by Celia Loren
The man stood, and Addison saw that he was carrying a long silver knife in his right hand. She tried to scream, but no sound would come out of her mouth, and her feet were rooted firmly to the spot. She cowered against the crib as the man slowly walked toward her, raising the knife. He plunged it down into her, again and again, and she felt the cold metal slice through her skin and hit bone.
She woke up with a gasp, the wound on her thigh aching. She felt like she had only been asleep for a minute, but morning light was shining through the bedroom windows. The bedroom door was slightly open, and she saw Cutler’s worried face quickly appear in the gap.
“I thought I heard something,” he said as he hurried in and sat next to her, tucking her hair behind her ears, away from the sweat that dripped down her forehead. “You OK?”
“Yeah, I just had a nightmare,” she said, closing her eyes and enjoying the touch of his hand on her face.
“You’re safe now,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, I think I sweated through these sheets,” Addison responded as she felt the damp cloth around her. “God, is that me?” she asked, horrified to realize that she smelled a little ripe. Cutler grinned.
“Hey, I normally spend all day in a biker clubhouse. I’ve smelled far worse.”
“Oh, god,” Addison said, blushing.
“Why don’t you take another pill and I’ll wipe you down,” Cutler suggested as he hurried into the living room for the pill bottle from Greta.
“Wipe me down?” Addison called after him, alarmed even as she felt a warm tingle rush through her body.
“Well, you can’t very well take a shower,” he said as he reentered, leaving the door open. “Don’t worry, they all left last night after you fell asleep.”
“I just…I don’t know,” Addison stammered, as Cutler readjusted her pillows and raised her to a seated position.
“I’ve seen you naked, you know,” Cutler said, with an arrogant glint in his eye. He tossed a pill into his hand and held it up to Addison’s mouth. She leaned over and took it from him with her mouth, her lips brushing against his palm. She watched as his lips parted slightly, and she swallowed the pill with water.
“Yes, I seem to remember that. But this is different.”
“How?” Cutler asked as he walked out of the bedroom. Addison heard him rummaging around in the kitchen, and he returned with a hand towel and a mixing bowl of warm water.
“It just is,” Addison protested as he reentered. “Well, you are just full steam ahead here.”
“I thought you were cured of your prudish tendencies,” Cutler said with a sly smile as he set the bowl on the bed and dipped the towel into it.
“Fine,” Addison sighed. Though she had to admit she was enjoying the way he was taking care of her. She slowly pulled the sheet to the side, exposing her body.
She shivered involuntarily as Cutler looked at her, though she could tell he was trying his best to play the part of the nurse. He cleared his throat, then knelt next to her. Taking her right arm, he gently ran the towel down it. Addison closed her eyes with a grin on her face.
“What?” Cutler asked, as he ran the cloth down her other arm, carefully cleaning around her bandages.
“I was just thinking that you have hand-washed me twice already in the short time we’ve known each other.”
“That’s true,” Cutler said, and Addison could hear his smile even though her eyes were closed. He gently swept the cloth over her face, and she felt the warm water cleaning away her salty sweat. He moved over her breasts and down her legs, again cleaning around her leg wound but avoiding the bandages themselves.
“I’m going to turn you over,” he said, as he replaced the towel in the bowl and stood up.
“I can do it,” Addison said, as she carefully leaned over and flipped onto her stomach. She only felt a slight twinge on her shoulder. She looked up to see Cutler frowning at her. “I’m not so helpless,” she said.
“Now you tell me. Should I just toss you in the shower?” Cutler asked wryly.
“Oh, no. Now I’m enjoying this,” Addison responded, smiling.
Cutler squeezed the excess water out of the towel and ran it down the back of her right legs, over her feet, and to her surprise, began cleaning her feet. Addison burst out in a fit of giggles.
“Stop! Stop! That tickles!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your feet are just filthy. I’m afraid they need a good washing,” Cutler said matter-of-factly as he ignored her squirming. Addison buried her head in the pillow, trying to stifle her giggles. He moved to her left foot and she burst out laughing again. God, she couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like this.
Cutler moved up her leg, and she stilled as he ran the towel over her butt cheeks, then moved onto her back, gently rubbing it down. The atmosphere in the room suddenly felt different, and Addison studied him out of the corner of her eye.
He was wearing the same old jeans and white v-neck t-shirt he’d been wearing the night before. He looked so good, and Addison realized how much she wanted him despite her current condition. She reached out her left hand, and slipped her hand between his legs, rubbing his right leg. She heard his breath hitch.
“Addison…” Cutler said, a low growl in his throat.
“Hm?” She responded innocently. She continued to rub his thigh; and moved her hand up a little toward his crotch.
“I don’t think you’re in any condition right now, and it would just be cruel of you to get me started like this.”
“Let me assure you that I am feeling no pain right now,” Addison said, as she slipped her hand up over his fly, and felt his erection grow into her hand as she stroked him.
Cutler groaned, and stopped the movement of the towel on her back. He stilled, as his body lit up in response to Addison’s touch. She ran her finger up and hooked it over the top of his pants, running it back and forth across his stomach, feeling his happy trail bristle. She deftly unbuttoned his jeans and Cutler bit his lip. She slowly unzipped his jeans.
