Love: In the Fast Lane

by Rie Warren

  I could tell Josh felt the same way about Leelee when he sat back and pulled the brim of his fedora over his eyes.

  Aaand then the women began to dance. All of them together. My eyes almost bugged out of my head, watching all that female flesh and did they ever ride. Each other, the bar, and then—ooooh—all five of them against one another.

  You could’ve heard a pin drop—or a cock pop off—from the sudden silence among the gathered, sexually charged men.

  When the honeys unwound from the sinuous, snaking slide against one another, I wiped a bead of perspiration from my forehead. I shut my eyes. I didn’t look again, even when I heard:

  “How does she—”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Because it’s like her legs are—”

  “Really bendy.”

  “Wouldn’t that hurt her tits?”

  “Fuck that. How can I convince my girlfriend to do that?”

  One of the old guys with a croak in his voice shouted, “Holy Mother of Christ. I haven’t seen that since my Beatrice was in her twenties.” I turned around to focus on Buddy. He had an impish gleam in his eyes. “She was a gymnast, you know.”

  The thought of Buddy’s Beatrice getting up to something kinky cooled me right down. When the song ended, I breathed a sigh of relief. Josh exhaled beside me, and there was a lot of adjusting to the groin area going on all around.

  That’s when some dumbfuck hanger-on of Mick’s slurred, “Hey y’all, I heard that woman handlin’ the parts orders at Stone’s used to be a stripper.”

  Testosterone ripped through me like a freight train going downhill with no brakes. I barged to my feet, pushing men out of my way to get to the loudmouth talking smack about my woman. In my side sight, Brodie and Boomer aimed their wrath on the dickhead, but I wanted to be the one to take him down.

  With my fist pulled back, I grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him to his feet. “You need to shut the fuck up,” I hissed.

  I hammered a punch into his face, making sure he’d do just that. His head whiplashed back and came back for another head-knocker. My bloody knuckles connected with a jarring, satisfying crunch to his nose.

  Someone hauled me out of the way before I could land another bone-smashing blow. It was Josh. He kept a neck lock on me as I tried to wrestle free. “Not tonight, dude. You did enough damage.”

  I watched through a red mist of rage while Brodie and Boomer escorted the big mouth out the door with his elbows ratcheted behind his back. I’d totally be their accomplice in a Murder One rap.

  The party reconvened once the Steele bros returned. There were bruises on their knuckles, too. The look sent my way was one of mutual respect and all about keeping Cat’s past safe. I lost my taste for the strippers after the fight. In fact, it wasn’t nearly as much fun as watching Josh squirm over all the slick dancing dicks gyrating in front of Leelee at the strip joint in Atlanta.

  I decided it was time to cut the women loose. I sent them on their way with many thanks and a hefty tip. The air cleared after that. We pushed the sofas into a circle and settled down for beers, cigars, and good ol’ Texas Hold’em. No women, no worries, and just a celebration of Josh’s upcoming wedding. Of course the old codgers cleaned house because they were practically Vegas-grade gamblers whether it came to chess, checkers, or community card poker.

  The winner rolled his windfall into an antique money clip and pocketed our cash. Tipping the brim of his newsboy cap, he said, “See y’all at Stone’s if you wanna take me on again.”

  The limo dropped us off at our houses one-by-one. Everyone said their goodnights and congrats to Josh like it was his last night as a free man. Except it wasn’t his last night, and the judging by the way he smiled cheek-to-cheek, he was over the moon about getting hitched.

  Before he hopped out of the limo, when we were the only two left, I threw an arm around him. “I’m gonna miss you, man.”

  He looked like I’d grown a second set of balls between my legs. “What for? I’m getting married. I’m not moving to Timbuktu.”

  “Well, you are honeymooning in Bora Bora.”

  “Are getting sentimental on me?”

  “No, I just . . . you’re my family, you know?” I pulled my arm back.

  His swift hug almost cracked a couple ribs and his voice got gruff. “You’re mine, too.” Releasing me with half-grin, he said, “Now lemme get out of here before Leelee thinks I’ve got some ladies in the limo.”

