Fighting for Phoebe

by Jennifer Ann

  Tell him you’ll go with him. Throw caution to the wind for once in your life. Stop being such a pussy. At the very least, start thinking with your pussy.

  The loud beeps of the semi-trailer backing up bring Jace back to the crack in the building. “You’re right, they’re loading it up. Son of a bitch!”

  “Don’t worry, I know exactly where he’ll be taking it. We’ll get it back, Jace. I promise.” Pacing back and forth through the little shack, I tap my chin. Though I know what has to be done, I’m not ready to go there…yet. “If he’s going to keep playing this game, we need something as leverage against his sorry ass. Something that will hit home hard enough that he’ll give in.”

  “You’ve already become too involved,” Jace growls. “This ends when I get my bike.”

  “All right, that’s it.” I fist his shirt and pull him closer to get his full attention. “This is the last time we’re going to have this conversation, so listen carefully. I’m involved in ‘your shit’ because it started when you went up against Decker. I’m not some special snowflake that’s going to get ruined in ‘your shit’—god, that’s a disgusting visual. Why do you have to keep calling it your ‘shit’? It’s like you have an obsession with feces.” I stop to literally shake the thoughts from my head. “Anyway, there’s no way Decker’s going to let you simply grab your bike and run without some form of retribution, so you’re going to have to trust me when I say we need something that’s going to grab the scum sniffer’s attention. So stop already and remember we’re in this together, okay?”

  Wetting his lips with his tongue, he throws me a lustful look through his dark lashes. “You’re hot as fuck when you’re bossy. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  Hyper aware that my breath has taken on a shallow beat, I look down at my hand clutching his shirt. The second I look back into his cornflower blue irises, I’m a goner. I also probably smell like a barnyard.

  “Screw this.” I yank him closer by his shirt.

  Our mouths come together for a sensational kiss that reflects the pent-up frustration we’ve both felt since Ellen walked in on us the night before. Our hands become grabby as we dance around the small space, stumbling over things until my back’s against one of the shitty boards that creaks with my weight. Jace interrupts the kiss long enough to yank my shirt up and off my arms, ripping the neck in the process. I do the same to him before our mouths reconnect.

  Dear Lord above, his body is so hard and warm beneath my fingertips that I don’t ever want to stop touching him. And the way he pops my breasts free of my bra, pinching each nipple before bending to take one between his teeth for a fleeting moment…I’m on the edge of an orgasmic nirvana that I don’t ever want to check out from.

  Then he’s kissing me again, caressing my greedy tongue with his, and I’m grinding my hips against him. When greeted by the satisfying salute of his cock, my body lights like an entire aisle of Christmas trees. I reach into his jeans, rubbing him as much as the constraints of the stiff cotton and his boxer briefs will allow. He mirrors my actions, slipping his hand down my shorts and rubbing his fingers over my sopping wet slit until I’m mewling in his mouth. Sweet Virginia, that feels so damn good.

  His mouth moves along to my neck, trailing kisses back down to my breasts as his magic fingers do their job. When he bites down onto my erect nipple, I’m so turned on that I’m merely holding his hard cock in my fingers, neglecting my side of the pleasure cruise. All I can concentrate on is the need to feel him inside of me. Pronto.

  “I haven’t exchanged hand jobs since junior high,” I say, arching my back with the fantastic swell building up between my legs. “What do you say we skip ahead and fuck properly like a couple of grownups?”

  He hums questioningly with a hardened nipple in his mouth. The vibration is divine. “Here?”

  “Now,” I confirm, breathless.

  Apparently Jace isn’t the kind of man who needs asking twice because before I can remove my bra and wrangle my panties off from around my ankles, he’s naked and throwing his shirt over the edge of a questionably stable pile of crates.

  I stop short, appreciating his hard, wide length that’s already glistening with pre-cum. Damn, he’s big. As I’m trying to decide how I’m going to take him without splitting in two, he hoists me into the air, pressing his lips on mine and setting my bare ass down over his shirt. I hook my legs around his waist with my panties still hanging off one foot and he slides against my clit with his thick cock. Digging my fingernails into his neck, I pull away to bite his earlobe.

