In Your Corner

by Sarah Castille

  Fifth, the agenda once again in place, Amanda and Jake finally arrive at Amanda’s house. Time for dessert.

  Door closed. Lights off. I press my hands against Jake’s chest and back him slowly up against the wall. “No more teasing. I want my sexy times.”

  “Mmmmm. He nips my ear and tickles kisses along my earlobe. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  “Well, you’re in luck because I’m a very dirty girl who has spent the last hour and a half having very dirty thoughts.” I yank on his belt, freeing it from the buckle before he grabs my hand.

  “Slow down, baby.”

  But I don’t want to slow down. First, Farnsworth; then my house, Reid and his threats, Jake showing up unexpectedly. Too much. Too many things spinning out of control. I need to get off the merry-go-round. I need to regain control in just one aspect of my life. And this way I can lose myself, making Jake feel as good as he makes me feel.

  Dropping to my knees, I unzip his pants. “You were very sweet to show up with dinner. I want to say thank you, but in an impolite, talking-with-the-mouth-full kind of way.”

  Jake growls low in his throat and fists my hair, tugging my head back. “There’s a reward I’d like better because it involves both of us enjoying it.”

  My fists clench on his thighs and I meet his gaze. “Please.”

  He studies me for a long time and a pained expression crosses his face, so fleeting I wonder if I imagined it and then so quickly replaced with raw desire I’m almost sure I did. “I want your mouth on me so fucking bad, baby. I’ve wanted it since that day we were fixing up the house and you were all cute and mussed, with dirt on your face and those plump lips wet and glistening. Fuck. You were talking and I was wiping your face, all I was thinking about was watching those lips slide down my cock.”

  My cheeks heat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Jake shrugs off his jacket and loosens his tie. “Hell yes.”

  I ease his clothing down and his cock springs free, already hard and erect. It bounces gently in my direction and I wrap my hand around the base then slowly glide it toward the piercing, barely visible in the shadows. My stomach cartwheels. God. Oh God. I have fantasized about tasting his piercing since I first touched it in the cage.

  Jake’s hand drops to the back of my head and for a moment I think he’s going to push me away, but instead he pulls me forward and I run my lips along his hot, silky skin.

  “Wasn’t so hard to twist your arm.”

  Jake chuckles. “Oh I’m still gonna follow my agenda, baby. But gentleman that I am, I’ll let you go first.” He hisses in a breath as I lean over and flick my tongue across his head, soft and slick. Then I lick slowly over the piercing and explore the two steel knobs with tentative flicks, the metallic tang deliciously naughty on my tongue. Jake’s cock swells and pulses, and I pump my fist along his length in counterpoint to my licks.

  “Suck me, baby. Don’t tease.” Jake fists my hair, holding my head still as he thrusts into my mouth. He fills me, thick and hot, and I close my eyes and lose myself in the sensual scrape of his piercing over my tongue, the scent of his soap, and the musk of his arousal.

  “Take it all.” He groans and thrusts deeper. “You know how to do it.”

  My clit throbs and pressure builds fast in my center. I release his cock and slide one hand between my legs. Thank God he took off my panties.

  “That’s it, baby,” Jake whispers. “You get off with me.”

  Moaning against his cock, I spread my wetness up and over my clit while Jake surges in and out of my mouth, following the slide of my lips. With each thrust, the piercing drives farther into my throat, the sensation both frightening and deliciously arousing.

  Suddenly his hand tightens on my neck and he thrusts hard and deep. “Fuck, baby. Oh fuck.” A low guttural groan tears from his throat as his cock thickens and swells.

  And then he pulls away.

  “Jake…what’s wrong?”

  Jaw tight, body tensed, he takes a deep breath and then another. “Gotta stop. I love your sweet mouth, but something’s eating you, and I’m gonna find out what it is. And to do that, I need to love you, not take you. I’m gonna love you until you break and let me in.”

  Nononononononono. I don’t want loving. I want Jake coming in my mouth. I want hard, fast, furious fucking. I want my body slamming into the wall, his piercing dragging over my G-spot, freezing my brain with exquisite pleasure until I can’t take any more.