  “All right, dude. See you next week.”

  Stag night success. Hangovers to all. And I needed to get home to Cat.

  ****

  My head was seriously fucked up by the time I reached the house, and not because of the alcohol. My brain fired off in so many different directions because of Cat and her past and coming face-to-face with it tonight. I flexed my bruised, cracked knuckles. I hoped that piece of shit had a broken nose complemented by two broken legs care of Brodie and Boomer.

  When I walked through the house, I didn’t find Cat until I reached my office. She lay stretched out in a loose tank top and shorts in front of the fire, Viper her foot warmer. I hunkered in front of her. The white of her top showed the tips of her rose-colored nipples with strands of something delicate and metallic hanging from the piercings.

  Hot steel was the color of her eyes tonight. Her black hair hung over her shoulder and down her back, spreading over the floor.

  I trailed one hand down her arm and the multi-colored tats. I twined my fingers between hers and pulled. “Come.”

  The whole night set something off in me, a forward rolling motion I couldn’t stop. I didn’t say another word as we reached the bedroom. Unlinking our hands, I stepped away, leaving her standing by the foot of the bed.

  I wanted Cat needy for me, as needy as I felt. Needy for more, always more of her. A desire to have her as no other man had stretched my skin with aching arousal.

  Throwing off my jacket, I ripped through my tie next. Cat’s breath labored in her chest, pushing her luscious breasts harder against the thin cotton tank top. A muscle in my jaw clenched, and I made quick work of my shirt, shrugging it off. The belt was next, whipped to the floor with a heavy metal clank and a slap of leather as it fell from my hand.

  “Clothes off, Wildcat.”

  Her eyes shuttered for a moment, and I waited—my breath stopped—for a string of curses to fly at me. They never came. When her gaze clashed with mine, raging fire steeped within. The fire of passion ruling out past pain and anger. Her top was lifted over her head, but she halted halfway home, giving me the sight of her uptilted tits. Slim silver chains shimmied to the underslopes of her breasts from the flashpoint of her nipple piercings.

  “I said off.” The guttural tone of my voice matched the gut-deep surge of heat spreading outward until my fists clenched so I wouldn’t do the deed myself and rip that top to shreds.

  It fluttered to the floor. She shook her hair free. Her hands raked through it, lifting it up, letting it settle all over her breasts and waist and hips.

  I pointed one finger. “The shorts.”

  She slipped them down her legs with a rolling motion to reveal smooth tawny skin. I pressed the heel of my palm against my rigid erection, swallowing a groan. Cat watched me. She licked and bit her lip—a moan curling out of her.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and turned her to face me. With the instep of my foot, I spread her legs wider. Looking at her heaving breasts and glowing ink, I unfastened my pants, slid down the zipper. I left the pants closed over my cock.

  In front of me, Cat’s pussy was rich-colored, very slick. I slipped a finger between the pretty lips, lowly laughing when her thighs trembled and she gasped out my name.

  “Are you mine?” My gaze held hers as I slowly drove a single finger in and out of her.

  “Yes.”

  “And you know I’ll protect you. I’d never hurt you.” I withdrew my finger all the way to graze it around her sweet, swollen labia.

  She considered m
e for a moment.

  Let me in all the way, baby.

  A decision firmed in her eyes. “I trust you, Nick.”

  Gripping her thighs in both hands, I bent my forehead to her belly. Her hands fell to my hair and she pulled it free of the leather band. I groaned at her touch as she caressed gentle fingers through my hair.

  “I might get rough tonight.” I shuddered hard. Desire for her was beginning to sweep away my restraint.

  “I trust you,” she said again.

  I sucked in a steadying breath. My hand moved down her tummy. My fingers slid down her slit and into her slippery pussy. I brought those wet fingers to my mouth and sucked them between my lips. “Sweetest cunt.”

  Her hips started gyrating, seeking more, but I placed a hand on her waist. “Not yet.” I needed her to want me as much as I wanted her.

