Black and Blue (Chubby Chasers, Inc. Series Book 3)

by Angie M. Brashears

  I mean, really. GoodFellas, Gretch?

  All the usual Gretchen pomp and circumstance for nothing. Because we weren’t invited? Is that what this is about? I wonder if she’d be in such a feather duster if we’d been in the backseat.

  I don’t know, and I’m not gonna solve this mystery tonight. I texted Blue, she’ll text back. At least she’ll text me back. Gretchen keeps giving her the cold shoulder.

  So what’s wrong with a little Riley/Sasha bonding time? I haven’t had a night off in who knows how long. I deserve this. I lean back against the headboard and enjoy the sound of my busy bee working for his queen.

  This is different. I’d never been blindfolded before. Not the same as closing your eyes, that’s for sure. You know you could always open them. But when they’re closed for you…a little intimidating.

  Maybe he’s got some disfiguring scars—a motorcycle accident, perhaps? A survivor of something hot and fiery that baked his body, twisting it into a charred, mangled pile of flesh.

  No, I would’ve felt that. My roving hands have caressed every square inch of his body, no puckered, disfigured secrets hidden under baggy jeans and T-shirts. Just a big helping of man, steaming hot.

  Then why the need for this secrecy? All this cloak and dagger shit? Without even giving me a chance to pee or get a cold beverage, he’d been on me since the moment I walked through the door. Smiling as he tore my coat from my body, flinging it God knows where, before giving me the driest little peck of a kiss and spinning me pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey style!

  And to add insult to injury, used my new green scarf with the dainty orange slices on it to blindfold me.

  A huge grin breaks out at the memory. It’s too hard to try to play the injured party.

  Cause Riley’s got a secret.

  My knees bounce against the mattress, excitement building in the dark. This is all just for me. Let’s have a little fun, shall we?

  “Calling Tatted and Matted. Tatted and Matted to the main stage, please.” The nickname earns me a chuckle, low and rumbly, off to the right. I whip my head in his direction and smile wide.

  He smirks before resuming work. After a minute of two, he’s humming. And I’m amused to find it’s one from my playlist. One of my “girly turds.” Not butch enough to listen to on the back of his Harley, but that song’s got him a lot of action lately.

  Definitely one of mine. ‘SexyBack.’ Gotta love me some JT. Guess Riley does, too. I sing the chorus to the tune of his hums.

  Aww, he’s embarrassed! Clearing his throat in the corner!

  How cute. He wouldn’t be caught dead with that song on his playlist, but osmosis is a thing. I play it long enough, soon he knows all the words and is humming my song as he plans my ambush. Music osmosis. Happens to the best of them.

  Fun’s over. This isn’t the time to be shaming a hardworking man. It sounds like there’s a lot in store for me.

  My thighs clench in anticipation.

  I straighten my back and arch seductively. But he’s busy.

  It’s my own fault that I have to sit in time-out while Riley puts the finishing touches on. I was early by about an hour.

  But I expected the Javi reunion to last longer. In my mind, there was going to be a list of ground rules set for him, which we’d discuss over café con leche. There would be some talk about good touching versus bad touching, all civilized and proper. I would demand that he take it slow, if only to stay out of the nuthouse, but all thoughts of limit-setting had flown out of my mind when he had shown up with Blue in tow. Talking about going to get married. My mouth had been shocked shut.

  Then the looks of pure love they batted back and forth, well, there wasn’t much I could say. He’d been declared sane by the state of California, and she was smitten. Really head over heels. So, yeah, I wasn’t expecting the Javi reunion to turn into the Javi/Blue wedding announcement, but whatever. I don’t believe it.

  He’ll never go through with it, Blue’s not that easy to quit.

  To each their own crazy life. I just didn’t expect that Javi and Blue would be in and out so fast.

  I had told Riley I’d be over in the evening, then extra-time happened, so I got here early. If I’d have known I’d be blind in a corner for an hour, I might’ve stopped for a Frapp along the way.

  I hear the humming grow louder. There he is.

  But there’s another sound. Is that bells? Wedding bells? No, get a hold of yourself, Sash. Don’t move too fast or you’ll miss the view.

