed to piece together with a cop friend, both girls are linked to this club in some way.
I scout the room, looking for anything out of place, when suddenly my eyes are drawn to the bar. Sitting on a stool drinking and looking across the dance floor is Jasper Williams. I shouldn’t be surprised to see him here, but the fact he is, and who he’s been spending his time with lately, are a major cause for concern.
From my position I can watch him without drawing attention to myself, and after several minutes he’s joined by another guy. They look friendly, and Jasper orders the guy a drink as he takes a seat next to him.
A commotion over by the VIP door snags my attention, and when I look back to the bar, Jasper is handing an envelope over to the new guy. They shake hands, and the guy leaves. Jasper finishes his drink and then heads this way.
A flash of apprehension runs through me as he passes my table, and I hope he doesn’t recognise me. I needn’t have worried as he barely looks my way before showing the Ross Kemp look-alike his wristband and climbing the stairs when the door opens for him.
It’s nearing 1am when I finally decide to throw in the towel for the night and head home. After shoving my way through the crowd waiting to collect their coats, I exit onto the street. I move away from the front of the club to lean against the wall of the alley that runs alongside Tempest.
I watch as a couple stumble from the club, faces glued to one another and hands running all over each other, and it brings a smile to my face. Then it just reminds me of Jamie. Shaking those thoughts away, the sound of raised voices from the alley behind has me turning that way.
Apart from the light at this end of the alley, the only other light comes from the moon, which is currently covered by cloud and making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of me. I creep further in, away from the light, hugging tightly to the wall as I strain to hear the voices.
“Find her and fucking deal with it.” I can’t see who’s speaking, and I don’t recognise the voice, but they don’t sound happy. “If you don’t sort it out, and this comes back to us, Mark is going to fuck you up. Now get
the fuck out of here.”
Scuffling feet, then a car door slamming shut sounds down the far end, and as the moon emerges from behind the cloud, shining a sliver of light into the dark alley, I finally see who was talking.
Tank.
He cuts an imposing figure standing there as the taillights from a car move off into the distance. I’m still too far away to see his face properly, and the fractured light of the moon is nowhere near bright enough to see better, but I watch as he rubs the back of his neck before smacking out at the fence, which reverberates all the way down to me.
I get the impression that despite his orders, he’s not happy about what just went down. My suspicions are confirmed when he pulls his phone from his pocket and makes a call.
After silence for a few seconds, he finally speaks, “Natalia, where the hell are you? Travis is looking for you, and I can’t help you anymore.”
He shoves the phone back in his pocket, and then heads off into a side gate, which must lead back to the club.
I wait a couple of minutes, making sure it’s safe, before hurrying back to my car. As soon as I’m safe inside, I ping a quick message to Rick, then head home.
Thirteen
Jamie
“He’s beautiful, Cam.” I plant a soft kiss on his forehead as he sleeps peacefully in my arms. “Have you decided on a name yet?”
“Not yet, but we are working on it.”
“Poor little guy will be celebrating his first birthday nameless if you two don’t hurry up,” I quip with a laugh.
“We have something in mind, but we want to make sure it fits him, that’s all.” She brings over the drinks and sits next to me, running a finger down her son’s cheek. I watch as her face lights up when he turns his head at her touch. “So, how are things with you? What have I missed?”
The smile drops away from my face for a split second. “Not much, you know, the usual.”