  Cat’s slim nostrils flared. Her lips parted. Her eyes locked with mine.

  When I peeled my pants away from my cock and slowly rolled my briefs down, she moaned. The loud hungry noise drove me harder. I bared my shaft, my balls too, leaving the fabric to frame what I wasn’t going to let her have. Yet. Reverting to my old dirty ways, I stroked my length in front of Cat. I teased her with it. The feeling of my palm wrapped around my dick was made ten thousand times hotter with her staring.

  “Nick, please let me,” she said on a gasp.

  “Not yet.” I rolled my hips up toward her, almost touching her shaky thigh, and she pleaded again. “On your knees.”

  She dropped to the floor. I played with her nipples. Palming her tits, I tugged one chain then the other.

  “Give me your hand,” I ordered.

  When she placed her hand in mine, I pulled her forward. I curled her fingers around my cock. The connection was a wild shock. I grunted and she whimpered.

  Removing my hand, I said, “Yeah, keep it like that. Nice and slow. Don’t make me come.”

  Through her long, strong pump-action, I watched Cat lick her lips to glistening point before she started to bend closer.

  I fisted her hair and held tight. “No mouth either. I know how much you wanna suck me. Not yet.” I used her hair to tilt her up face. Kissing her deeply, I delved my tongue inside. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

  When veins jutted along my shaft and precome dripped from the tip in a slick slip ’n’ slide, when I couldn’t control the thrust of my hips and my voice grew hoarse, I peeled Cat’s fingers off me.

  “Nick,” she growled.

  I stood up, over her. Her parted mouth was right beneath my cock. I spit down, hitting my dick, making myself even wetter. I lowered my balls to her lips.

  She mouthed over them, under them. She tugged the sensitive skin. Cat curled her tongue and dragged it around and around until she sucked one then the other. She hummed at the back of her throat.

  After pulling back, I placed both her hands on my hips. “I need you aching to fuck me, Wildcat. You make so goddamn crazy.”

  Her eyes widened, silvery and sharp. Her tits brushed against my thighs and she moved sinuously like she was already riding me. My cock reached between us, meeting her lips.

  “Keep ’em closed. Get me throbbing, darlin’.”

  She rubbed my shaft against her wet lips, her cheeks.

  I gripped my meat and slapped it against her mouth. “Suck my cock.”

  A hungry moan tumbled through her lips then she sucked me inside. I almost blew my load the second I breached her mouth. Her loud slurps and twisting tongue action were nearly too much to handle.

  The blowjob went on for as long as I could contain myself. But the sheer level of her desire coupled with my need sent a lightning bolt right to the tight knot beneath my balls. Holding Cat’s hair off her face, I met her delirious gaze.

  I’d always liked it rough and wild. But this was beyond . . . This isn’t right.

  Something rolled up my back—foreboding, fear, sheer fucking stupidity—at the same time come blasted out of my cock, into Cat’s hungry mouth. My orgasm threw me out of my body and back into my mind.

  I shouted. I froze and grunted at the milking motions of her lips sucking down every drop of my come. Slipping free of her mouth, I realized what I’d done to her. How I’d played Cat so badly tonight.

  I knelt down and lifted her into my arms. Kissing her cheek and the top of her hair, I carried her to the bed.

  “Got that out of your system?” Her words weren’t an accusation. They were sad realization, husky from her roughly used throat.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I laid her gently down on her stomach and crawled in beside her.

  She managed a small puff of laughter that cooled between us as my hand ran up and down her back. “Don’t get me wrong. It turned me on, but . . .”

  “I shouldn’t have done that to you, Cat.”

  “I get it. You saw strippers tonight. You thought about what I used to do. You had to be the man. Just remember that when I need to take you in hand.”

  I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me. “How did you know?”

  She propped onto her elbows on my chest. “Please. Bachelor party. Southern boys. Strippers. Typical.”

  “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

  “You really do have issues with me, don’t you?”

  Before I could answer, she brought my bruised fist to her face. “What’s this?”