  Still, what in the frig is that sound? Silverware? No. I cock my head and turn my blind eyes to the sound. As if my eyes will absorb some of the sound. Not bells or silverware. Wind chimes? The sliding glass wall that overlooks the pond is open, but I think hard, really hard, and nope, don’t remember there being any wind chimes out back. Are there?

  As I’m concentrating all my Spidey senses on Riley’s backyard, it comes to me. That’s the tinkling of metal. Chink, chink!

  Chains! My cheeks flush, and my skin prickles.

  Then tingles, feels like a spider’s spinning its web right down my spine. Ohhh, so Riley wants to play with the big girl, does he?

  This must be the Whips and Chains Happy Hour at Riley’s. Lucky I got my claws filed down. I pick at my nails, touching the pointed ends to my fingertips. Sharp, not declawed yet. This kitty’s still got some points.

  I must have some kind of sexy leer on my face, ’cause Riley says, “Keep ’em closed, Sasha. No cheating.”

  I cover my eyes with both hands and giggle. Let him think I play dirty, then he won’t be surprised when I do.

  He’s near. His weight indents the mattress. I let the momentum roll me towards where he’s at. Just before I Humpty Dumpty over the edge, he’s got me. Hugging me to him.

  He smells like sunshine and lazy days at the beach, baking cocoa butter, with an undertone of grease and gears. Sue me, but I love the smell of my man after he works up a sweat.

  Here’s my chance. I turn my head to the side, rubbing my cheek all over him. Yummy. I’ve always gotta push it, and try to steal a kiss, leaning over into space. He grabs me and right’s this listing ship.

  “You gonna break your neck for a kiss, Red?”

  I fake a pout, which he takes as an invitation. His lips whisper over mine. Kissing the sides, before he sucks my bottom lip. “Gorgeous.”

  I open my mouth, wanting more as he’s turning my face away

  As he works on untying the knotted scarf, I don’t have the heart to tell him, he can just slide it over my head. I just wait, remembering the feel of his lips. Passionate. I rub the tips of my fingers over my lips, missing the feel of him already.

  Ever so gently, he moves the cascade of my red hair out of harm’s way, piling it all over one shoulder. Not a hair gets pulled as his strong hands work on the knot at the back of my head. When I feel the pressure of the scarf loosen, I give my head a shake to help the blindfold get off.

  But his hands stop me.

  While holding the scarf in place, he whispers into my ear. “I’m going to let the scarf go, Sash, but don’t even think about ruining my surprise. Keep your eyes closed. You’re gonna feel something drop in your lap. Don’t worry, it’s nothing wet.” Nervous laughter.

  Tee hee, hurry the fuck up. I smile and keep my shitty thoughts to myself, biting my mental tongue even harder. Not the time for snark. No, the time for games is over.

  The bed moves. It feels like half his weight is gone. Probably getting ready to run after the lap dump. “I’m putting something down now. You can touch it, feel its softness.” He leans close again, and says against my pursed lips, “Run your fingers all over it.”

  He grunts and leans in to kiss me, bruising my lips.

  All of this finger talk and he’s turning himself on!

  I giggle, and from across the room, he says. “Only no peeking till I tell you.” He sounds slaphappy, and I love it.

  Being extra careful to keep my eyes closed, I grab the softness from my la
p. I try to Helen Keller it out.

  It’s plush, almost velvety feeling? A rabbit. No, it would have kicked me by now.

  The pleading tone in his naturally gravelly voice makes me jump. “I’m gonna let you open your eyes, Sash, but please, only look down into your lap. For me. C’mon, Sash, be a sport. No peeking. Keep your eyes down front. Okay, got it, you got it, okay here goes. Oh wait…” He man-giggles, excited as fuck!

  My heart is pounding. “When I count to three, open, but eyes down, right? Sash?”

  I nod, but I can’t shake the humongous grin from my face. He’s going to a lot of trouble for the queen of trouble.

  The sparks of electricity that are sparking from his electrified animated self are infectious. I’m getting hot just listening to my normally suave man sound goofy. Just when I feel like I’m going to bust, or pee myself—and I won’t be able to play any longer with wet panties—he says, “Three!”

