by Cherrie Lynn
“She was, and she still is.” He chuckled. “But she’s someone else’s problem now.”
Starla felt her mouth stretch in a smile, maybe the first genuine one since Brian was attacked. No guilt came with it this time. “Problem, huh?”
“She always was a handful. But let’s not talk about her. Are you holding up okay? All things considered?”
“I guess so.” Hearing his voice here in the dark was doing things to her. Was that completely awful of her? That a man she’d always loved was lying in a hospital trying not to die because of her and she was here lusting after someone else? No. Awful was loving Brian in the first place. Awful was spending her life trying not to think about him. She didn’t want this anymore. She would always love Brian Ross as a friend, as a person. But she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t suffer the shame, the guilt.
She could have this man in front of her, though, if only for a short time. If he wanted her.
“Is it true you were only worried about how it would look if you asked me to sleep in your bed?” she asked him, her entire body shaking with her pulse. Jesus Christ, no one had ever made her feel like this. No one. This hope, this giddy expectation that ran so much deeper than sexual need—though the sexual need was certainly potent enough. There was a heavy magnet low in her stomach, and it was begging to draw him in. She slid her bare thighs against each other. She wore only panties and an extra-long Misfits T-shirt that had belonged to some old forgotten boyfriend but was still her favorite thing to sleep in. The soft fabric chafed against her tightening nipples. They missed the heat of his mouth, ached to feel it again.
“Darlin’,” he said, and his hand left hers to travel up and stroke featherlight over her cheek, “it’s been all I could do not to carry you in here with me. But you’re vulnerable right now. You don’t need me adding to that.”
Vulnerable. Not exactly the way she’d ever heard herself described before. Not exactly the way she wanted to think of herself. He saw a different side of her—he saw the person she was always trying to hide from the world. “I’m only vulnerable to you if you plan to hurt me,” she whispered, and waited for the lie, any lie.
The lies that all men tell. I’ll never hurt you. I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only one. I love you.
“I can’t promise I’ll never disappoint you or let you down. I can promise I’ll try my damnedest not to.” Those gently stroking fingers grew more firm, holding her face as he spoke next. “But I will never hurt you, and neither will anyone else, if I have to give my last breath to stop them.”
A chill went through her as she thought of Max and the threat he posed. Was she insane to let Jared involve himself like this? Of course, there was no “letting” Jared do anything. Jared was going to do what he damn well pleased.
Somehow, even though the words he’d said included a common lie, she knew his were the truth. Maybe it was because she and Jared, from the very night they met, had begun from a place of brutal honesty—he saw her fuckups, he knew her ridiculous infatuation. She saw his guilt and his inability to let go of his past love. They were well acquainted with each other’s truths. How could either of them lie to the other?
Or maybe she was just stupid.
“It makes me really nervous for you to say that,” she said.
“Don’t be. Soon it will all be over.”
“And that’s even worse.” But she couldn’t even imagine how wonderful it would be for everything to go back to normal. Except… “After it’s all over, what then?”
“Are you talking about us?”
She nodded. “Am I here because you want to help me, or is it more than that?”
“More,” he said without hesitation. “Definitely more.”
“I was afraid all this might have changed your mind.”
“It hasn’t.”
“So you still want to keep seeing me?”
“Starla, you’re here now, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be if I didn’t want you to be. Yes, I want to keep seeing you.”
“I suppose we’re doing things backwards, living together before we’ve seriously dated. Your family and friends will wonder what the hell you’re thinking.”
“They can kiss my ass. This is our business, not theirs.”
Starla sighed and concentrated on his soothing touch for a while. “It’s strange to think the police could catch him any time. I mean, it could be over tomorrow.”
“It’s okay to be optimistic.”
“I’m scared to death they won’t hold him. That they’ll question him and he’ll have an alibi, or some fucked-up thing like that.” It made her skin crawl to think he was out there, somewhere, right now. He was free, and Brian was imprisoned in that hospital bed.
