Explosive (The Black Opals)

by St. Claire, Tori

  Compounding her growing sense of panic, Jayce pushed her higher, until he captured one distended nipple between his lips. The shifting of her body caused his cock to stroke her deep inside, and pleasure flooded her awareness. She rocked her hips against Jayce’s, only to encounter the searing sweep of Brice’s tongue once more as it slid through the narrow crevice between her buttocks. Fighting to rise above a firestorm of ecstasy, Alyssa whimpered.

  As if Jayce instinctively understood what she craved—or perhaps what she most feared—he braced a foot on the floor and shifted their position. The sofa gave behind her as Brice eased to the floor. His calloused hands scraped delightfully over the back of her calves, her thighs. His mouth followed, making her squirm between one blissful torment, and that of the firm hard pulls Jayce dealt to her nipple.

  She trembled, knowing where Brice’s tongue would wander. When it did, when he eased into her tight rear channel, and that devilish tongue flicked, she let out a sharp cry. Too much—it was too damned much. Jayce filling her up, his beautiful eyes dragging up intimate secrets, and the sheer pleasure of Brice’s mouth were going to crack her into pieces. Alyssa pushed against Jayce, desperate for air.

  Instead, his arms came around her. He drew her gently into his embrace, gave her the faint promise of safety in his arms. “Easy, baby,” he whispered roughly. “Don’t fight it. We won’t hurt you.”

  And for a moment, she believed. Jayce Honeycutt had never hurt her, and Brice wouldn’t push her further than she could go. She drew a long, deep breath of air, and closed her eyes, allowing her body the freedom to enjoy the pleasure these two men wove around her. She rolled her hips against the thrust of Brice’s tongue. Lifted up on Jayce’s hard cock, then eased back down to take him fully again.

  When she braved looking at him again, a smile pulled across his sensual mouth. He slid his hands down her sides, fitted them at her waist, and guided her body into motion. Slowly, he withdrew. Slower still, he possessed her again.

  Behind her, Brice timed his thrusts with Jayce’s steady, easy cadence. Delving deep when Jayce retreated, pulling back as Jayce filled her up. Just as he had last night, only now, the flick of his tongue added another layer of ecstatic torment.

  Yet it wasn’t enough. She needed more. The burn of pleasure, the frightening height she was oh so terrified to climb but craved all the same. And she missed Jayce’s words, the raw honesty of his need for her that haunted her dreams.

  But those she would never hear again. He kept them locked behind tight lips, and she sensed he would never release them with someone else involved in their love play.

  As a wave of sorrow swept through her, Brice eased away. His large palm curved around one buttock, and she felt the warmth of his body brush against the backs of her thighs. Against the tight wet flesh he’d abandoned, she felt the press of his cock.

  Instinct drove her to latch onto Jayce’s gaze. To hold onto him in whatever fashion she could as sensation splintered her apart.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” Brice murmured. “Relax against me.”

  “I… can’t.” No, she was too close, too on the edge. Jayce thrust in deeply, sparking stars behind her eyes, and she shook her head. If she let Brice possess her, what little hold she held over her world would snap in half.

  “Alyssa, let go.” The subtle command in Brice’s voice spoke of releasing far more than her arousal. She knew what he meant, but could she? Could she orgasm looking down at Jayce? Could she survive watching the ecstasy that filled his features as he came? With nothing between them?

  Brice leaned into her, the wide head of his cock spreading her tight entrance as Jayce eased himself against her very core. Heat blistered over her skin. Her body convulsed with a suffocating wave of pleasure.

  “Baby,” Jayce whispered. “Look at me.”

  She couldn’t stop herself—her eyes lifted to his. Those fathomless dark depths held her prisoner as he withdrew in one never-ending stroke and Brice pressed more deeply inside her rear. Her breath caught. Fear slid away. Sensation blanketed her, lifting her up, up, up to that high plateau that somehow didn’t seem so terrifying with Jayce beneath her, waiting to catch her as she fell.

