by Lisa Hughey
He curled his fingers around her wrist tightly. “We need a condom,” he ground out.
Wow, she’d been so caught up in John’s inner light, she’d completely forgotten protection. Rissa was on the pill but even as hot as he was she didn’t know him well enough to go bareback. No glove, no love.
But she also hadn’t come prepared. “Do you have one?” In her head she was begging. Please, please say yes. But she waited for him to answer.
“Yeah.” He reached for the crutches.
She parroted his earlier words back at him. “Thank fuck.”
That broke the sudden tension that had permeated the room and he smiled. She placed her hand over his. “Let me get it.”
His mouth tightened but he nodded, then told her where he had a stash.
She wanted to run but she sauntered to his room, swinging her hips in a little taunt, just to keep his mind on her ass, rather than the fact that he needed her to go get protection.
Once she was in the bathroom Rissa hurried, knowing that if she took too long her own brain would start churning with doubt and all the things that could go south by taking this step. She hadn’t had sex in over a year. Her whole life had been in a holding pattern, and this felt like moving forward. Like breaking the chains that held her back and freeing herself.
Clutching the little foil packet, she walked back into the living room. Her breath stopped in her throat when she saw him again.
For a moment she was struck by his beauty. Her heart thundered and her pulse roared in her head. He was male perfection. All that strength and confidence wrapped in muscles and displayed in the proud jut of his cock. He’d lost his shorts, the dusting of hair on his thighs and a happy trail across his pecs framed an impressive erection.
She swallowed. “Mercy,” she whispered. Her gaze continued to scroll over his physique, noting the flex of his powerful thighs. Angry scars marred both legs and finally she let herself look at the open space left by his missing limb. She couldn’t take her gaze away from his body as she ripped open the condom packet.
Rissa didn’t give him time to be self-conscious because she feared it would happen. She deftly rolled the super-size condom over his erection and leaned in to kiss him.
His hands cupped her ass and guided her to his cock.
He held her, supporting most of her weight, and good God, he was strong. Her hands scraped against his scalp and she commanded, “Do it.” Please.
She wasn’t above begging.
She was slick with her arousal, and even though he was big, she wouldn’t have any problems taking him inside her.
Still he took care with her. John lowered her slowly onto his erection. The head parted her folds and separated her flesh as he filled her to bursting. When she was seated fully on top of him, impaled by the thick staff, John’s hands skimmed over her flesh and clasped her hips. Rissa’s clit pulsed against the firm muscles of his abdomen as he began to rock. John pushed up inside her, hitting her g-spot, rubbing the buried button that ramped her up to another dimension.
She gripped his biceps, holding on tight as he took her for the ride of her life. The motion started off slowly but as they rocked together, each downward slide she hit a little harder, and he pushed up a little faster until they were slamming together. She bounced on top of him, her breasts bobbing and jiggling until he cupped them and pinched her nipples every time she hit his pubic bone, coming down hard.
God she was so damn close to imploding.
He grew impossibly bigger, thicker, harder inside her.
She clenched, every nerve ending sizzling with the sensation. She gasped for oxygen, trying to draw in a breath, but the air was stifling, pheromones and lust shot from their pores and surrounded them in a haze.
Suddenly John pushed up even harder, pummeling her, until he threw back his head as his orgasm took him, catapulting him over the edge into the abyss. The muscles in his arms strained as he held her to him and the pulses deep inside her body sent her into the stratosphere. She contracted around his cock, milking him hard, her body buzzing. Her orgasm was nearly painful in release. She groaned and bent to kiss him, holding on for dear life as sensations battered her from her head to her toes, and her sex contracted with vicious pulls on his still-hard cock. Her nipples hurt, so sharp with arousal, that she rubbed against him to relieve this aching buzz that shimmered and sizzled through her. She was deaf, dumb, blind as colors and light burst behind her eyes and rendered her insensate to everything but him.
Rissa slumped against his hard chest, panting in sharp, tight breaths as she tried to come down from the insane endorphin rush that flooded her body with well-being and happiness.
He curved his arms around her back, caressing her skin with sure long strokes, as if he could soothe her through the violence of her release.
He cradled her, the embrace sweet, tender, and so unlike the explosion of passion that had erupted between them. His heart thumped beneath her cheek, skin damp with sweat, and still flushed with arousal.
“God, you feel good.” His breath puffed in her ear, and a shiver rolled over her like the waves in the pool of Treasure Island.
Her body was lax with satisfaction and spent desire. She lay against his chest, letting his near sweet caress lull her into a state of lethargy.
He didn’t seem inclined to move yet either.
So they sat, him still buried deep inside her, and her surrounding him, her knees outside his hips and her arms draped over his shoulders.
“You too.” She nuzzled his neck and resisted the urge to nip on his earlobe. To mark him in some way.
The intimacy of what they’d done still hadn’t hit her. Him either, if she was gauging him correctly. Because she was pretty sure he’d bolt as soon as the reality of their nakedness hit him. It didn’t take a trained observer, which she was, to figure out that he wasn’t comfortable baring his amputated leg to anyone.
