Far Cry: A Talbott’s Cove Novel

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Far Cry: A Talbott’s Cove Novel Page 4

by Canterbary, Kate


  I glanced between us and grinned at the hard bulge trapped behind his fly. "I'm pretty sure I am." I reached up, traced the lines of the octopus strangling his arm. "Here's what's going to happen, Jed. You're going to take me to a room with a bed. Once we get there, you're going to drop these jeans and I'll do the same. When I'm satisfied with the condom situation, you'll fuck me." I smiled up at him. "I prefer to be on top, so that's how we'll do it."

  "Yeah. All right. You'll get what you want, sweetheart." A smirk tugged up his lips. "This time."

  I blinked. "Excuse you?"

  "This way." He squeezed my waist and nudged me backward. When I didn't move, he said, "I don't have all night and like I said, I'm not playing around with you."

  "And I told you this isn't a game." He stared at me, his hazel eyes cool and his expression stony. "It's up to you whether you believe me."

  I turned with the intention of marching myself down the hall and making him appreciate all the amazing things these jeans did for my ass, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed his chest to my back within two steps.

  "You're a lot of work," he murmured, his lips on my neck. "An awful lot of work."

  "And you love it."

  "Not how I'd describe it."

  JJ reached for the light switch when we stepped into his room, but I batted his hand away. It was as if he'd never done this before. "No. No lights, thank you. We don't need them."

  "So much work."

  He flipped open my button fly and yanked my jeans and underwear down my hips. "That was also unnecessary," I said, righting my panties. "These will stay."

  His fingers traced the underwire of my bra while he kissed my neck just like he had at the tavern. It was rude, the way his lips and teeth pulled at my skin. Just…rude. Like it belonged to him and he was well within his rights to bite me simply because it pleased him.

  "I don't know what you're used to, sweetheart, but I'm gonna need these off if you want me to fuck you."

  "No, you don't. I'll pull them to the side," I answered. "That's all you need."

  He barked out a laugh. "You have no fuckin' idea what I need."

  If I tried to explain to someone the lengths and hurdles I was going through to get laid, they wouldn't believe me. They'd insist I was exaggerating because there was no one alive who'd prefer to argue about whatever-the-fuck while my shirt was off and I flat-out demanded sex rather than get his cock out. Apparently, I'd stumbled upon the exception to every rule.

  "Then take your fucking pants off and show me." I shoved out of his arms and ripped off my jeans. They landed on the other side of the room, one leg snared on a lamp, but neither of us moved to right them. I climbed to the bed and kneeled in the center, hoping to hell he didn't notice that every inch of me was dotted with goose bumps and I was shaking like a virginal leaf. I couldn't explain either reaction, but I knew I needed him to help me fix it right now. "Come on, Jed. Show me what you need."

  He stared at me for a moment that stretched long enough to make me wonder whether I'd completely miscalculated, but then he glanced down at his belt. Mumbling to himself, he loosened the buckle, lowered his zipper. He closed his fists around either side of the open placket, pausing and shaking his head before pushing his clothes to the floor.

  I knew good dick when I saw it and that was it. The shaking, the goose bumps, they only intensified.

  "On top?" JJ produced a condom from a nightstand drawer and ripped it open. "You're sure about that?"

  I didn't respond until he'd rolled the condom down his length. "Very sure."

  A noise sounded in his throat, like a husky hiss or a growl. "Brooke."

  I couldn't stop staring at his cock. I hadn't looked away since it'd appeared. "Mmhmm?"

  "Close your mouth, sweetheart, unless that's where you want me putting this."

  I glanced up as he joined me on the bed. "Could you talk less? Your cock looks bigger when you're quiet."

  JJ twisted his fingers around the side of my panties and jerked me down into his lap. I landed with his face in my cleavage and his other hand on my ass. He closed his teeth around the side of my breast, bit down hard enough to soak my panties. A moan slipped past my lips and a tremor moved down my spine as he rocked against my core.

  "If you wanted a taste of my tits, you could've asked."

  Another bite, another growl. "Are you taking this bra off? It tastes like fabric softener."