“I know it’s hard, but try not to worry. Just sleep, honey. You need it. No bad dreams.”
“No bad dreams,” she repeated and, despite her body’s earlier signals, felt drowsiness creeping in. The need for sleep was winning out over the need for sex, something she never thought would happen. She must be getting old, and she didn’t even care.
It wasn’t nightmares that plagued her once she fell asleep beside him. Her tumultuous desire followed her into her dreams, creating feverish images of him touching her, kissing her, sliding over her, sliding inside her. So real, so sweet—when she was shaken awake, it was as if her favorite song had stopped in the middle of her favorite part. Blinking, she stared up into his face, remembering that hateful nightmare from before and praying this wasn’t another one.
“Are you all right?” he asked huskily. He must have been asleep himself. “You were moaning.”
Oh, yes I was.
Just as her lust had followed her into dreamland, it followed her back out. Caught in a fit of need, she grasped his head and pulled him to her, not caring about her breath or decorum or guilt. She only knew she couldn’t wait any longer, and she wouldn’t let him make her. Already, she trembled on the edge of orgasm, having been brought there by dream Jared, but he had nothing on real-life Jared.
“I was dreaming of you,” she whispered against his lips.
He groaned, only inflaming her further. “I was dreaming of you too.”
Starla let her hand skim down his rock-hard abs and found evidence that he was telling the truth. He was so hard, it drew a whimper from her throat, and her touch drew an answering growl from him. “What was I doing in your dream?” she asked.
“Riding me.”
God, she couldn’t even wait to get this man under her, to get him inside her. “I think I can make that a reality for you.”
“I want to see you,” he breathed into her mouth.
She wanted that too, so much. It was so dark. “See me, then.” But the few seconds he was away clicking on the lamp were agonizing. Soft, warm light flooded the room, highlighting the outer curves of his muscles and becoming lost in the dips and recesses of his body. He looked edible—she probably looked a hot mess with bedhead and her nightshirt pushed haphazardly up her body. Before he could lie down again, she sat up and trailed her mouth down his taut abdomen while he was still on his knees, following the line of dark hair to the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath hissed in; his hand drifted down on the top of her head, soothing, encouraging, nothing of force or selfishness in its weight.
Oh yes, this was what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for since seeing him at her door tonight. Gently tugging his pants down, she took great joy in watching the waistband hang on his hard cock, even greater joy in watching the latter spring free, thick and gorgeous and all for her. Wrapping a hand around the base, she angled the head toward her lips, listening for his reaction with every touch. Her heart sang in triumph with each groan and growl he uttered. She wanted to drive him crazy, push all memories of any past love out of his head and heart for good, so that there was only room for her. One day, if they didn’t work out, she would be the one he couldn’t get over. She would be the one who haunted his heart, whom he compared every other woman to. It se
emed cruel to wish that on someone, but if only they could last forever, it would be beautiful.
She stroked and teased, licked and sucked, showing him everything in her bag of tricks until sweat broke out on him, and she finally pulled him so deep down her throat, her air cut off and his hands fisted in her hair, and he seemed to want to pull her away but couldn’t make himself. Her name falling in rough ecstasy from his lips was the most precious sound she’d ever heard. More, she wanted more of him. Clenching her fingers in the firm muscles of his ass, she pushed him even deeper. Her pussy ached in response, jealous of her mouth getting all the fun.
Suddenly, he pushed her away and fell back on one hand, the most gorgeous creation on God’s green earth with his cock even bigger and harder now and an angry red from the suction of her mouth. She expected him to come, but he didn’t—he was only catching his breath. “Fuck, Starla,” he rasped, then exhaled long and deep, his mouth forming a sexy O.
She winked at him, lying back with her knees spread wide. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Fuck Starla. Fuck her now.”
“Oh, baby. If I go in now, I won’t last three seconds.”
“I don’t care.”