  But Jake has other ideas. Suddenly I’m in his arms and his lips are pressed against mine and he’s kissing me the way I imagined he would kiss me every night after we broke up. Lips soft and teasing, teeth nibbling, questing tongues and heavy breathing. My body sags, melts into him. He groans softly, curls his hand around my neck, and draws me in to feast on my lips until I am panting and breathless, ready to offer him anything for another taste of the steel that throbs between us.

  “That’s it,” he whispers. “Slow and gentle. The way we should have done it the first time. The way I wanted to do it the day we met again.” He undoes the buttons on my shirt one by one, his fingers lingering on my bare skin as he exposes me ever so slowly to the heat of his gaze. He takes similar care with my skirt, following it over my hips and down my legs with the smooth caress of his fingers until he is kneeling in front of me.

  “There is not an inch of your beautiful body I don’t want to touch.”

  He jumps easily to his feet and leads me to my living room, then spreads his suit jacket over the center of the area rug, a soft, thick French Provençal–inspired cottage floral with pastel tones to set off the white shabby-chic covered sofas and faux-chipped light green tables.

  “Down you go, baby.”

  Moments later I am surrounded by Jake, the silky slide of his suit jacket under me, the scent of his cologne around me, and his body, hot and heavy, on top of me. His lips slide down my neck, and he peppers tiny kisses over the crescents of my breasts. I arch my back and he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, and then flings it on the rapidly growing pile of clothing beside us. Without another word, he proceeds to ravish my breasts like he’s never seen them before, kissing and licking, nipping and sucking, until they are sore and swollen and my nipples peak, reaching for the ceiling.

  With a quiet moan, I slide my hands through his soft curls and hold him tight against me as my body trembles beneath him.

  “Shhhhh. Let it go.”

  Then his lips are back, skimming over my heated skin, my abdomen, and brushing gently over my mound, but never going where I want them to be. My body throbs and pulses with need, and even the cool, silk lining of his jacket gives me no respite.

  “Do you know why I like you bare?” he whispers.

  My clit pulses under the heat of his breath and I moan. “Why?”

  “Because I can give you more pleasure.” His fingertip slides through my folds and, when I least expect it, brushes right over my throbbing clit.

  My back arches at the exquisite sensation and a whimper escapes my lips.

  “Oh yes. You’re gonna give it all up for me. All that fear. All that stress. You’re going to let go because that’s what you need and that’s what I want.”

  A violent shudder wracks my body and fear twists icy tendrils around my spine. I can’t give myself to him. What if he sees me, all of me, and finds me lacking? What if I give myself to him and he lets me down? What if I open up and he walks away? “Jake…”

  “Let me take care of you.”

  My brain fuzzes with lust and I tug on his shirt, trying to pull it off. I want to smooth my hands over his warm skin, feel his muscles ripple under my touch. But more than that, I want to feel him hot and hard and heavy in my hand.

  I get nothing.

  Jake grasps my wrists and gently lifts my hands up and over my head. Then, balancing on one knee, he loosens his tie and da
ngles it in front of me. “Are you okay if I restrain you with this?”

  Pulse quickens, lungs tighten, skin tingles. Trembling as arousal rockets through my body, I moan, “I thought you were going to love me.”

  He gives me a half smile. “I am loving you. But you need to think about only my touch and you can’t do that if your hands are in the way. Plus, you’re so damn sexy, I don’t think I could take your hands on me. Not if we’re going to take it slow.”

  My head falls back and I groan. “No slow. Bad slow. Let me up and fuck me hard.”

  Jake’s jaw tightens and he growls, his hands tightening on my wrists. “You got that in the cage. Now we’re doing it my way.”

  Swallowing the ache of desire, I lift an eyebrow. “Your way or the highway?”

  Jake chuckles. “My way. Period.”

  “Okay. Tie away.”

  He wraps the cool silk around my wrists, tying them firmly together. I test the bond and it gives slightly, enough that I know if I really needed to get free, I could.

  Jake watches me experiment and winks. “Didn’t want to scare you the first time.”

  “I’m not scared with you.”