  There was no slow build up of ecstasy. It crashed around her like a torrential rain, pelting beneath her skin until she could take no more. Alyssa let out a strangled cry and rapture stole through her. She floated. Dizzy. Numb. Lost to sensation. Dimly she heard her name tear hoarsely off Brice’s lips. Deep within her, she felt the pulse of Jayce’s cock as he spilled himself.

  Then, she collapsed against his broad chest, shaking from the enormity of it all. Limp and exhausted, she felt Brice’s warmth leave her. Heard the rustle of his clothes as he dressed. Jayce’s fingertips traced the ridge of her spine, his uneven breathing filled her ears. It filled her heart too, for in that moment, she realized she still wanted forever with this man.

  Yet, forever was lost to her. To have it meant confessing things she couldn’t bring herself to speak of. It meant reliving a nightmare that brought physical pain and more sorrow than she knew how to cope with. Worse than the nightmares was the shame. The horrific, insurmountable shame of confessing she couldn’t stop three men from brutally attacking and raping her, and causing the death of their child at the high school party Jayce had asked her not to attend.

  She blocked the rise of suffocating emotion, rubbed her cheek across his chest, and let exhaustion seep into her awareness. As she drifted off, she felt Jayce twitch beneath her. A smile drifted to her lips. They were still connected. Just like they had been the last time she fell asleep in his arms.

  N i n e t e e n

  Darkness saturated the living room when Alyssa startled awake. She glanced around her, taking in her surroundings, reassuring herself she wasn’t amid trees and no one waited in the shadows. When she recognized the shape of the television and the chairs, and the feel of a warm hard body beneath her, she puffed out a relieved breath.

  Jayce held her loosely, still fast asleep on the couch. Judging by the lack of daylight and the dull gnawing in her belly, she guessed Brice had chosen to let them sleep through dinner. If he’d even cooked. He might have slipped out for the night.

  She rested her head back on Jayce’s pectoral and gave in to a few moments of languid contentment. He was so warm. So hard in all the right places. So achingly comfortable. He must have been as exhausted as she was—she couldn’t remember him ever indulging in a mid-afternoon nap.

  Though granted, the number of times she’d been allowed hours of his company had come few and far between. Most of the time, they had one or two at most before she had to sneak back home to the parents who wouldn’t hesitate to charge the no-good-loser from the poor side of town with statutory rape. A frown pulled at her brow. She’d almost be glad to tell her hateful parents Jayce had made something of himself. But she hadn’t spoken to either her mother or her father since they sent her away to get over it with her aunt in New Mexico.

  So many things had changed.

  With a short sigh, Alyssa dragged herself out of Jayce’s embrace. As she sat on the edge of the couch, her palms flattened over her belly, and she lowered her gaze to her spread fingertips. So many things she couldn’t think about without falling apart. It had taken two years to recover the first time.

  Pushing the memories aside, she rose to her feet and collected her jeans. She needed to shower. Then she’d decide whether to wake Jayce and throw something together for dinner, or let him sleep undisturbed.

  As she wandered down the hall, she passed Brice’s bedroom. His door stood ajar, the lights off within. Soft snores carried into the hall. A chuckle escaped. Evidently they were all exhausted. What time was it anyway? She nudged the door open far enough she glimpsed the clock and did a double-take. Ten? Good Lord! It had been just shy of three the last time she checked the time. She really had been dead to the world.

  And judging from the weighty feel of her arms and legs, she could benefit from another few hours
of sleep. Wow. Who’d have thought sex could take so much out of her?

  Bemused, Alyssa let herself into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she stepped beneath the steamy spray, she hesitated, certain she’d heard a trash can topple outside the window. But as she strained to hear more, all that reached her ears was the sound of crickets.

  Must be a coon. Brice had mentioned he’d seen one of the little devils last week. Tomorrow, she’d make sure they put the fasteners back on the trash cans. The last time a raccoon took up residence in their yard, they’d had to track down trash all over the neighborhood before they figured out how to keep the bugger out of the can. Her neighbors hadn’t been too pleased, needless to say.

  Shrugging the clatter off, she ducked under the hot water and closed her eyes to the pelting drops. This was almost as good as sex, only not so fulfilling. And the whole getting out and freezing pretty much sucked. Come to think of it, so did extracting herself from Jayce’s arms.