  Hell if I was going to tell her some little shithead was badmouthing her. Bloody knuckles and a fist fight to protect Cat’s privacy, her honor? So be it. “Accident with the Beast yesterday.”

  She blew across my knuckles, and my hand clenched around hers.

  “Was I too rough with you?” I asked.

  “No. I like it rough and hard with you. And slow and soft. But not when you’re trying to destroy the baggage I bring with me with your oh-so-mighty dick.” A half smirk wedged the dimple into her cheek.

  “I don’t have issues with you.” I reached up to kiss her, a mere brush of lips, nothing more. “I just need to know you. And I don’t care about the baggage. Hell, you’ve seen mine, right?”

  Jesus, we were so messed up.

  Cat slid off me to snuggle against my side. “Sex is the easiest answer between us, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe we should just date and stop fucking for a while.”

  Because that’s gonna happen.

  “Maybe you’d let me make love to you instead?” My heart took a trip up into my throat, choking my words.

  She turned toward me. “You don’t have to ask.”

  “Yes, I do.” I kissed her neck then whispered across her lips. “You’re the type of woman who deserves to be asked.”

  “God, Nicky. Sometimes you can be such a roughneck and then you . . .”

  “I know. I’m an ass.”

  Tears glimmered in her eyes. “And then you care for me and ask me.” I kissed away the teardrops, making sure my own didn’t show. “Sometimes I want to be taken, too.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  My hands framed her face. “Just want to go to sleep?”

  The rustle of the condom wrapper was muted by the sound of her laugh, throaty as the full throttle of her Harley. “No. I want you to make love to me.”

  Her laughter ended on high note when I pressed inside.

  Our gazes held steady even while our hearts pounded. Our hands linked beside her head. I went deep and slow and never lost sight of her. She broke apart in a sensual rhythm I’d never felt before. Her orgasm shot me to the bright blue heavens held within her eyes. I came just after she did, holding her to me, trying to whisper her name.

  Afterward I panted against her lips, “I just need you to let me know all of you, Cat.”

  She shivered against me. “I’m trying.” Her fingers clamped onto my back, bringing me as close as possible. “Don’t let me go. Please don’t let me go.”

  A howling cry came out of her. I rocked her slowly, not knowing wha
t other demons had tried to chase her beautiful spirit away. “I swear to God, I won’t.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The End and the Beginning

  ON SUNDAY MORNING, I woke before first light. I left the warm bed and the lush feel of Cat sleeping next to me. I grabbed a quick shower and shave. When I tiptoed from the bedroom, I almost tripped over a too-perky Viper outside the door. She bounded after me down the stairs and into the kitchen. She slobbered all over my face for a couple minutes then gobbled her breakfast kibble while I started the coffee.

  As soon as I opened the door to the deck, Viper bolted outside, a streak of brown fur and muscle. She woofed around the backyard. She dipped her paws into the icy froth of the river and whimpered away. I followed more slowly. The morning started out with one of those eerie, cold misty fogs clinging to the air like molecules of tears. Tree branches hung in stark black relief against the grayish backdrop. I was up early, too early.

  I was always up pre-dawn on the twenty fourth of November. This time I intended to do something about it.

  Once Viper worked through her so happy, my person’s awake—ooh, look, squirrel—woof-woof canine-ADHD dance around the yard, we went back inside. I nudged up the thermostat. I started for the stairs. Viper clacked behind me.

  “Stay,” I told her.

  She looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. Then she glared at me, giving almost as good as Cat. Maybe Cat had been giving the dog some lessons. Finally Viper made do with sitting watchdog-style at the bottom of the steps.

  Upstairs I crouched beside the bed. Sliding my hand under Cat’s black hair, I tunneled against her warm neck. Ice blue eyes dusted with sleep slowly blinked at me.

  I kissed her lips softly and stayed close. “Come for a drive with me?”

  “Mmm.” She stretched out her legs and lifted her arms above her head. The blankets slipped from her shoulders. “Where to?”

  “It’s the date of my brother’s death.” My voice cracked a little. “I, uh, I never did anything for him before, to remember him. I just thought—”