  He gives a satisfied grunt, and then slides his hand through the planes and valleys of my body, his touch so light, I strain toward him, unable to think of anything but where his hand might go next.

  “What do you feel?” His breath is warm and moist in my ear, demanding, insistent.

  “Hot.”

  “You are so fucking hot, lying here, available for my pleasure. I could tease you all evening. Or I could fuck you. Or maybe I’ll just bring you close and walk away.” With easy grace, he rolls up and kneels between my legs to position my feet, knees bent up and out, heels planted in the soft, thick carpet. Then he traces lazy circles along my inner thighs.

  “Legs do not move,” he says. “Not an inch.”

  My sex clenches as his light caresses come closer and closer to my very wet center. Have I ever been so wet from just a touch?

  Jake reaches over to the clothing pile and pulls a tissue from the packet in his jacket pocket. With a wicked grin, he brushes the tissue lightly over my clit. Despite the barely there flutter, I am so swollen, so needy, my body jumps as if he had pinched me and moisture floods my sex.

  “Oh God.”

  With a soft laugh, he places the tissue over my mound and sits back, away from my body. The tissue rocks gently in the air current, a whisper of a touch, an exquisite torture. I rock my hips seeking friction from something so light a breath could take it from me at any moment.

  Carnal satisfaction flickers through his eyes as he watches me undulate my hips only the barest inch, enough for a touch but not too much that I would lose my only path to release.

  “Do you need something, baby?”

  “I need to come.”

  He slides one finger along my folds and then dips into my swollen center. My body stiffens. When he crooks his finger and gently pumps my G-spot, I whimper.

  “Yes, you do.” He withdraws his finger and flicks the tissue away, leaving me bereft.

  “You are so damn wet, baby. Your body is on board. Let the rest go.” He leans over and kisses me. Soft, sweet, gentle kisses that make me ache inside. My body is awash with sensation: the erotic ache in my nipples, the exquisite throb of my sex and the smooth silk under my back. The familiar scents of oak and furniture polish mix with the heady scent of Jake’s cologne and the musk of his arousal. His face is framed by the soft track lights above us and I taste chocolate on his lips as the bone-melting rumble of his voice coaxes, assures, but above all, demands.

  Too much. My senses overload. I squeeze my eyes shut and a groan rips from my throat.

  The tear of a foil packet. The snap of a condom. Oh happy sounds! When I open my eyes, Jake is kneeling between my legs. “Open.”

  Instantly, my legs fall apart.

  For a moment I expect him to crawl over me. Lie on top. Missionary style. But this is Jake and in that, he hasn’t changed. He is so not a missionary man.

  He hooks one arm under my thigh at the back of my knee, drawing my leg up and out, opening me wider. And then his cock is at my entrance and I am almost hyperventilating with need.

  “This might be intense, baby,” he says softly. “The piercing is most effective when you’re at the peak of arousal. For some women it’s the ultimate pleasure, but for others it’s a pleasure that borders on pain. That’s why I wanted to get you ready. Tell me if you need me to slow down.”

  Dark desires awaken inside me with a roar. A deep, long-hidden need claws at my belly. The thought he planned this from the start, with this goal as the ultimate end, sends a rush of molten heat through my body. I close my eyes and give myself over to him with a raw, guttural groan. Utterly and completely.

  “There we are,” he whispers. And then he breaches my entrance, stretching me, filling me. My body trembles in fearful anticipation.

  “Jake…?”

  “Shhhh. Hold on. It’ll be good. I promise.” He thrusts deeper and the metal knob glides over my G-spot.

  Pleasure pain sears through my body like white hot lightning, so intense my vision goes white and my body arches high off the ground. My eyes water, my jaw clenches, and a scream of pleasure rips from my gut, rolling through me like a tidal wave. Jake covers my mouth with his own, swallowing my passion, and I am only vaguely aware he is moving, thrusting, sending new jolts of sensation through my sex with every scrape of the piercing. My body coils tight, bones, tendons, muscles fusing into one pulsing ball of need. My womb is heavy and every fiber of my being is centered on my core.

