by Zara Chase
“If you hadn’t been wearing that vest—”
“Don’t you start. I was wearing it, and I’m still here, very much alive.” She paused, wondering why she felt this wild need to pour her heart out to him. Okay, so he was trained to make people do that, but she’d had years’ worth of experience in keeping her feelings to herself when it came to Drew Baldwin. “But there’s something missing, and I need you to make me feel completely alive.”
His smile was pure predatory male. “That I can do. I just need a minute to convince myself it was you who said those words and that I wasn’t hearing them in my imagination.”
“You hear voices, too, do you?” She sent him a taunting smile, delighted it wasn’t just her, and that they really were on the same page with this obsession thing. “You ought to see a shrink.”
“Sit down, Precious.” He helped her to the edge of the bed and left her there. “I’ll just be a moment.”
She heard him run back down the stairs, but true to his word he returned almost immediately with a jar in his hands.
“What’s that?”
“It’ll help with the bruising,” he replied. “A bruise happens through trauma, but I don’t need to tell you that. Veins and capillaries get mangled and leak blood into the tissue around them.” He smoothed some of the ointment from the jar onto the first bruise. His touch was so gentle that Farah closed her eyes and sighed. It felt almost orgasmic, but then it was Drew’s fingers applying the ointment so anything he did with them would. “This is made of Arnica Montana.”
“Of what?” she asked, her eyes flying open.
He smiled and kissed the end of her nose. “It’s a pretty yellow flower that contains thymol.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she said meekly.
“Thymol is a naturally occurring substance that soothes inflammation and opens veins to speed healing. Only problem is, it needs to be applied three or four times a day for maximum effect, and I’m not sure I can trust you to do that yourself.”
“Hmm, we do have a problem then. What can we do about it?”
He reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. When her breasts fell into his waiting hands, he expelled a deep sigh.
“Do you have any idea how often I’ve dreamed about these babies?” he asked, bending his head to very gently suckle first one nipple and then the other.
Farah leaned back on her arms and gloried in the feel of his lips feeding on her sensitized breasts. She spread her legs, and he knelt between them as he continued to torture her like only he knew how. Farah willed the moment to go on forever. It didn’t, of course, and a small protest slipped past her lips when he quit.
“Need to make this bruise better, too,” he said softly, applying more ointment to her injured breast. He took far longer than Farah thought was necessary, but who was she to complain when increasingly strong spikes of lust ripped through her each time his fingers touched her flesh? “I figure you’d better make yourself available so I can personally put the ointment on for you.” He looked up at her and grinned. “There, what do you say to that?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t put you to so much trouble,” she said, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. “A busy man like you.”
“Yeah, it’ll be a hell of a chore, but someone has to take it on.”
“You’re getting ointment all over your shirt,” she said, dipping her finger in the pot and deliberately smearing some over his shoulder.
“Can’t have that now, can we?”
He stood up and threw off his shirt. Farah’s eyes widened with a combination of shock and delight. The last time she’d seen him bare-chested had been over six years ago when he’d been swimming with his brothers in the lake and she’d come across them by accident. Yes, it really was an accident. Keep telling yourself you weren’t virtually stalking the poor guy. She’d thought the sight memorable then but it was nothing to the way he looked now. Drew Baldwin obviously worked out. A lot. She moistened her lips and sent him a sultry smile, enjoying the sight of all those rippling muscles, his sculpted torso, bulging, flexing pecs, and the way his waist narrowed so dramatically.
“Perhaps the cardigans aren’t sure a good idea,” she said.
“Aw, honey, you’re such a tease. I was thinking of getting a pipe, as well, just to complete the picture.”
“How about making me feel complete?” she asked, casting a glance at the bulge in his pants. “You might wanna let that thing out, too. It must be pretty cramped in there.”
He shot her a speaking look. “Ladies first.”
He bent to remove her shoes, then pulled her gently to her feet and unfastened her pants. They slithered down her legs and she stepped out of them, leaving them right where they fell. She was now left wearing a lacy thong, one of her best that happened to match the pink bra he’d just removed. She reveled in Drew’s appreciative gaze. His eyes took on a rich burn and it was obvious he liked what he saw, until he glanced lower and saw the dressing on her left thigh. He shook his head and eased her back onto the bed.
“We can’t do anything,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Drew Baldwin, if you don’t fuck me, right here and right now, then it won’t be just your shins that bear scars.” She sent him the look she reserved for intimidating suspects. “I can’t wait for you any longer.”
“I won’t fuck you, Farah.”
“What the—”
“But I will put my heart and soul into making love to you, if you’ll allow it.”
His broad, infectious smile probably mirrored her own. “I think I might be persuaded.”
He stood up and shed his jeans and shorts. Farah gasped when his erection sprang free.
“Oh my!” was all she could think of to say.
“Something wrong?”
“You fishing for compliments, Doctor?”
“I know better than that.”
He lay on her right, half covering her body, clearly trying not to go near her injured thigh or bruised torso.
“I’m not made of porcelain,” she said when he hesitated.