  And I open my eyes. Cast down into my full lap, just like he asked. And there, staring up at me, are adorable chocolate-brown eyes. Aw!

  “It’s a little Domi-Bear! “OMG! So stinking cute, Riley!” I squeal and hug it to my chest.

  A dark cloud tries to mar my perfect moment. Am I missing something? Like a month anniversary, or Riley Fixed a Motor day. Maybe there’s a man-holiday I haven’t been clued in on yet, being new and all to the girlfriend club. Even this momentary lapse into lost anniversary dates doesn’t stop me from examining every square inch of the teddy.

  First of all, how cute is his little jaunty riding hat? Shoved over to the side, covering one eye. I can’t even. It’s cute amped on Red Bull. And the matching tiny leather vest! Miniature motorcycle boots, complete with tiny silver spurs.

  Using a badass baby voice, I didn’t even know I had, I tease. “Nobody’s gonna fuck with you, are they, Teddy?” I rub noses with my new friend. That’s when I notice his little cub ear is pierced…with a metal heart earring. “Aww, I die.”

  Cute as a button, his biker bear ensemble is complete. My bear’s even wearing a smarmy little bear smirk on its face. As if it took one look at itself in this getup and said, “Really?”

  The smallest black whip pokes out of one bear paw. I unbutton the vest and notice a dainty silver chain draped from bear nip to nip. Wow, what’s holding the chain in place?

  “What?! Nipple rings! You are crazy, Riley!” Blushing, I add. “Just the goof for me,” I coo through my own goofy grin. My cheeks hurt from the smile plastered to my face. I’m giggling. He didn’t miss a thing. There was so much love and handmade care put into this present. Right down to the tiny stitches on the vest. “This is definitely not from Build-A-Bear. Somebody named Riley loves me,” I sing, blinking back happy.

  Riley clears his throat from across the room. Seems that he might have a lump to swallow around, too. “You can look now, gorgeous.”

  I keep my eyes down one second longer. I’m not ready. What if it’s a cage and he wants me to get in and growl like a mama bear? Hence, the baby bear.

  But it’s Riley. The worst I have to worry about is him loving me too much. I inhale and cleanse away all of the negative. My chakra feels fine, thank you very much. I’m ready, I look…

  ...And am stunned silent for the first time ever.

  Riley hangs like a side of meat before me. On his knees, he’s facing the patio. Arms clasped over his head.

  His jaw tics with nerves. His body looks wired, jumpy. He’s nervous. Why so worried, Riles?

  Perhaps he’s thinking that all this will have me bolting from the room, screaming bloody murder. Don’t worry, cutie. I’m not going anywhere.

  “Feels like it’s my birthday,” I murmur and slink off the bed for a closer look.

  It appears he can’t go anywhere either. Both arms are trussed up, with restraints and chains, to a hook in the ceiling. Straight up over his head. Like he knows the answer to the question and wants to answer so badly, both his arms are raised high over his head. I can see the muscles in his shoulders strain against the pull of the chains. What the…?

  I put a reassuring hand on his back. His skin jumps beneath it. He’s not speaking, just staring out over the pond.

  “I wonder if they make teeny, tiny strap-ons for my bear?” I whisper in his ear and leave him to imagine all sorts of tomfoolery.

  As soon as I’m behind him, I cover my mouth and oh my God!

  I need a minute to contain myself. This is…new. I get back where I can see him and track a drop of sweat as it glides down his chest, until it dips into his belly button. Whew.

  Is this a limited engagement? Or will the whipping hour become the new nightly? I close my eyes and let the waterfall calm my frazzled nerves.

  The waterfall built with his own two hands. Every boulder handpicked and positioned with care. Riley doesn’t do anything half-cocked, including trussing himself up. The poor bastard kneeling beside me put a lot of thought into how he would serve himself up to me.

  He watches me as I take him in. He’s half-naked, wearing only the tightest set of leather pants he could pour himself into. Not the usual baggy 501s, not for this special night.

  “A little different from the regular night of plain old missionary I was expecting, I gotta tell you, Riles.” I smile down at him, hoping to relieve some of his anxiety.

  He’s got some balls. I can’t think of…no, nobody’s ever put in this much effort for me.