  I braced my hands on his shoulders and straddled his lap. I shook my head. "Can't see why I should."

  "How about the fact I've barely touched you and there's a decent chance you came from that alone." He drew his index finger along the leg of my panties, slowing to drag his thumb through the wet. "Push these out of the way or whatever the hell you're doing."

  I kept one hand on his shoulder and my gaze on his face while I edged my panties to the side. "I sincerely hope you know how to use that thing."

  As he thrust inside me and ripped a gasp from my lips, he met my gaze with a smug grin. I would've told him where to shove that grin, but I was stuffed speechless. There was so much dick inside me, I wasn't certain I could properly inhale. I flattened both hands on his chest to hold myself still while I adjusted to him. It was a sharp, stinging reminder that sex toys weren't the same as the real thing. They just weren't.

  "What'd I tell you about closing that mouth, sweetheart?"

  At least sex toys didn't have an obnoxious comment for everything.

  "If you think your dick is getting anywhere near my mouth, we need to get you medical attention because you're suffering from delusions." I rocked forward and back several times as I tried to find a rhythm that didn't feel like it would end with a broken vagina. "Just be quiet and let me get comfortable. I need a minute. Okay?"

  All I'd wanted was to resurrect my orgasm and look what it got me. If I was going to crack my vagina in half, I would've thought it'd happen with one of the vibrators that didn't concern itself with anatomical correctness, not the mouthy barkeep.

  "Yeah. Okay." JJ tucked my hair behind my ears and held my face in his hands. "There's no rush, Brooke."

  He ran his hands down my spine, moving his fingers in slow circles. It helped. I didn't know how, but it did. As the seconds ticked by, he started rolling his hips in tiny waves that matched the soothing pressure on my back. With each rise and fall, my body relaxed—and tightened.

  "That's good, that's good." I dragged my tongue over my lips as I sank all the way down on his cock and moved with him. "Yeah, good, that's—yes."

  He smiled up at me, nodding. "This is what you want?"

  I didn't answer. I was busy finding my way, learning his body. And answering while impaled on someone's rolling-pin cock usually meant showing some vulnerability. I wasn't here for that.

  "Brooke." He closed his eyes, turned his head to the side. Murmured and moaned into the pillow. "Fuck, Brooke. What am I allowed to do?"

  This would've been better if we didn't talk. I wasn't here for that either. I needed to remind my body what sex was all about, realign my orgasm settings, and get back to my life. I would've been able to do all of that if JJ didn't insist on reminding me it was his dick I was riding.

  "What is it you want to know, Jed? And what kind of question is that?"

  He moved his hands from the small of my back and yanked my ass cheeks apart, forcing himself deeper inside me and ripping a gasp from my lips. This was officially more than I'd bargained for.

  "I want to know what I'm allowed to do," he gritted out as he dragged a pair of fingers to my clit. "Am I allowed to touch you here?" With his other hand, he brushed his knuckles down my backside. "What about here? Can I have this?"

  I stared down at him, blinking. His jaw was locked and the tendons in his neck pulled taut. Under my hands, his chest and shoulders felt like granite.

  He abandoned my ass to cup a breast. "What about here? Can I suck you, pinch you, bite you?"

  "You've already bitten me." It wasn't the clevere
st thing I'd ever said, but it was the only response I could manage.

  He started moving his hips faster. Harder. He held me like he didn't care if I broke. "And you seemed to enjoy it."

  "Enjoy seems like a strong endorsement," I replied. I shifted my hands to the mattress, not wanting to rely on him to stay steady. "More like a means to an end."

  JJ speared up and stayed buried inside me for a beat. A noise rattled out of me, some kind of gasp or cry. "Is that all you want?" His fingers circled my nipple and clit at the same time, and that cry kept breaking free. "An end?"

  "It would be preferable, yes."

  "And that's it? That's all you want?"

  I rolled my eyes as best I could when stuffed three ways to Sunday and going cross-eyed from the clit-and-nip program. "Yeah, Jed. That's all I want."

  He closed his fingers around my nipple, pinched hard. "And you usually get what you want."