  She frowned, not at all pleased by the direction of her thoughts. She had no business getting attached to Jayce. After all, she’d said it herself—all she wanted was to enjoy him for a little while. Attachment didn’t align with that plan. And then there was the matter of Brice. Though he knew her unrequited feelings for Jayce, it felt somehow wrong to not feel the same regret when she left his side. Shouldn’t she long for him, in some small way as well? Didn’t he deserve that much from her after all he’d given over the years?

  Alyssa quickly washed and stepped out into the cooler night air. She snapped a towel off the bar beside the window and wrapped it around her body, before venturing into the hall once more. Brice still snored on. In the living room, Jayce lay motionless on the couch. For a moment, she stopped to simply watch him. He looked so peaceful this way, all traces of his earlier anger removed from his handsome face. So handsome—time had been more than kind to him. He must have put on fifty pounds or so, and all of it solid muscle. He’d been built well back then, but now those hard cords were more defined, sharper in a dangerous kind of way that fit his devil-may-care background.

  Still beautiful beyond words.

  He moved a leg and murmured something quiet and unintelligible in his sleep. Smiling, she ventured to the couch and pulled the light coverlet off the back to drape it carefully over his naked body. She couldn’t stand the thought of waking him when he looked so content. Nor could she stomach the idea of lying back down beside him, when just looking at him made her belly flip-flop wildly and had her heart considering fantasies she didn’t dare entertain.

  She brushed a kiss to his forehead and headed up the stairs. Inside her room, the moonlight streamed in, making it unnecessary to turn on a light. She dropped her towel at the foot of her bed and tugged on a comfortable old T-shirt and a pair of shorts, then crawled into bed. Lying in the quiet, she stared at the ceiling.

  Where did they go from here? If they continued on like this for however long Jayce was in town, he’d destroy her. Let alone the damage it might do to her comfortable relationship with Brice, she’d be forced to deal with the past. Jayce wasn’t the kind of man to give up on what he wanted, and he’d made it clear he wanted answers. But she didn’t know how to turn him away, how to tell him to go in the morning and not come back.

  A dog barked outside, pulling Alyssa from her troubling thoughts. She glanced to the window, just as that deep rumbling warning abruptly terminated with a sharp yelp. Silence reigned.

  Chills broke over her skin. Her pulse skipped erratically.

  Determined not to let the ridiculous fear control her, she rolled onto her side and flipped on her clock-radio. Soft pop music filled the uncomfortable quiet. Alyssa closed her eyes. She could do this.

  The low, muffled sound of a man’s voice echoed beyond the window that overlooked the side yard.

  Alyssa bolted upright in bed. As her heartbeat skipped erratically, she cocked her head, straining to hear. It had to have been the radio. She was imagining things. She must be.

  But she’d heard noises last night and found a picture this morning. She hadn’t imagined them. Her heart knocked hard into her ribs, and her throat inched closed by several degrees. Fear swept over her, turning her skin cold and clammy.

  Beneath her window something heavy thumped distinctly.

  Oh, God.

  Alyssa fisted a hand into the sheets. A scream rose in her throat. She choked it down, disgusted with herself and forced her mind to focus on logic, not fantastic possibilities. Brice and Jayce were both downstairs. To get to her, someone had to go through them. And before she turned into a complete agoraphobic, she was hauling herself out of this bed and waking one of them up. As soon as she’d accomplished that, she’d phone the cops.

  I’m in control. Not the fear, damn it.

  Jayce would be easiest. Brice slept like the dead, and Jayce had never been a terribly deep sleeper. Just the first hour or so when he finally drifted off, and only then if he was extremely exhausted.

  With a shaking hand, she peeled back the covers and eased out of bed. A distinct cough nearly paralyzed her as she reached for the door. Right there. Outside, beneath her window. Someone is out there!

  A soft whimper bubbled free. She swallowed hard, squeezed her eyes shut, and jerked the door open. Two deep breaths gave her the courage to run down the stairs and into the living room, Jayce’s name on the tip of her tongue.