His gaze was hot and heavy on the scrap of fabric between her legs. She felt that look, felt her body’s reaction to it as if it were a physical caress he gave her. “I do,” he said. When he pushed her knees apart and dove in, she nearly came off the bed. Heated breath rushed over her damp panties, tickled her inner thighs. He licked her and sucked her, leaving that cotton panel as a barrier between them, getting it wetter. She reached down to move it out of his way, to feel the slick heat of that tongue. He grabbed her hand and held it fast, his grip as good as iron. The same fate met her other hand when it wandered down—really she’d just wanted to be held down by him, helpless, dominated. Her thighs pressed wide by his broad shoulders, her arms immobile, she was dying of denied pleasure.
“Please!” she cried. His tongue slipped in the side of her panties, and her hips wrenched up. But he only went back to doing what he did before: teasing, denying her, driving her mad. And she’d wanted to drive him crazy? He went down better than any other man she’d ever met in her life. Only when she rested her ass on the mattress again did he give her another little taste, nosing her panties aside and tickling her piercing until her chest heaved. He liked that view, she thought, watching him watch her.
“If I let you go,” he murmured, the vibrations of his voice going deep in her cunt, sending out little rivers of electricity through her body, “will you be good?”
“I’ll fucking show you good,” she all but snarled.
“That’ll do.”
He released her hands. Snatched her panties aside. The keening cry she released when his tongue dipped into her pussy was fucking embarrassing, and she was helpless again. Liquid, she was liquid between her legs, thick and hot, and so was he, tonguing her deep. Then he withdrew, and she whimpered.
“I love how you taste,” he growled. “I love how you smell.” His fingertip trailed over her VCH piercing. “I love this.”
“Do you?” Her voice shook.
“Hell yes.”
“I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Haven’t you figured it out? I love everything about you.” From between her legs, his blue eyes burned up at her.
Is he going to say it? He can’t say it. Not yet. I’ve never said the words. I don’t think I can now. Even if I think…
But no. His mouth went back to her. The time for teasing and denying her was over. This was a deliberate siege laid upon her body, and her orgasm was his prize, and all he had to do was encircle her throbbing clit with his lips and suck until she shattered, shouting so loud she crammed a fist to her mouth to keep from embarrassing herself. The world went away—everyone, everything. Even Jared went away. Nothing existed but her, and her body, and her pleasure. She wouldn’t know later how to thank him for that.
He didn’t stop until she was wrung out, wasted, limp and panting on his bed. But she cracked open an eye to see nothing about him was limp. Oh God. Oh…God. He was rummaging in his nightstand drawer, presumably for a condom. Any other time, she would relish watching him roll it on, but she could seriously go to sleep now. As she heard that package crinkling and Latex unfurling, she knew it wasn’t to be. This wasn’t over.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, not moving on top of her but stretching out beside her.
“Mm-hmm,” was all she could manage. Even that sounded light and airy, as if she could drift off any second. His hand stroked over her stomach, caressing lightly. She smiled, half in a dream. He touched her all over, even her arms and legs, bringing her body back to waking life after the world’s ending a few moments ago. Often, his mouth followed his hands, moving softly and damply over tattooed and unmarked skin alike. He slid her panties down her legs, again following them with kisses. He lifted one of her hands, kissing each finger. He lifted the other and did the same. Then her breasts, one and the other, his beard scratching lightly. She felt revered, worshipped.
Loved.
Her eyes opened, and she reached for him, pulling him over her. “Now? Please?” He went into her arms readily, not holding himself up but easing down over her so he could hold her close and drop kisses along her jaw and the edges of her lips. His kneed her thighs apart—oh yes, she loved that move. Something so primal about it, so possessive. She was his, and he was going to take her.
Her body wasn’t as done as she’d thought. As soon as her pussy felt the first nudge of him, she realized how slick she still was, how needy his caresses had made her. His mouth sought and found hers. His body invaded hers. One strong, slow thrust stretching her while he shuddered over her, and she cursed and clutched at his back and nearly died from the absolute fucking perfection of it.