While she thought he was sexy as hell, she didn’t know if he’d actually believe her assertions even though they had indulged in torrid sex. And the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him.
Rissa could feel him start to tense up. Reality was going to intrude soon. But she figured she could offer something that just might ease his disquiet. “Right after I got out of the hospital, I…tried to drown out the chaos in my head with sex.”
He didn’t say a word but his arms tightened around her.
“It didn’t work.” Rissa laughed, the sound full of disgust rather than amusement. “If anything it made it worse.”
He cleared his throat. “Why?” His voice rough from disuse or embarrassment? She didn’t know.
She shrugged. “Every time I had an orgasm I felt guilty. Because I was alive to have an orgasm and my partner wasn’t.”
“That’s, um….”
“Fucked up. I know.” Rissa sighed. “That’s why I stopped having sex.”
“So what made you change your mind?”
She hesitated again. He wasn’t being a dick but he also hadn’t relaxed at all. She definitely hadn’t chosen her sexual partners with any discrimination right after the incident. And suddenly the idea of baring her soul was far more intimate than baring her body.
“I want to make a joke about being horny,” she murmured against his skin.
“Would it really be a joke?”
“Nope. Definitely horny.” But that wasn’t why she’d had sex with him.
“And?”
“My partner would have liked you,” she said. “You’re a protector. A warrior. Worthy.”
The silence was absolute.
“Too early for the truth, huh?” She tried to play it off. “In the spirit of full confession, random hookups had been my drug of choice. Until I finally figured out that wasn’t helping me heal. And I owed it, owed it, to him to live a worthwhile life.”
“A worthwhile life,” he murmured with wonder.
She doubted he even knew he’d said the words aloud. He seemed lost in his thoughts. A
nd based on anatomy, it was time for her to get off him.
She was reluctant to disengage their bodies.
She wanted to crawl into his bed with him and let him hold her and she could hold him. But he wouldn’t let her get that close. And she had a responsibility to Maria. A job to return to even if this had been an absolutely magnificent interlude from her responsibilities.
He kissed the tip of each breast, then tilted her head down and kissed her forehead. Her forehead. Not exactly an erogenous zone.
And she wondered if he was sending her back to her camp.
“Thank you.” He brushed his lips over hers. Then he pushed her to her feet and handed her the pajamas. “Go on back to your room. I’ll handle the cleanup.”
As if what they’d done was some sort of toxic waste accident instead of spectacular sex. For a second she thought he was going to swat her on the ass and give her a shove toward the room.
But at the last minute he gave her a “well, this is awkward” smile and chin lift.
And she finally got the hint.
Chapter 8
Seven o’clock in the morning and the temps were already in the low 90s. John ran on the high school track, his running blade prosthetic springing against the recycled rubber. Sweat poured down his face as he pushed his body to the limit. When he’d first gotten out of Walter Reed, even with his daily physical therapy sessions, he’d been ridiculously weak. And he couldn’t stand it.
His body had always been a tool he could count on. Yes, he had days where his muscles were on fire and his phantom limb ached but he wasn’t about to let that fucking IED stop him. A fierce satisfaction roared through him when he hit mile ten. His muscles strained and his shorts were soaked with sweat as he pushed on. “Ooh rah.”
He’d slept like shit.
He’d alternated between reliving the mind-blowing sex and Rissa’s final words, “a worthwhile life.”
Though it had been a while, John still acknowledged that last night had been the best sex of his life. She’d blown the top off his head, and gotten him over the hump of that first sexual encounter. He’d been a little unsteady without his prosthetic on but he’d managed her on his lap with relative ease and little discomfort. Based on how hard she’d come, he’d wager she hadn’t even thought about the lack of his leg.
Her whispered confession had been the other tip of that seesaw teetering back and forth in his brain.
He needed to find the honor in his life again. First he’d have to start with not having sex with Rissa again. Sadly, he didn’t think banging his coworker was honorable. He was sure Jack would see it that way too. And John didn’t want to emulate his own father, a man who seemingly couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, seeing as he had five adult children with four different women. John wanted to be like the fictional, made-up father his mother had told him about, not his true train wreck of a father.
John started his cool-down laps, knowing he needed to get back to the suite. He was determined to take Rissa and Maria to the shooting range.
Who would show up this morning? BB or the sweeter, more vulnerable Rissa? John slowed his pace, thinking about her mercurial moods, and realizing as he finished slowing his heart rate and loosening his muscles, that he didn’t really care which Rissa showed up. He liked them both.
Which sucked since he’d just figured out that more sex with Rissa was off the table.
As much as he liked Rissa, she and Bliss were friends which meant awkwardness when they stopped having sex. If John had read Jack correctly, he was considering partnering with Rissa’s employer on more jobs which also meant he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize that relationship either.
After driving back to their hotel, he climbed the stairs to the third floor and headed to the suite. His shirt was hooked in the waist of his shorts and he reveled in the cool air blowing from the ceiling vents.
Before he could hold the card over the sensor, the door to the suite burst open and Rissa barreled into him.
