Whiskey Sharp--Jagged

by Lauren Dane

  Happy enough that once she dipped her head to kiss down to his sac and back up, he picked her up and set her to the side while he rolled off the bed and began to pick through the pockets of his pants until he held up a square packet.

  “Thank god,” she said, getting caught in how he looked all naked, hard and ready to fuck.

  He took a long, careful look at her. Intimate as a caress. She let him see just how ready to be fucked she was, needing him to understand she was good to go with whatever he had in mind.

  “Ass up,” he said, voice rough with sex.

  She rolled and looked back at him over her shoulder. He grinned for a moment before rolling the condom on.

  “Brace your hands on the headboard.”

  A shiver worked over her skin as she shimmied up the bed a little so she could grab the bottom of her headboard, which handily was a spindle big enough to hold comfortably.

  His hum of satisfaction seemed to echo through her nipples. She hadn’t been so exposed and vulnerable, not during sex, in at least six years.

  So when he aligned his body behind hers, the backs of her thighs seemed extra sensitive where they brushed against the hair on his. Enough that she turned her face into her pillow when she moaned so the whole house didn’t hear.

  He was so big, the heat seemed to radiate from his skin over her like a blanket. The hands petting down her back and over the curve of her ass were powerful. But leashed. Creating nothing but pleasure. Showing nothing but delight.

  His hands left her hips and shortly after that, the head of his cock nudged against her, pressing ever so slowly inside.

  Sweet baby Jesus eating pizza, that was good. So good she began to push back as slowly as he pushed in. The edge of the burn at his invasion wisped away as she adjusted around him.

  He lapsed into Russian at a few points, holding for a few breaths before continuing. It had taken all her control not to shove herself back as hard as she could.

  He swiveled, sending sharp zings of pleasure through her and her breath shooting from her lips.

  Still, she held on because when he finally bumped all the way home, he bent over her, kissing up her spine.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured right before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. Just shy of leaving a mark. All while continuing a slow controlled thrust in and out. The way he’d shifted, his body dominated hers, keeping her exactly where he wanted.

  He controlled the speed and depth, the angle. It enabled her to let go and still have the ability to tell him what she needed. And left her with an absolute surety that he’d respect anything she said.

  How it could be scary and comforting at the same time she didn’t want to think about too much. Especially as he began to go harder and deeper. She allowed herself to drown in feeling.

  The way he stretched her, coupled with the angle, began to build a new orgasm deep in her gut.

  “Beautiful. Soft. Wet. So hot,” he murmured as he reached around to pinch her left nipple. He left her speechless with the way he saw her. With the raw need she apparently evoked in him.

  She let her head fall forward as she tightened herself around him. He slid a palm down her belly and found her clit, circling in time with his thrusts. Before long, climax slammed into her as she writhed around him, nearly overwhelmed with sensation.

  He bent again, his face in her hair as she whimpered with the last of her orgasm when his came.

  * * *

  HE’D ROLLED OFF to the side and gone to rid himself of the condom before joining her in bed, this time under the blankets where she’d burrowed. It pleased him when she sighed happily and snuggled into his side because he’d been worried he’d been too hard with her during sex.

  Given the way she slung her leg over him and looked up, smiling sleepily, they were both okay.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Want a sandwich? There’s bread and corned beef.”

  Her smile went soft. “You’re offering to make me a sandwich?”

  “Yeah. You just made me come so hard my teeth ache. I’m totally good with making sandwiches.”

  “You’re pretty handy to have around.”

  He kissed her slow, easing back into that soft, intimate place they’d newly carved out.

  “Is your sister going to run in here when I show up in the kitchen?” he asked, pulling his jeans back on.

  “Probably. Best to just get it over with and she’ll scamper off when her prurient interest is satisfied. Hopefully by the time you return with sandwiches and grape soda.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “For you I’ll bring grape.”

  He tried not to stare too long when she got out of bed to get dressed but failed, so she tossed a pillow at his head. “Go on!”

  Laughing, he headed out to make his woman a sandwich.

  Alexsei was in the kitchen as he came in. He gave Vic a long up and down and then smirked. “Go on, hummingbird,” he called out to Maybe, who scampered off to interrogate her sister.

  There was no need for Alexsei to question Vic. He was the quiet one in their relationship. It was Vic who loved to talk.

  He assembled the food as his cousin did the same.

  “The Dolan sisters need to be coaxed to eat more,” Alexsei said at last. “So busy all the time.”

  Rachel was driven, as was Maybe. Vic liked that about them. They had dreams and aspirations and they worked for them. Both sisters were so smart and tough.

  They were also vulnerable. Not so much physically, though certainly he was concerned for Rachel’s safety. But emotionally. Their father had a great deal of power to hurt their hearts. He couldn’t prevent that.

  “Fortunately, I have a connection when it comes to food. My mother won’t let them starve,” Vic said.

  “Your mother is one of my favorite people of all time.” Alexsei held up one of the noxious grape sodas the Dolans seemed to love. “Strange.”