  “Stick that beautiful cock inside of me already before I make a mess on this dusty old floor,” I beg, attempting to angle my ass so I can slip down over him. “Jaaace…come on already.”

  I feel him fisting himself as he aligns us up before filing me oh-so-slowly, giving my walls a chance to adjust to the intrusion. He’s bigger than I thought I could ever handle. As he pushes in, inch-by-glorious-inch, I’m filled with a searing pain that has me hissing through my teeth.

  Our gazes lock as he slides all the way to the hilt, tapping a part of me that’s already trembling with glee. And just like that, the discomfort is replaced by pleasurable chills that run all the way up to the base of my skull. Having him buried deep inside of me feels even better than I had anticipated, and he hasn’t even begun thrusting yet.

  His eyes darken when he smirks. “That what you wanted, sweetheart?”

  “Not quite. Give it to me hard, Jace.” With my fingernails dug deep into his tight-as-hell ass, I grind my hips. “Do me like you mean it.”

  Jace releases a choked growl. “Do that again and I’m going to lose it in this tight pussy.”

  “That’s the point, sweetheart.”

  Finally he draws out and rams himself back inside, making my teeth rattle and my breasts bounce hard. The boxes beneath me creek in protest, ready to give in the same way as my legs. But since it’s the most amazing feeling my body has ever experienced, he could be slamming into me in the middle of a symphony and I probably wouldn’t notice. There’s already divine music playing through my head, though it sounds more like Five Finger Death Punch than an orchestra.

  “Hell yes,” I hiss through my teeth when he slams into me again.

  “Hold on tight, gorgeous, because I’m about to give you what you want and I’m not sure you can handle it.”

  He’s oh so right in many ways.

  Physically and mentally, I have no clue how I’m going to carry on after this.

  8

  Jace

  There’s a scalding hot fire in my groin as I slam into Phoebe again. Her pussy’s so unbelievably tight and she’s so damn wet, and brave, and determined that I feel like I’m going to lose my fucking mind with every thrust. She’s already warm and inviting, but the way she’s looking at me like my cock is the best thing she’s ever felt? Shit, this gorgeous woman is unreal.

  “Harder!” she rasps, hooking an arm around my neck and arching her back.

  I latch on to one of her rosy nipples giving it a hard suck before I glide in and out of her so forcefully that her chin bobs against her chest. It’s so goddamned hot the way she wants it rough, even if it’s for messed up reasons that I don’t want to dwell on. She meets my hips thrust for thrust, and the sounds of skin-on-skin fall flat in the small shed.

  When I fear the crates underneath her are going to give way, I scoop her into my arms and lean back, angling my cock to go in deeper as she bounces over it, riding me to a new level of bliss. Her loud moans mirror the mask of ecstasy lighting her face.

  “Oh, Jace, you can’t imagine how good this feels!”

  Grunting with understanding, I concentrate on holding her upright to stop myself from blowing too soon. The drive to take her back to her apartment and fuck her until neither of us can stand any longer hits me square in the chest. Her wet warmth feels so amazing that I nearly pinch myself to make sure it’s real. How the hell can I leave her behind after this?

  She’s beyond bea
utiful when she arches backward, blue tips of her hair spilling down her back, face flushed, puckered tits up, pink little mouth open. “I think…oh wait…god yes, I know I’m going to come!”

  I roughly finger her clit to help her along, and in turn she scrapes her fingernails down my back. She’s wailing when her pussy contracts around my cock, milking the end of my own climax. Explosions light up behind my eyes as I’m hit with an overwhelmingly fierce burst so grand I half expect to fall over.

  “Unless you’re on something, you need to get off,” I bite out between clenched teeth. “Now.” She gasps as I lift her up just in time to receive a spurt of my hot cum across her belly. As I set her down, she’s scooping it up with her index finger and meeting my gaze. I groan as she sticks her finger inside her mouth, sucking vigorously until her cheeks are hallowed.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” I groan, amazed when my dick bounces back to business. “You’re killing me.”