“Darlin’, if you weren’t injured then you’d be tied to that bed by now, with a gag in your mouth and clamps on those gorgeous nipples. That would be after you’d received a good spanking over my knee, of course.”
She gulped. “You like that sort of stuff.”
“Don’t you? After all, you were at the club. I always kinda figured that you would, but if you don’t, just say.”
“I’ve never tried it.” She ran her fingers in lazy circles across his broad chest. “If I’m honest, I’m not very experienced at sex.” She shrugged. “Guess I was waiting for the right guy to indoctrinate me, but never found him. Anyway, I’m ready to try anything.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said softly, leaning over to nip at the erogenous zone beneath her ear, causing her to squirm. “But we’re not doing any of that stuff until you’re better.”
“Best get some more of that ointment in then because I’m not prepared to wait too long. You’ve whetted my appetite.”
“Hmm, is that right?” He canted his head and slowly ran his eyes the length of her body. “Okay, Ms. McLean, here’s how it’s gonna be. First off, I’m gonna kiss and lick every inch of you.”
“Every nook and cranny? That might take a while.”
His chuckle was positively wicked. “Count on it.”
“Yes, but—”
“Oh, and I forgot to say, I’m in charge and you don’t get to speak unless I give you permission.”
“What happens if I forget?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
“Remember that gag I told you about earlier?”
“You wouldn’t!”
“All actions have consequences, babe, and disobedience is one of the worst sins of all in my world.”
“You’re a hard taskmaster.”
“Shut up and let me lick you.”
“Be my guest.”
Was it possible for a tongue to be sensu
ous? Farah wondered dreamily as Drew kept his promise and kissed and nipped every part of her. He seemed to know all her most sensitive areas, and he introduced her to erogenous zones she had no idea existed. The insides of her arms, and behind her knees, for goodness sake. And if she thought about the way he’d sucked her toes then her already leaking pussy would leave a permanent stain on the bedding. When he finally eased her thong down her legs and buried his face in her cunt she was unable to remain passive. His tongue lapped at her labia, rasping and teasing until she thought she’d go out of her mind.
“Drew!” She thrust her hips upward to meet his tongue, raw need threatening to tear her in two. “I can’t take any more. Please!”
“Okay, darlin’, but you’ve got to promise you’ll tell me if I hurt you.”
“I promise,” she replied meekly.
He removed himself from the bed and a moment later she heard the sound of foil ripping. A condom, presumably. Sure enough he returned to the bed, his massive cock suited up. He positioned himself above her, taking his weight on his arms. She spread her legs wide for him and brought her knees up. Her injured thigh seemed as comfortable with the position as she was. Not that she would have cared if it wasn’t, but it was good to know that she really was on the mend.
“Just so you know, whatever happens after this between us and our families, I love you, Farah McLean. Always have and always will.”
Emotional tears blurred her eyes as he said the words she never thought to hear. She wanted to respond in kind, but he didn’t give her the chance. His lips covered hers, his fingers parted her slick folds and the tip of his cock finally sank into her vagina. The musky scent of his arousal filled her senses as her body coursed with readiness. She again lifted her hips, forcing him deeper. He was taking too much care, worrying too much about her condition, and Farah wasn’t having that. He stretched her almost to breaking point with his thick, throbbing cock and Farah loved every minute of it.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he said, sounding as though he was gritting his teeth. “I must be hurting you.”
“If you withdraw, I’ll never speak to you again.”
His chuckle sounded strained. “Can’t have that.”
He started to move inside her, his strokes firm and fulfilling as they carved intimate pathways toward her soul. Tingling exhilaration turned to liquid heat as Drew thrust all the way home, hitting the walls to her vagina and almost sending her toppling over a deep abyss.
“Drew, don’t stop. I’m…I can’t hold it. Fuck me, I’m gonna come.”
She clenched the muscles of her vagina greedily around his length and closed her eyes as pleasure spangled. Her sheath spasmed as she held him in her silken fist, taking what she so desperately needed from him, and then taking some more. This was what she had spent so many nights dreaming about but had never imagined she would actually experience the wonderful reality.
“Ride it, darlin’,” he said in a gruff voice, thrusting into her hard. “It’s all for you.”
Her eyes flew open and their gazes locked as her orgasm ripped through her like a mini tsunami. He was actually laughing at her as a white-hot explosion sent her body into sensory overload. She screamed his name and thrashed against his cock with no real sense of purpose, other than to make the sensation last forever.
When the tremors finally faded, Drew kissed the end of her nose and picked up the pace again. She knew he’d been close, but had somehow managed to hold back for her sake. Her heart was ready to burst with love. Instead, she felt a second orgasm following close on the heels of the first as the muscles in Drew’s forearms bulged and she sensed his cock fill.
“Fuck it, Farah, come with me, darlin’. Let’s do this together.”
“I am. I can’t believe it, but I am.”
“Open your eyes, sweetheart. I want to see the expression in them when we both come.”
“I love you, Drew,” she said.
“Aw, you’re only saying that ’cause you wanna come.”
“Much you know.”