  She skidded to a halt as he turned from where he stood by the neighboring window. In the low light coming from the streetlamps, his gaze caught hers. Concern etched into the tight lines of his mouth. He lifted a finger to his mouth, indicating she should be quiet.

  Alyssa nodded. A strange feeling of safety descended around her despite the frenetic way her heart banged into her ribs. She folded her arms over her breasts and remained standing where she was, half in the living-room, half in the hall. Jayce moved like a cat stalking prey as he inched back into the shadows against the living room wall and edged closer to the window. As he lifted an arm to poke back a corner of her blinds, he turned his shoulders and his side became illuminated in the dim light.

  In his left hand, he held a gun.

  Alyssa’s eyes widened like saucers. Where the hell had he found a gun? She didn’t own any. As far as she knew, neither did Brice. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t have left it where Jayce could happen onto it.

  Jayce looked over his shoulder at her and motioned at the chair closest to him. Every ounce of hesitation she’d experienced upstairs slipped off her tense limbs, and Alyssa followed his quiet command. Authority and control radiated off his otherwise still form. Gave alluring strength to the defined lines of his face. She couldn’t explain the instinct, but at that moment, she’d have sworn he knew exactly what he was doing, and she’d have done whatever he asked.

  She eased into the chair. His free hand squeezed her shoulder before returning, once more, to poke at the blind.

  * * *

  Logic warred with reflex as Jayce squinted out the window. The damned dog barking had snatched him from the most relaxing sleep he could remember. When that canine call terminated in a yelp he recognized too well, his training kicked into action. The sound had been far enough away to buy him time. Ten years of covert operations and the best tactical training in three nations gave him the skill to slip outside and retrieve his gun without drawing attention. Survival urged him to wait outside. But out there, he couldn’t protect Alyssa. If they caught him by surprise, he’d do her no good bleeding-out in the alley behind her house.

  Right now, those same survival instincts ordered him to wait out the assholes traipsing through her side yard and let them gain confidence enough to enter the house. When they did, they’d have about three seconds before the wished they hadn’t. Then they better have made peace with their maker, or it would be a long damned trip to hell.

  Unfortunately, survival instincts didn’t always include anyone but himself. With Alyssa awake, even if she were seated as close to him as possible, he opened
her to danger. Better to scare these bastards off before things got out of control.

  Not to mention, if he opened fire on three men, he’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. To Alyssa. To the local PD. To Clarke.

  Yeah. Not what he wanted to deal with.

  He backed away from the window. He was banking on the fact that the three idiots outside, who wouldn’t know the meaning of quiet if someone opened a dictionary beneath their noses, would run the minute they suspected someone was awake. If that suspicion failed…Well, he’d play it by ear.

  Jayce clicked on a lamp. Light filled the room.

  “What are you doing?” Alyssa whispered.

  He held up his hand, listening to the abrupt stillness outside. Slowly, he counted. One. Two. Three. At five, a distant car engine roared to life. A smirk pulled at Jayce’s mouth. Fucking cowards.

  He checked his Sig and tucked it temporarily into the back of his jeans. “Scaring them off.” Easing down onto the edge of the couch, he leaned his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands between his knees. “You want to tell me what’s going on now?” It killed him to see the fear shining in her eyes, but he was certain she knew something.

  “I don’t know.”

  Jayce’s mouth firmed with a frown. “I really don’t want to go through this again.”

  “I don’t know, Jayce.” Her voice pitched treacherously toward the edge of panic, and she threw her hands in the air. “Parker was arrested. His attorney called me. He threatened me when I refused to cooperate in some concocted story that would get Parker off. I told him I’d turn him into the Bar. That’s all I know.”

  She launched herself from the chair and began to pace in front of the coffee table. Words tumbled free at an unchecked and escalating pace. “I don’t know what that picture meant. I haven’t done anything. But people are breaking into my home, hanging outside my window, and it started before yesterday, when Harold Bryer called me. I don’t know, Jayce.” She stopped, turned wide, begging eyes on him. Her voice cracked as she repeated, “I don’t know.”