  Alexsei didn’t ask if he was serious about Rachel. Didn’t probe for details. He knew that Vic wouldn’t be there if she’d just been a casual hookup. He wouldn’t have let Rachel get close to his parents if he wasn’t serious.

  And Vic understood Rachel enough to know he wouldn’t be in her kitchen after having sex when her sister was home if he’d been a casual hookup for her.

  The words didn’t need to be spoken. He and Alexsei would be united in protecting Rachel and Maybe the best they could.

  “They’re very close,” Alexsei said as he cracked two beers open before handing one Vic’s way. “It’s not about you. Or me.”

  “Understood and agreed.” He’d never dream of coming between Rachel and Maybe.

  Maybe came back into the room, gave Vic a thumbs-up as she reached between him and Alexsei to grab a beer. “You better get that sandwich up there. She’s super bitchy when she’s hungry.”

  “Wouldn’t want that.” With a quick goodbye, Vic grabbed the food and headed back to Rachel and her bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE NEXT DAY at work, Cora tossed herself into a chair and watched as Rachel worked, finishing up a pretty little kingfisher on a client’s calf.

  “So.”

  Rachel gave her friend a look and then back to her client, who most definitely didn’t need the details of her sexytimes with Vic.

  “This is what you get when you come into work two hours late,” Rachel muttered. “You have to wait for the juicy details now.”

  Her client snickered as she took photos and texted them to her boyfriend.

  “I wasn’t late. I was over at the venue dealing with some details for Walda’s upcoming show.”

  Walda was Cora and Finley’s mother and a Seattle-based composer and media artist who’d been prominent since the 1980s. She took being weird to a whole new level and Cora was her official handler.

  Mainly
because Walda was bananapants and no one else could manage to get her to do anything. Cora was sort of the handler for pretty much everyone in her family.

  Once Rachel had cleaned and wrapped the new ink and her client had left, she turned back to Cora. “Yes. It was awesome. His penis is massive and he is a master at oral.”

  “Wow. That answers several of my questions. But not all.”

  “Naturally. You should see him without a shirt, Cora. Like. I don’t even have the words to describe it.”

  “I bet. I figured his equipment would be prodigious.”

  “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. He gets the job done. Heh.”

  “Did he sleep over?” Cora asked.

  “No. We stayed up, watched a movie. Had more sex and then he went home at like two. He has to be up so early and everything.” She shrugged. And also she wasn’t quite ready for that.

  “Twice in one night?” Cora nodded her head, approving.

  “Well, if you want to get technical, three times. Because he went down on me to start the whole thing off. He’s an excellent date, lemme tell you.”

  “Says you. First he made you climb up a mountain. No sex is worth that.”

  “It was a hike.” Rachel seriously dug that he enjoyed the outdoors and the sorts of recreation she did like hiking and biking, and he’d promised to take her kayaking in the spring.

  “You say it like that makes a difference.” Cora’s expression said she considered most outdoor activity that wasn’t reading in the backyard under a tree worth avoiding.

  “There’s a difference between mountain climbing and a moderately strenuous hike. And, I need to correct you that oh yes, sex with Vicktor would be worth climbing a mountain for. He’s got stamina.”

  “And a big peen.”

  Rachel snorted a laugh. “That too.”

  She went to check the appointment log and realized the woman approaching the front door of the shop was her mother.

  “Shit.”

  Cora, who’d been bent over a computer screen, snapped her head up at the alarm in Rachel’s voice.

  “Isn’t she supposed to stay away from you?” Cora demanded.

  “No. Only him.” She quickly ran through her options.

  “I’ll handle it and tell her to go,” Cora said. “You call and warn Maybe.”

  Though Rachel was touched by Cora’s loyalty, she didn’t want anyone else getting put in the line of fire from her parents. “Alexsei’s got Maybe’s back just now. I’ll deal with my mother. It’s long past time,” Rachel told her. True enough. Her father had been the one to push this whole conservatorship so hard, but as far as she could tell, their mother hadn’t done a damned thing to stop him. Worse, she was part of the legal action to take away Rachel’s freedom and chain her to their decision making.

  She squared her shoulders and went to the doorway, blocking her mother’s access.

  Rather than retreating back into the shop, Cora remained at Rachel’s back. “Fine. But I’m staying right here with the phone in my hand and I will call the police on her without hesitation.”

  “Why are you here?” Rachel demanded.

  Her mother narrowed her gaze. “Don’t you speak to me in that tone.”

  Refusing to give an inch, Rachel repeated herself. “I said, what are you doing here?”

  “Let’s go somewhere private,” her mother said, voice prim.

  Rachel used to find some measure of comfort in her mother’s calm demeanor—certainly as a counterpoint to her father’s bluster—but now that she’d heard the whole story about how they’d blamed Maybe for the obsessive behavior of one of their adult friends who’d pretty much stalked her, Rachel found that tone irritating.

  Mothers were supposed to protect their kids. They sure weren’t supposed to show preference for one child over the other to the extent it caused lasting damage. Thank goodness she and Maybe were as close as they were so their parents couldn’t bust them up.