  Releasing her finger with a wet pop, she grins wickedly. “That’s unfortunate, considering that was the best sex of my existence.” Her lidded gaze wanders down my body, stopping on my hard cock. “Ready to go another round, I see.”

  Jesus Christ, could she get any hotter?

  While the suggestion is all most too tempting to resist among the taunting smell of sweat and sex, I shake my head and scoop my underwear off the ground to wipe the remaining cum off her belly. “We need to get the hell outta here.”

  “Yeah, I get it, you want your bike,” she mumbles, stepping into her panties. “Yeah, so, we should do this again some time. I had…fuuuun. Good times.”

  “I plan to do it again,” I growl, frustrated that I can’t bend her over and go another round. “Just as soon as we find somewhere else where I don’t have to worry about you getting tetanus.”

  Phoebe stands frozen in place with her panties halfway up her thighs, mouth open. God, it’s cute as shit the way she’s always open and animated. And hot.

  “You’re not the only one who had a good time, gorgeous,” I tell her with a wink. “Besides, we need somewhere safe to decide our next move.”

  I’m thankful when she doesn’t ask how long I’m sticking around or if I’m changing my mind, because I don’t have a damn clue. All I know is I have to see this thing with her ex out to make sure the threat is over and keep her safe. When it’s time to hit the road, maybe by then I can finally convince her she’d be better off with me. Or maybe I’m just being selfish. Fuck, I don’t know. I’m addicted to whatever makes her special and don’t know that there can be any other cure other than to keep her close.

  After tossing my boxers into my bag, I retrieve a clean pair and force my semi-hard cock into them before throwing on my clothes. Phoebe’s dressed before I am, waiting with the door held open. From the excitement dancing in her eyes, she’s clearly on board with my change of plans. With my bag over my shoulder, I take her hand, grasping it firmly.

  “Your place isn’t safe. Any idea where else we can go?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but it involves a lot of walking. You good with that?”

  “Depends how exposed we’ll be. I don’t see your ex or the sheriff leaving us alone any time soon.”

  “There’s a path in the woods that follows the river and leads to the next town. It’s bigger and not a lot of people know me there. Plus it’s out of Sheriff Mortensen’s jurisdiction. Decker wouldn’t dare mess with the deputies there. They know he’s a complete jackhole and crooked as shit.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I chuckle. “Jackhole?”

  “You know, an asshole that’s jacked.” Her shoulders lift with an innocent shrug. “Do you have any cash?”

  “Enough to get us by for a few days.”

  The truth is, I cleaned out my life savings and would have enough cash to keep us hidden for even longer. But without any kind of plan that involves generating more of an income, I’m going to need to hold onto a big chunk of it for as long as I can. Thank fuck I grabbed my bag before they towed my bike, or I would’ve been screwed.

  Phoebe’s unable to hide her excitement when hearing that I’m committing to staying that long, and practically skips when pulling me from the shed. As we make our way toward the thick covering of trees past the last city block, I’m on high alert, checking over my shoulder at least a hundred times in ten minutes.

  Once we make it into the safety of the oak canopy, Phoebe becomes animated as if with the flip of a switch, telling stories of games she’d play in the woods with the neighbor kids as a little girl. It doesn’t surprise me to hear that Ellen would let her young daughter loose in a dangerous place, unsupervised. I’m amazed she made it out of high school in one goddamned piece.

  At one point she turns to me with a mischievous smile as she’s swinging my hand. “Now that we’ve…uh…tasted each other, can you at least tell me a little bit about yourself, like what you meant when you told Decker you have a bunch of scary guys at your beck and call? Are we talking football players, or something more insane, like John Cena brand of crazy? I feel like someone with your size muscles would most definitely be involved in an extreme sport.”

  A band of worry stretches across my stomach. How much should I delve into my past? Am I getting too comfortable by thinking I can trust her? Does it even matter at this point? “I’ll tell you eventually, once I know you won’t get hurt by discovering the truth. The kind of people that are after me don’t like their mistakes to be exposed.”