“You sure about this?” Cutler was breathing hard. Addison smiled up at him.
“Still think I’m a prude?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.
“You are definitely not a prude,” Cutler said, his eyes darkening with lust.
Addison pulled on one side of his jeans then the other, shimmying them down his legs. His erection was poking out the top of his boxer-briefs, and she ran her fingertips lightly over it, feeling him gasp in response. She ran her fingers down the length of him, feeling him harden further. She playfully squeezed and tugged on his balls, keeping her eyes on his face the whole time. She watched as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, lost in the sensation. She took a firmer grip on his cock, rubbing him up and down over his underwear, and Cutler groaned in response. She felt him involuntarily squeeze the cloth he was still holding, and it dripped over her back and down onto the sheets.
She moved her hand to the side of his briefs and slowly tugged them down. It was tough to maneuver with just one hand, and her less dominant one at that. She finally passed the widest point of his thigh and his briefs fell to the ground. His erection was now freed, and just about eye level to her lying on the bed. She gently ran her fingertips over his tip, circling it, and admiring him. He exhaled slowly, blowing the air out of his mouth.
She moved her hand to the base of his penis, and gripped it gently, then ran her hand up and down its length. Cutler groaned again, lower in his throat. She began twisting her hand as she moved it, and moving slightly faster.
“Addison,” Cutler whispered, enunciating her name slowly and gently, as though he were relishing each syllable as it crossed his lips. Addison felt her whole body respond to his voice, and her name in his mouth. She was already ready for him.
He straightened up, and Addison dropped her hand. He moved the damp towel into the bowl on the bedside table. She bit her lip in anticipation. What was he going to do?
He walked around to the other si
de of the bed, and Addison turned her head so that she could watch him. He got onto the bed and lay next to her, his eyes running up and down her body. He propped himself up on his right elbow and reached over with his left to tuck her hair behind her ear. He gently trailed his fingers down her neck and across her back, his eyes never leaving her face.
When he got to her ass, he spread his hand over it and massaged it. Addison closed her eyes and moaned quietly. He moved his fingers between her cheeks and down over her sex. Addison gasped. He gently pulled her right leg over so that her legs were spread farther apart, then ran his hand back up and through her lips. Addison cried out as he touched her, moving his fingers deftly to her clitoris and circling around. He leaned over to her ear and kissed her softly, then ran his teeth over her lobe.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he breathed into her ear, eliciting another moan from her. He slipped his thumb inside her, moving it in and out as he circled her clit. Addison felt an orgasm building inside her already as her energy concentrated around his hand, feeling every slight movement he made. Cutler sped up his movements, and Addison exploded around his hand, coming in waves over him.
“Oh, Cutler,” she moaned, as he gently caressed her.
“I love watching you come,” he whispered in her ear. Addison could only moan in response. “You have to tell me if anything I do is too much, OK?” She nodded slowly in response. Her brain felt cloudy with the rush of pleasure he had just elicited from her. She vaguely heard him fish around in the bedside table and rip open a condom.
He climbed slowly over her right leg, then picked up her left leg gently and moved it over further. He sank down gently over her, and she felt his erection press against her ass. He pulled her hair over to one side of her face, leaving her back clear. He trailed kisses down her spine, and she shivered. She felt him move his cock down to her sex, grazing her between her cheeks. She was so ready for him, aching for his fullness.
She gasped as he entered her, slowly and deliciously filling her up. She heard him moan into her ear. He was careful to not put any pressure on the rest of her body, supporting himself on his arms on either side of her. He pressed himself fully into her and then withdrew.
“Please, Cutler, please,” she whispered.
He pressed into her again, then circled his hips. She felt him moving deep inside of her and groaned. He stopped circling and pulled back slowly, then thrust in again.
“Ah,” he murmured as he pushed into her again and again. Addison felt the pleasure building up inside her again. He was thrusting faster, and the feel of him was exquisite.
“Oh, Cutler,” she moaned as she came, and as she tightened around him, he came with her, pouring himself into her.
He rolled off of her more abruptly than she would have liked, but she knew that he didn’t want to aggravate her injuries. She heard him walk into the bathroom to toss the condom and then return. She opened her eyes as he curled into bed next to her. Her eyes fluttered open as he brushed her cheek with soft kisses.
“You OK?” he asked, his eyes bright and concerned.
“More than OK,” she reassured him. She tilted her head up, inviting him to kiss her lips. He leaned down and kissed her deeply on the mouth.
“Breakfast?” he asked her. She nodded back, smiling.
He sprung up off the foot of the bed and came around to her side. He gently scooped her up as she giggled.
He gently set her down, and she stood up near the door as he fetched his Metallica t-shirt for her.
“I love seeing you in this,” he said as he pulled it gently over her head.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Marcus Devlin frowned as the rain spattered against his black umbrella and cold water began to soak into the tips of his black bespoke shoes. The weather and his son—the only two things in his life he seemed to be unable to control.