  A laugh shot out of me. "It's nice to think that, but no." I almost continued, almost added that I hadn't gotten what I wanted in such a long time. But that kind of statement invited questions I wasn't interested in answering. Definitely not while his balls slapped my ass.

  "Then get what you need." He punctuated each word with a pinch. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Get it."

  I didn't comprehend his command at first, but then he brought his hands to my hips and shuttled my body over him. He wanted me to get what I needed—from him. "Keep doing that," I said, rocking against him. "Keeeeeep doing that."

  If I'd caught a look at myself in a mirror or window reflection, I was certain I'd hate the visual of him bouncing me on his dick and using me like a fuck doll, but I wasn't looking or caring. I was almost there, close close close, and I just needed a little—

  "Fuuuuck. Brooke. Say something. Anything."

  "This would be so much better if you didn't speak." I squeezed my eyes shut and held myself tight as the first bites of pleasure pricked at my cheeks, my lips, my shoulders. "Just shut the fuck up and fuck me."

  Thankfully, JJ did exactly that. He hammered into me with no more conversation than the occasional curse or growl. It was quiet and his cock was great and this was what I needed to reclaim my orgasm. I made the completely unnecessary announcement "I'm coming" while my body refused to do anything but bathe in those sensations.

  "I know, I know. You're right there," he murmured, his brows drawn tight and his forehead creased. "I can feel it, sweetheart. Keep going."

  But there was nowhere to go. It popped and fizzed and now, it was over. "Yeah, I don't think that's happening."

  Once again, he surged into me, his cock deep enough to nudge my vital organs out of place. This time he stayed there, his grip on my hips tight and his gaze burning my skin. "What do you mean by that, Bam Bam?"

  Without giving it much thought, I clenched around him. JJ tossed his head back on a chorus of my name and colorful variations of Fuck, and I did it again. That was when it happened. When I tripped his kill switch. He didn't thrash or scream, but he came like a train running a minute behind schedule, all raw power and steam and a flat-out refusal to let me get away with anything.

  But I was always getting away with something. Always playing. I couldn't do this unless I played a fuckton of pretend. Right now, I wasn't me and he wasn't him, and this was acceptable only under those circumstances. Except when he squeezed my waist, threw his head back, and released a mile-long breath as he pulsed inside me.

  When he finished, I pushed up from his chest. His hands fell away from my hips and I crawled out of his lap. "Since this is finished, I should go now," I said. "As you've mentioned repeatedly, you don't have much time tonight."

  "That's what you wanted?" He eyed me as if he didn't expect the truth. I wasn't convinced he'd earned the right to the truth. It wasn't something I shared often. "That's it?"

  I turned in a circle but didn't see my sweater anywhere. I couldn't remember where I'd left it. "Yeah. This was good."

  He balled the condom in a tissue, shot it into the waste basket. "Good?"

  "That's what I said." And that was honest. It was good sex. The dick was well above average and the conversation was abysmal, and when factoring in the overall mechanics, it came out to an overall positive event. There was an entire corporate belief system about good being the enemy of great, but that kind of touchy-feely-organizational-behavior bullshit didn't hold much water with me.

  "I don't believe you." He laced his fingers behind his head and pulled that smug grin again. "I don't think that was what you wanted and I don't think it was good for you."

  I knelt down to grab one of my shoes from under the bed. When I stood, I said, "It was fine, but thanks for making this weird in the comments section."

  "I'm not making it weird," he replied with a brisk shake of his head.

  I gathered my jeans from the lamp and clutched them in my arms. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of watching me shimmy into slim-cut jeans while he lay there with his dick lengthening on his belly like a damn periscope. Men were the worst. Thank god I wasn't going to need one again for another two years.

  "Then what the hell are you doing, Jed? Because it seems like you're telling me I'm bad in bed and that's strange because I know you enjoyed it just fine. It's also extremely rude, but that's your usual." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and snagged me around the waist, but I stepped out of his reach. I wasn't doing that again. "Thank you, no. I'm going to find my sweater and go home, and we're never talking about this night ever again."