  His cologne mingles with the night air. He smells like a cool place to lie down and just be.

  I take in the chains looped over a heavy-looking hook.

  “My web.” I nod my approval. “All that’s needed now is a black widow with shiny red hair.”

  He’s even patched and touched up around the hole he made in the ceiling. Impressive. Yep, never half-cocked. My man runs on full salute. This wasn’t a spur of the moment project. Riley put in the time.

  “If you wanted my attention, you got it,” I whisper against his neck, tracing the line of his shiver with my lips. Deep sensual kisses, that leave the taste of his sweat on my lips. I lick them clean before nibbling his muscular shoulder.

  His tanned back glistens underneath my hands as I explore. I massage the knots in his neck. He leans forward and groans. Moving to the other shoulder, I lay a row of feather-light kisses along it, ending with a hickey at the base of his neck. My hands reach around to caress his chest. My fingers find his nipples, and I trace each with the tip of a fingernail.

  My hands move without needing to be told. My mouth suckles his neck, and he confesses. “I’m high on your videos, can’t stop watching them. I’ve watched enough of your bear-whipping videos to give me a permanent hard-on. It should be illegal, what you do with a whip, Sash.”

  He sucks in a breath as I rake my nails down to his waistband. Then I change tempo, tickling his waist with the barest touches.

  He looks over his shoulder and gives me a kiss on the cheek before snapping his head back front.

  Well trained, I’ll give him that.

  No eyeballing the jailer. Slaving 101.

  I slide my thumb down the front of his leathers, but I’ve gotta be careful. His pants are full of cock.

  I grab the front of his pants, ripping them open. Giving him some breathing room.

  “Umph.”

  I lean over and am pleased to see he’s fully engorged for me. I smile and step back.

  My eyes roam his body once more. I’ll never get this—Riley on his knees, shirtless, with his hands bound in leather cuffs and chains—out of my mind for as long as I live. I’ll be shitting my diddies with applesauce dribbling down my chin, not even sure of my own name anymore, but I will remember this.

  Right here. Heaven on earth. A beautiful man, begging and bowed at my feet. His skin tan and unblemished. I take it all in.

  But only in darted glances. Riley’s sinful display might burn my corneas.

  Heat floods my veins at the sight of him. If I ran a hand down my arm, I know it would come away damp with an
ticipation.

  And he’s the devil himself, tempting me like this. Taunting me. Asking for it.

  It’s his show. I’m just happy to be invited.

  Raspy and out of breath, he says. “There’s something else, on the bed. What’s say you break it in…on me.”

  I look down at him, but he’s back in submissive mode.

  “Nothing else to say, Riley? No further tips on how to do my job?” It’s forceful, so I lay my hand on his head to soften it. I stroke his silky dark hair back away from his face.

  He leans into my hand, his eyes closed. “That’s it, sweet boy. Relax.”

  I grab him by the hair and yank his head back and kiss his surprised lips. But it’s not a whisper. It’s a fucking kiss, and his cock jumps at my intrusion into his mouth.

  I throw his head forward. “I run this fucking show.”

  His back arches with the brutal treatment, but he needs to know once he turns all of this on, he’s gonna have to pull the plug to stop it. I can’t. Sasha plays for keeps. I change the song so he knows what’s up.

  I hold the phone up and look at him as the opening chords of ‘Closer’ begin.

  He’s fucking sexy when he grins like that. “Nine Inch Nails. How fitting.”

  “It’s on repeat,” I taunt and strut away to get ready.

  I shake my head and wonder just what I did to deserve all this as I grab the cat o’ nine tails from the bed.

  I slink a tight circle around him, shedding layers as I go.

  I time my duck, duck, goose game to end, right in front of him and let him take all of me in. Head to toe, hardcore leather and lace bra, black leather high-waisted panties, fishnets and fuck-me black boots. Luckily my version of getting lucky involves leather.

  He stares at my eyes so long; I push my chest out to get him moving. With one last soft look shared, his eyes move to trace my lips, before taking all of me in. I don’t miss the fire smoldering in his eyes at the sight of his whip in my hand. I don’t think he’ll forget this as long as he lives either.