“Starla,” he said, for the first time sounding weak and astounded. “Oh God.”
All the times before had been child’s play. She’d never thought so then, but she knew so now. Nothing, nothing had ever compared to this. It broke her heart to think nothing ever would. If he left her…
The thought was almost horrifying enough to push him away, to not take the chance. For him to strip her down to her essential being and then abandon her would be a hurt she couldn’t bear. To make her feel all these beautiful things and then deprive her of his touch forever would kill her.
Jesus, she couldn’t take it. “Jared, a few minutes ago, you made me stop thinking. Do it again. Please.” Before I decide I can’t do this with you.
He kissed her mouth, tongue gently dancing with hers as his hips picked up a devastating rhythm, not the hard, pounding fuck she’d been asking for but a strong, steady heartbeat that only shook her up more inside. Harder. Faster. Please. Not like you love me. Not like that.
But she couldn’t ask, because it was so good like this. Too good. The line was crossed, and she couldn’t go back. He was going to make her come to this sweet, intimate beat between their bodies, and she would be doomed.
“You’re thinking,” he murmured, and she realized she’d been gazing up into his disconcerting blue eyes, and he’d probably taken note of every emotion passing through her own. “I’m not doing my job.”
“Oh, you are. Keep doing it.” His hips increased their tempo, his strength reminding her that this man rode bulls and horses and whatever the fuck else. She bit her lip, pleasure furrowing her brow as the friction increased. Thank God for a man who knew how to work his hips and hit every sweet spot inside. He was driving the breath from her with every thrust but still managed to somehow be gentle, to be terrifyingly perfect. But just as she was beginning to feel the first sweet tightening of her inner muscles around him, he pulled out and sat up on his knees, taking her with him.
“Fuck, I was so close,” she complained, squirming to reclaim him.
“I know,” he said with a grin, evading her. Then he dropped his head to rain kisses down her throat, her chest. His dick jutted up between them, hard, so big, and
she had to console herself by rubbing her clit up and down its length.
“You are the hardest man to fuck I think I’ve ever met.”
“But you like the challenge.”
“I think I like your cock in me more.”
He lay back then, leaving her sitting on his thighs with that massive, glorious, straining erection all for her, and she suddenly remembered his dream. Riding me. “Then take it, Starla. I’m not as much of a challenge as you think.”
Rising up on her knees, she inched up his body until she straddled his hips. Taking him in her hand, she positioned him and—oh, so fucking good—eased down inch by inch. And there were a lot of inches. His head dug back into the mattress and his hands slapped hard on her hips as he sought to control her descent, but she wouldn’t let him. “Ooh, I like that,” she assured him, rolling her hips. “You can spank me if you need to, baby.”
He chuckled. “Yeah?”
Nodding, she leaned down and gave his firm pec a gentle squeeze with her teeth. The air whooshed out of him. Inside her, he throbbed hard. She clenched on him in return, increasing the pressure of her bite. Those big hands gripped her ass so hard it hurt, holding her open over him. She bit until he gave her right ass cheek a smack, and she gasped with the stinging ecstasy of it, half expecting him to apologize or stop, but he didn’t. He grasped two solid handfuls of her hair and stared up into her eyes with barely leashed savagery, the blue burning bright even in the shadows, and she knew then. Oh yes, he can be wild too.
“Ride it, baby. Don’t you dare fucking stop until you take everything you want.”
Planting her hands on his chest, she did it. Oh fuck, she wrung every bit of promise from those hot words—they’d been everything she’d ever wanted to hear. She might not have much control over her crazy life most of the time, but right now, he’d given her control over him, over her own pleasure. He encouraged her, gritted his teeth, held back his own release as she let the sweet ache grow into an all-consuming firestorm and came with deep, gasping sobs. He caught her when she fell over him, but given his hardness still riding high inside her, she knew he hadn’t come himself. Their bodies were slick against each other, sweat intermingling. As she lifted her head to look at him, single strands of her hair caught in his beard. He swept them back, chuckling.