  "Brooke." He pushed off the bed. As much as I wanted to erase these events from memory, the heaviness in his tone rooted me in place. He stopped behind me, his hands settling on my hips. His cock tapped the small of my back. "I'm not telling you you're bad in bed."

  "Then what are you telling me?"

  He plucked my jeans and shoes from my arms, tossed them to the floor. "You had it your way," he said, his beard scraping my shoulder as he spoke to my skin. "Now, it's my turn."

  Chapter Five

  JJ

  Elasticity: a measurement of shifts in demand for a product correspondent to price shifts.

  If I was going to ruin my life, there was no sense in half-assing it.

  To be sure, I was ruining my life. Even as I kept telling myself this was a one-and-done situation, having sex with Brooke was suicide. I'd never come back from this. Never shake it off. And not because she was a spectacular lay—she was—but because she'd never let me forget how I bent to her will and gave her everything she wanted, even when I knew it was a goddamn mistake.

  "Now it's my turn." I dragged my hand up her spine, stopping between her shoulder blades. I stroked her alabaster skin for a second before shoving her facedown onto the bed.

  She went with an indignant shriek and, "You better watch yourself, Jed."

  I climbed over her and straddled her thighs. Front row seat to the best ass in the state and my complete downfall. "Let me ask you this one more time, Brooke. What am I allowed to do?"

  She huffed out the sigh of a woman who'd never been thrown on a bed and didn't want to admit she liked it.

  "You're allowed to get the fuck off me," she replied.

  I filled my hands with her ass cheeks, kneading and squeezing and separating while Brooke shot her most vicious scowl at me over her shoulder. "For such a mouthy, bratty woman, you're shit at asking for what you want."

  "I just asked you to get off me."

  I moved my hand between her thighs, but I waited, drawing circles on her leg with my thumb. I waited while her pale, narrow shoulders loosened and a breath whooshed out of her. Waited until she glanced at me from under that long curtain of platinum hair and those pale lashes, and tipped her stubborn chin up in the tiniest unspoken yes I'd ever heard.

  So, this is how it's going to be.

  Finally, I cupped her the way I'd wanted all night. The black panties she insisted on wearing were warm and wet. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth when I brushed her clit o
ver the fabric. "It's not that hard, sweetheart. You tell me what you want, I give it to you."

  "Haven't I told you to shut up? You're the most conversational dick appointment I've ever had," she hissed. "It's a tragedy I don't carry ball gags with me anymore."

  I gave her cheeks a harsh squeeze. It took real restraint to keep from tearing off those panties, leaning forward, and licking her. Just to know, once and for all, how Brooke Markham's ass tasted. "Maybe if you answered my fucking questions the first time I asked them, you could get the dick you came for."

  "I distinctly recall you telling me you didn't want to have sex with me twice."

  "You should take your own advice and shut up." I slipped my fingers under the fabric, inside her. We groaned at the same time. She fisted the bed linens, buried her face in the blankets. Worked damn hard at denying herself as she moved against my hand like she was made for it. "Fucking hell, Brooke. Let me take these goddamn panties off you."

  She was panting as she found a rhythm on my fingers. Watching her like this—with my cock hard on the back of her leg and my hand between her thighs and her body writhing on my bed—made it easy to ignore the consequences. The price I'd pay for this.

  "Fine," she snapped. "But don't you dare ruin them."

  I hooked my free hand around the waistband, edged it down. "How could I ruin your precious underwear?"

  "You're approximately two hundred and fifty pounds of lumberjack man," she answered. "I wouldn't put it past you to ruin some fine lingerie."

  I couldn't identify anything fine about these panties beyond the delicate script lettering on the waistband reading Agent Provocateur. Shifting to my knees, I dragged the overpriced scrap of fabric down her thighs. Once it was free, I chucked it over my shoulder. Fuck her fine lingerie.

  Slipping my fingers under the band of her bra, I said, "This too."

  "This," she muttered, "is hand-sewn lace imported from France. Handle with care."

  I flung that French lace clear across the room. I ran my hands up the back of her thighs, now well and truly obsessed with licking this woman. "I'm going to ask you one more time—"

 

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