“Oof.” She bounced off his chest even as he grabbed her elbows to stop her from falling on her ass.
“I am not normally this clumsy….” She stalled, her gaze riveted to his chest.
John couldn’t help but be amused, and flattered, by her distraction.
The air around them thickened, a languid intensity hovered in the atmosphere, and John’s muscles expanded under her heated gaze. Rissa lazily raised her gaze to meet his, her aquamarine eyes cloudy with arousal.
John indolently skimmed his fingers from her elbow up to her shoulder and back down again. His lids drooped as a slight smile quirked his lips. Here was another Rissa. A little soft, a lot flustered, and clearly at a loss for words.
“Steady now?”
Rissa blinked, took a step back, breaking his light hold. Her invisible armor settled over her like a shell and that sweet, soft woman disappeared.
“Yeah.” She was totally lying. Her husky voice betrayed how he affected her. “Thanks.”
He studied Rissa. She was back in her mannish business attire again. A barrier against the world. Against him? “Give me twenty to shower and we can head out.”
She quivered, her eyelids flinched. Subtly. But he’d seen it. “Not necessary.”
John took a step toward Rissa until they were nearly toe to blade. “Yeah. It is.”
He hated to push. Knew how much it sucked to be backed into a corner over something you didn’t want to do. But he also knew that she needed to figure out what her limitations were. He also knew that if he put it that way, she’d cut off his balls and serve them for breakfast.
“We’re taking Maria too,” John continued, not giving her time to argue. “You were right. She needs to start getting out.”
“You can’t make that decision for her.” For me was what she was really saying.
“And I’m not.” John took his shirt from the waist of his shorts and rubbed the cotton over his hair. “Connor called me while I was on my way home from the track. Maria wants to start taking back more control of her life. I guess getting freaked out yesterday pissed her off rather than sent her cowering.”
John was in awe of her fortitude. Maria could give ballsy lessons to anyone.
With that he knew Rissa wouldn’t protest any more. After knowing her for only one day, he knew there was no way in hell she’d let her own perceived inadequacies negatively impact Maria.
“Fine.” Rissa crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her body from his hungry gaze.
Somehow they’d bulldozed right past the awkward morning-after convo.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked silkily, unable to let her go without some sort of acknowledgement of their intimacy. Which was stupid. Hadn’t he just decided that last night had to be a one-time deal? He couldn’t afford to jeopardize his relationship with his brother, or the business relationship his brother was building with Adams-Larsen.
She rolled her eyes at him, clearly not about to give him the satisfaction of stroking his ego. “I’ll let Maria know we’re leaving soon.” She headed toward her room without another glance. Her absolute avoidance of him flashed like a neon sign as bright as the night sky of Vegas, telling him she remembered last night too.
Then John sighed.
Based on the way she was avoiding him, she was on the same page. Last night was a sensual detour that neither could afford to take again. No matter how much their bodies wanted them to.
He had hoped that their explosive encounter would have eased the need that dogged him relentlessly whenever he was around Rissa, but if anything his desire had increased.
The impulse to press her up against the granite breakfast bar and immerse in her scent and the sweet feminine clasp of her body surged through him.
Can’t go there again. Damn but that sucked. While he’d been missing sex, it had been a sort of a “back of his mind, need to get back on the horse” nagging at him rather than a constant ache. But after last night, his body was fully on board with repeating th
e process.
“I’ll be out of the shower and ready to go. Meet you back here.”
She paused at the connecting door to her side of the suite. Her body was stiff with tension. “Okay.”
John headed for his shower. His cold shower.
Rissa hustled into the room she shared with Maria. She closed the interconnecting door gently, then leaned back against the hard surface and willed her thundering heartbeat to slow. Holy Mother of God. When all that hard male flesh had been inches away, she’d had to physically stop herself from leaning into him and licking his damp skin.
He was perfection. Michelangelo would have begged to sculpt him, Michael Stokes would beg to photograph him. Her hands trembled as she swept her hair into a ponytail, holding the thick fall off her neck to cool down.
“Everything okay?”
Rissa yelped.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Maria said gently.
“No. Not you, me.” Rissa refused to let Maria take the fall for her wandering thoughts. “I was just….” She blushed. She. Blushed.
When was the last time she’d gotten that flustered by a guy?
Maria blinked. The skin around her dark eyes crinkled in amusement as she glanced at the door behind Rissa’s back. “Ay-yi-yi, as my mama used to say.”
“Excuse me?”
“John without his shirt on.” Maria waved her hand in front of her face, fanning herself, and her amused gaze shifted to the door again. “He’s hot.”
“I assure you Maria, there is nothing untoward going on,” Rissa said stiffly. Could the stick get further up her ass?
Maria flicked her hand. “I don’t care if you two hook up.”
Rissa started to protest that they weren’t hooking up but that wasn’t actually true. They’d been…involved last night, that was for sure. So she kept silent. “I won’t let anything affect your safety,” she finally ground out.
Rissa wasn’t even sure what last night was all about. Relieving tension, sure. But in the protective darkness their passion had felt like something more. Like they’d connected on a level she’d never felt before.