  “I’m going to assume that means you’re some kind of international spy considering that gunshot wound on your shoulder.” She stops walking to shake her head as she bats my stomach with the back of her hand. “Seriously, it’s like you were created from my wettest dreams. If you tell me that you know how to surf and obsess over eighties movies while eating fro yo, I’m going to lose my freaking mind.”

  When she cuts me a daring look, I chuckle and shake my head. “I wouldn’t say I obsess…”

  “Oh, come on!”

  When she playfully smacks my chest yet again, I hold back a growl as well as a sudden need to spank her for misbehaving. As much as I hate the idea of how she came to enjoy violence, I promise myself that I won’t ever hurt her unless she’s begging me to get rough during sex. Apparently she has a way of coaxing out dark desires I didn't even know lie within me.

  Splaying her fingers flat across my chest, her eyes spark to life. “Guys like you aren’t supposed to exist in real life, kind of like Bigfoot and non-terrifying clowns.”

  A knot rises in my throat with the way she’s looking at me once again with hero worship. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the whole story.”

  “Try me,” she challenges. “I’m not one to judge people based on their mistakes either. It’s what’s in your heart that truly matters, and so far I haven’t seen anything that would suggest yours is any blacker than the rest of ours.”

  Staring into her big brown eyes, I teeter between telling her the truth and bolting like a coward. Then her warm little hand reaches up to stroke my stubbled jaw and I forget the reason I’m on the run, the reason I’m holding back with her. Primal urges claw at my brain, telling me to pull her down to the grass and slam into her warm opening over and over until we both pass out from exhaustion, then do it all over again until time stops and I’m finished questioning the desire to keep her in my life.

  “I’m a con-artist,” she blurts. “Well, Ellen is, anyway. Always has been. It started out with smaller stuff when I was little. Teaching me how to spot a rich man, telling bogus stories to make them want to help, that kind of shit. After I graduated high school, we started targeting vulnerable men online. In the eyes of the law I’m probably considered more of an accessory. And not the fashionable kind most women want.”

  I stare at her, unblinking, waiting for her to confess that she’s full of shit. When she merely casts me an unsure, wide-eyed look, I grab her wrist. “You’re not joking.”

  “Depends. Will I ever feel that talented tongue of yours again if
I’m not?” Wrenching her hand free from mine, she pulls her pouting lip between her teeth and watches me like she’s expecting I’ll run.

  I finally blink several times as the truth sinks in. The woman I don’t think I can let walk out of my life any time soon is a con-artist.

  So fucking what?

  It still doesn’t come close to the list of crimes I’ve committed that continue to grow longer by the hour.

  Narrowing my eyes, I say, “She must not be any good at it the way her house looks close to being condemned. And no offense, but your place isn’t in any better shape.”

  “I only get free rent of that shithole out of the deal. Whatever money she’s not keeping stashed somewhere, she’s blowing on ridiculous stuff that people won’t really notice, like obscenely high priced makeup and little weekend getaways to Minneapolis and St. Paul. She blows thousands in mere days on swanky motels and five-star restaurants. She’s worried that if she moves, or fixes up her house, or buys a flashy car, she’ll draw unwanted attention. She’s managed to execute dozens of cons without anyone suspecting her.” Looking down at her hand on my chest, she draws it away as if she thinks I no longer want her touching me. “To be honest, I don’t really want the money anyway. It’s disgusting the way she steals from mostly decent men. I’m embarrassed to admit that I came out of her.”

  Blown away by how straight she’s being with me about it, I shake my head. “If you don’t like it, then why do you keep helping her?”

  “Because after the first big con, when I was broke as hell and in dire need of the kind of money she promised so I could finally blow out of this lame-ass town, she threatened to call the police if I didn’t help her again. She said it’d be easy to make it look like I was the one pulling the scams.”

  Mother. Fucker.

  Looking away from her, I curl my hands into fists against my thighs. I knew there was a reason I didn’t trust Ellen from the second she stepped into Phoebe’s apartment. Who in the hell blackmails their own daughter into committing crimes? Conniving assholes who only look out for themselves.