He turned his attention back to the priest, who was just finishing the end of his speech and crossing himself. Marcus crossed himself automatically. He was not religious, but a religious funeral looked good for his businesses, made him look pious. He watched as Owen’s coffin was lowered into the earth.
The news of his son’s death had reached him two days ago. The shock he'd felt had turned quickly into anger. Owen was his only child, his heir. It was too late for him now to have any other children. He knew he had always been hard on him, but he had high expectations for the one who would carry on his family name. And now his family’s future was ruined. Robbed from him.
The ceremony ended, mourners began filing up to him, shaking his hand and murmuring condolences. Most of them were family friends, investors, people who hadn’t seen Owen in years, or people who were only remotely connected to the family but wanted to be able to say they had been to the Devlin boy’s funeral. He hadn’t noticed any of Owen’s high school or college friends in attendance, he thought as he methodically shook everyone’s hand and returned their platitudes with a solemn nod.
Owen had always been a strange boy, he supposed. He had often wished he'd been more like Viktor, whom he had thought he could trust with the most delicate task, knowing he would complete it cleanly and efficiently. As a small, skinny boy, Viktor had followed Marcus around like a shadow, absorbing everything he saw with his dark eyes. Owen had been his polar opposite, running around wildly, never in control of himself. In some ways, he supposed he had favored Viktor.
Until two days ago, when he found out that Viktor had led the operation that had led to his only son’s death. He had Viktor’s body chopped up into small pieces and tossed into the ocean to be feasted on by seagulls and fish. As fond as he’d been of Viktor, had admired and respected him, Owen was his blood.
The ceremony over, Marcus walked quickly back to his waiting SUV, flanked by his new bodyguard Alexei and his personal assistant Lyle. Alexei walked in front of him to open the rear door, and Marcus stepped in. Lyle crossed around the back to enter on the other side, and Alexei sat in front next to the driver.
Lyle glanced nervously at his boss, pushing his glasses back up his nose, slicked with the rain. Marcus was always a tempestuous man, but since Owen died he had been downright terrifying.
“What do we know?” Marcus asked, staring out of his window at the grey sky. There was a pause, and he looked up to see Alexei’s eyes flick toward Lyle in the rearview mirror.
“He’s fine,” Marcus said. He hated training new security. “Lyle knows everything about my business.”
Alexei nodded. “Viktor gave us word that Addison Delaney had hooked up with a biker gang called the Devil’s Reapers.”
“A biker gang? Christ, I thought Owen was going to marry this girl,” Marcus said, shaking his head.
“In particular, with one biker named Cutler Remes. We did a background search on him, and he was a suspect in several assaults and some drug deals, but nothing stuck. Looks like he cleaned up his act in the last couple years, but he’s certainly handy with a gun.”
“So these Devil’s Reapers are the ones who…” Marcus trailed off.
“Yes, we believe so, Sir.”
“I thought I paid for better security than that,” Marcus growled.
“Yes, Sir. I believe Viktor underestimated them, the lengths they would go to in getting the girl back. It seems they followed Viktor and your son to the warehouse where they were keeping the girl and overwhelmed them.”
“I make very few mistakes, Alexei. Prior to last week, the last mistake I made was in 2006, and it cost me fifty million dollars. And, of course, last week, I made the mistake of giving Viktor too much free rein, and it cost me my son. I won’t be making that same mistake again.”
“Sir,” Alexei responded as Marcus paused.
“I will be watching over this operation personally. How many men can we put on it?”
“Some of them are new, Sir, but all together we can bring together forty.”
“Forty. And how many are the Reapers?”
“Our estimates put them between fifteen and twe
nty, though it is impossible to say exactly.”
“I want no less than forty men on this, Alexei. I want every one of those Reapers dead, whatever you have to do. They took my only son away from me. Especially this Cutler person, and that girl. I’m reserving a special present for those two.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Addison nuzzled her nose into Cutler’s chest hair. The last couple days had been heaven. She had felt blissfully happy with him, playing house, cooking for each other, making love. The early morning sun cast soft shadows through the windows. She was up earlier than usual. She glanced at the clock; it was only 7:30 in the morning.
She tried to still herself, not wanting to wake Cutler up. She just felt happy to be alive, happy to be here with him. She knew she would have to get back to reality eventually, but she didn’t want to think about it. She’d felt so alive for the last few days, more so than she’d ever felt in her life. Cutler was waking up her whole person. The only worry she had was if he returned her affections, if he felt as strongly about her as she did about him.
She lay her head back gently on his chest, looking down his tight abdominal muscles down to his happy trail, which was half covered by the sheet. God, he looked good. She wanted to kiss him all over, but knew she should let him sleep. She knew how she felt about him, but it was hard to trust her own instincts after what she’d been through.
She shifted her legs impatiently, wishing he was awake. She felt a soreness deep inside her as she moved her legs. Cutler had introduced her to some rather exciting positions in the last couple days. She felt both wanton and cherished. Owen had always demanded that she idealize the lady-like expectations of a woman who came from means, casting aside any sexual instincts she had. But Cutler embraced both the lady and the whore inside her. She felt whole with him.
She gazed up at him, admiring his straight nose and impossibly dark eyelashes. His lips were so full, if only she could kiss them.