  But they’d broken something deep inside Maybe and now that Rachel knew exactly what happened, it had broken something inside her too.

  “I don’t want to speak to you at all, much less in private,” Rachel said.

  “You need to stop this legal business right now.” Her mother’s voice was just above a whisper. Mustn’t air our dirty laundry in public, said the woman who allowed her daughter to be shamed for being sexually harassed by an adult man. “You’re hurting your father very much.”

  “I wish you’d stop all this legal business right now too. I will if you will,” Rachel said.

  Her mother flinched slightly as a loud car passed on the street. “That’s different.”

  “Why? Because you’re doing it to me? I don’t want any contact from him. I told him that. He didn’t respect it. Then he showed up at my house and made such a mess he can never fix it. Back up and back off. Stay in Seattle or move back to LA. I don’t care which as long as you both leave us out of it.”

  Her mother’s mouth firmed up. “He’s going to fight this protection order. It’s just another example of just how sick you are. You don’t know what’s good for you right now.”

  Rachel hated it when her parents used that tone with her. As if she were so fragile she would shatter. If she didn’t shatter after three weeks of torture in Price’s basement of horrors she wouldn’t let this break her.

  “I am not sick. And he can fight it all he wants. But I want him out of my life. I won’t tolerate his threats anymore and I’m strong enough to protect myself and Maybe. I’ll do just that. You two started this but I’m going to finish it. And you have no one to blame but yourselves.”

  Cora put a hand on her arm, reassuring her, lending support. Telling Rachel she wasn’t alone.

  She wasn’t alone and she wasn’t powerless in a cage. She never would be again.

  “You’re turning your back on your parents. You were raised better. Think about it. Before your ordeal you were never defiant like this. You never surrounded yourself with these types of people.” Her mother gave Cora a look before turning back to Rachel. “Your sister has let you get yourself all twisted up with a bad crowd but you have choices and we’re going to be sure you have them.”

  They wanted to make everything in her life about those weeks. Only saw her as the sum of an ordeal she’d survived. She wasn’t that moment in time. It changed her, yes, but she was more than one harrowing experience.

  “You want to make my choices for me. Which is pretty much the opposite of what you’re saying. Don’t talk about Maybe after what you did to her. It’s a good thing she’s got Aunt Robbie, who’s a far better mother than you ever were.”

  It pleased Rachel to see her mother cringe as the strike landed, though there was a twinge of guilt too. She’d been raised to show deference and respect to her parents. It was difficult to let go of that, even when she had a good reason.

  Part of her would always love her parents for what they were at one time. But the parents they were to Maybe and the way they sought to take over Rachel’s life to force her to go back to the FBI and live a life she didn’t want anymore had burned out most of what she’d felt for them.

  “You weren’t this way before the incident. Surely you can admit that.”

  “Before the incident I hadn’t seen you for longer than three days in over five years. I haven’t lived at home since I was eighteen. You don’t know what I was like before that. I have a different job. My life is different in a lot of ways. But I’m still Rachel. And I never would have wanted you to put me in a cage.”

  “Before you were so traumatized you made good choices. Understandable choices. Now you’re self-destructive. On a bad path. The Rachel I know wouldn’t stop her parents from helping her get better.”

  That Rachel, that long-ago version of herself, had faded as she’d been manacled to a wall. As she’d listened to the oth
er women weep and scream. That Rachel had handed off to who she was now. A survivor.

  And yet, that Rachel still would have realized that her mother had a professional delivery. One that made Rachel suspicious. She’d been coached by someone who was building a case against Rachel.

  The flare of betrayal that soured her belly was enough to get her focused again. Her mother was attempting to manipulate her with words someone else wrote up for a desired result.

  She was smarter than this.

  She erected the armor of her mask once more. Cool. Calm.

  Which is why she thought of Vic suddenly and realized his laid-back demeanor was a mask sometimes too.

  Huh.

  Before she could say anything else to her mother, Vic came around the corner and upon seeing them all standing in the doorway and who exactly she was speaking to, his expression hardened and he quickened his stride until he approached.

  “You have an appointment in half an hour. Have a cup of tea and a snack in the meantime,” Cora told Rachel as she stepped forward to admit Vic into the shop but keep Rachel’s mother on the sidewalk out front.

  “I made cookies,” Vic said, all his focus appearing to be on her, but Rachel knew a predator when she saw one. And Vic was very aware of where her mother stood, Cora’s protective stance and the tension in the air.

  And then everything was all right. Because he was there. And Cora was there. And she was free and well.

  She turned her back on her mother.

  “Rachel! Don’t you dare turn your back on your mother!”

  She kept walking, attention on the details that made the entirety of Vicktor Orlov so damned irresistible as he poured tea and laid out the promised cookies on a little napkin.

  In the background, she heard Cora speak to her mom. “You are banned from this shop. The next time you attempt to come inside we’ll consider that trespassing and I’ll call the police.”

  Her friend’s voice was flat, but firm. They were giving her mother nothing to grab on to to use as a weapon. It warmed her that Cora was protecting her in tandem with Vic.