She gouged his back with her fingernails, thrashed her head against the pillows, and tried to wrap her legs around his torso. She wanted him deeper. He was already filling her to capacity, stretching her so wide she felt as though she’d split in two, but it still wasn’t enough. Something told Farah that she’d never get enough of Drew Baldwin.
“Don’t do that, babe. You’re fine as you are.” His labored breath was hot and heavy against her dewy skin. “Can’t have you opening up that wound.”
The deep tug between her legs became a raging inferno as she teetered on the brink of another volcanic orgasm.
“Shit, babe, here it comes!”
“Yeah, me as well.”
She lifted her hips and they exploded together. It was like nothing she’d known before—deeper, more intense than the first time, and ten times more rewarding. She felt Drew’s hot sperm fill the condom just as her body was transported to a rarified stratosphere, the pleasure almost too decadent for her overstimulated heart to withstand.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, Drew yelled her name, drilled her with an intense look, his eyes flashing with a combination of passion and liquid fire as he told her again that he loved her.
Chapter Nine
Isaac sat perfectly still, laughing as the colt twisted his hind legs and put in an almighty buck that would have deposited most riders in the dirt. Hell, similar antics had landed other riders in the dirt, that’s why Isaac’s services were in demand.
“Nice try,” he said.
He was still laughing when the colt ran hell for leather the length of the paddock, went from a flat-out gallop to a dead halt and then reared up. The feisty animal seemed genuinely surprised to find Isaac still on his back. He snatched the reins from Isaac’s hand, snorted, and put in another almighty buck.
“Whoa! You’ll have to do better than that if you wanna get rid of me.”
Five minutes later the colt appeared to have run out of ideas and trotted, almost docilely, around the paddock.
“Well done.” Jackson Baldwin, leaning on the railings with Hailey, applauded as he opened the gate for Isaac and the colt. Isaac’s cross-breed dog Seymour—and in this case cross-breed was a compliment—got up from the patch of sun where he’d been snoozing, shook himself, and trotted along beside Isaac and the colt. “How do you do that, as a matter of interest?”
“It’s a gift, my friend,” Isaac replied, patting the colt’s sweaty neck. “It’s a gift. And it helps to have a death wish.”
“This colt put Brandon in the hospital with a broken arm, and Mark finished up with a concussion,” Hailey said. “Yet you make it seem so easy.”
“It’s just a case of letting him know who’s the boss.” Isaac winked at her. “A bit like other areas of life, if you think about it.”
“Don’t push it, buddy,” Jackson said, sliding a possessive arm around Hailey’s waist, but laughing.
“Just sayin’.”
“Well don’t.”
“Yessir!”
Isaac, Seymour still at his side, led the colt into the barn. As Isaac rubbed him down, his thoughts turned to Drew. He should have called by now. Isaac extracted his cell phone from his pocket. No missed calls. He hoped like hell that Drew hadn’t been right and the session with Farah had ended disastrously. Drew was convinced that she’d take one look at him and walk right on out again. Isaac disagreed. He sensed something—some deep connection between them that perhaps she wasn’t conscious of—when they’d had dinner the other night. Isaac didn’t know what it was, but he knew what it wasn’t.
Farah McLean definitely wasn’t indifferent toward Drew. She gave herself away in all sorts of little ways that Drew would have picked up on in a heartbeat if he didn’t have so much emotion invested in Farah. Sideways glances, little sighs, being deliberately rude and off hand. Drew was the shrink, but Isaac recognized the signs in someone trying a little too hard to cover her feelings. How dee
p those feelings actually ran was beyond Isaac’s limited ability to decide, but he’d know soon enough.
If Drew not calling meant it went well, where did that leave Isaac? He wouldn’t hold it against Drew if he wanted to keep the lovely Farah all to himself. Isaac had only met her once, and so he couldn’t claim to be in love with her in the way Drew had been since forever. What he did know was that she’d caught his attention the moment he’d laid eyes on her—even in that ridiculous wig.
He wouldn’t tell Drew this because he’d laugh himself silly, but it had felt as though his entire life had been building up to that moment. There was just something about her that got to him, and he absolutely understood now why she’d unwittingly tied Drew up in emotional knots for all these years. They tended to have the same taste in women, so it shouldn’t have surprised him, and it didn’t, not really. It was just the strength of his own feelings for a virtual stranger that had gotten him wondering.
“There we go.”
Isaac slapped the colt’s rump and went to get him his feed. As always, Seymour fell into step beside him with his ungainly gait, stupid tongue lolling out one side of his mouth, wiry coat sticking up at different angles.
“Wadda you reckon, fella?” he asked. “You think Miss Farah might wanna take on your daddy and his best buddy?”
Woof!
“You do?” Isaac laughed and ruffled the dog’s ears. “Let’s hope you’re right, ’cause I gotta tell you, she’s something else.”
As though summoned by the power of his thoughts, Isaac’s cell phone rang.
“Finally,” Isaac said, checking the caller display and taking the call. “How’d it go, buddy?”
“We’re at the loft.”
“That good, eh?”
“Wanna swing by Cho’s Chinese and pick up takeout for three, then come and join us?”
Isaac’s blood pressure spiked as he punched the air. Result! “You sure I won’t be in the way?”