  “Fly, baby.” Jake slicks a finger over my clit, the barest touch, and then he drives in again. Moisture spurts from my swollen inner tissue, making my sex so slick he glides in and out faster even than before. One pinch of my clit. One thrust of his cock. And I explode into a thousand pieces in the most intense orgasm of my life. Pain. Pleasure. Release. Over and over again. His every thrust drags out my orgasm. Endless waves of pleasure thunder through my body. And I am screaming and he is thrusting and I am lost in the ether, in a world of never-ending exquisite sensation.

  “Christ. Fuck.” He hammers deep and fast. His cock thickens, becomes impossibly hard, and then he comes with a yell, pulsing against my swollen tissues.

  Boneless, spineless, still floating, I am vaguely aware he has released my leg and collapsed on top of me, weight on his elbows, head resting between my breasts. As we come back down, he reaches above me and releases my hands with one tug of the tie. Quick release. And then he rolls onto his back and pulls me across his chest.

  “I have you now,” he says softly, his hand stroking gently along my spine.

  Yes, he has me.

  But I’ve never felt so afraid.

  “You okay, baby?”

  My mouth opens and closes, but words fail me. I am ripped open, exposed, bared to the world and scrambling around in the dark.

  He cups my jaw with his hand, forcing me to look up. His brow is creased and his eyes crinkle with concern. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. I’m here. I won’t let you go.”

  A tidal wave of emotion floods through my veins too fast, too powerful to stop. I bite through my lip to stop the overflow leaking from the corners of my eyes, and then the words spill out. Crazy words. Untimely words. Words I never thought I’d say. “I have to sell my house.”

  His brow creases in a frown, but I see the moment understanding dawns. His face softens and he squeezes me tight, chasing away the fear, filling the void. Just like I imagined.

  But unlike how I imagined, he doesn’t say soothing words and tell me he understands or sympathizes with how I might feel. He is not a fantasy man. He is a real man. And real men feel compelled to solve problems, not throw out meaningless platitudes even when they have torn open a woman’s sou
l and that is what she wants to hear.

  Why are you losing the house? Do you need money? Did you talk to Max? Did you go to the bank and ask for a loan? How about hiring another firm? What about your parents? A mortgage? Can I help? I have money saved. What about dropping the case? And on and on.

  When he has finally run out of questions, I kiss him softly. “I told you about it. That’s a big step for me. Don’t push. Just hold me.”

  I can almost see the physical effort involved in reining in his natural inclination to problem solve. His body tenses, jaw tightens, even his pulse beats more rapidly in his neck. But he manages to overcome the burden nature has thrust upon men, and moments later, I am being hugged and stroked while he whispers that he knows how much that house means to me and he will do anything to help.

  Just like I imagined.

  Chapter 16

  WELL, THAT WAS JUST STUPID

  A few nights of sex and sleep and more sex and less sleep leaves me with a happy buzz that lasts until Friday morning when I walk into my office and find a giant, unwelcome stack of medical reports on my desk beside the humongous pile of Farnsworth-related paperwork.

  “What are these?”

  Penny hands me a file and grimaces. “Hellhole case. Medical reports documenting the injuries of your friend, Bob, and his bouncer buddy.”

  “And this?” My voice rises as I stare at the file in my hand.

  “Originals of the retainer agreements for the Redemption case. Jake still hasn’t signed his. You don’t have much time left to get that defense filed. I’ve put a note in your calendar.”

  With a sigh, I drop the file on my desk. “We decided it wasn’t a good idea for me to represent him on either case. He’s going to find someone else. We’re too…close.”

  She finally smiles. “That’s a good thing.”

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  “Anything else to ruin my morning?”

  Penny gives me a sympathetic smile and points to a stack of files on the credenza beside the microwave. “Your pro bono files need some attention. I’ve flagged the deadlines coming up. Ray won’t be around today. He has a lead on the Hellhole guys, and he’s gone to see if he can get a video of them without their casts. I have to leave on time because I have a date with Vetch. And…Jill called to see how the case was progressing and to let you know if you need help, she’s still looking for work. I seriously think you should consider hiring her.”