Eye of the Storm

by Monette Michaels

  Chapter 10

  "CRAWL in bed, sweetheart." Ren gently shoved her toward his king-size platform bed. "I'll take a shower and join you in a bit."

  Keely turned and placed her hands on his flannel shirt and began to unbutton it. "Want company in the shower?" Her voice was low, sultry—sexy—and it stoked his already over-active libido.

  "Not this time." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll take a rain check, though." He brushed a silky curl out of her eye, his finger lingering to massage the creamy white skin above her eyebrow. "After last night and this morning, you have to be ready to drop in your tracks."

  His shirt fully unbuttoned, she pulled it from his waistband, then began to attack the button-fly front of his jeans. Her hands were way too close to his hard-on. Shit, it wouldn't take much for him to shoot his wad. His cock was hard and throbbing for release just being in her company. His little brain knew what it wanted, and it wanted Keely. His big brain kept telling him how recently she'd been sexually traumatized in Boston, then attacked in Argentina by Trujo's mercs, and today by Bannon.

  If those weren't enough reasons to leave her alone, she was a tiny, delicate pixie and he was a big, hard and far-too-experienced male. She needed a gradual introduction to his level of lovemaking; he'd go slow even if it killed him. They had their whole lives in front of them for hard, raunchy sex, but she'd only have one first time with him. He wanted it to be perfect.

  So he'd take a shower and jack off. Then after a cuddling nap, he'd give her a couple of orgasms through heavy petting and some oral loving. Intercourse was not on the menu tonight and maybe not for awhile. The truth was, he was afraid of hurting her. Yeah, he was a candy-assed coward.

  Keely's hands on his bared cock caused him to jerk out of his reverie. If she continued to stroke him he might not make it to the shower and self-relief. He'd take her on the hard wood floor—and wouldn't that be romantic?

  "Sprite, don't start something we can't finish." He gently removed her hands from his pulsating dick and placing them by her side.

  "Why can't we finish it?" Her green eyes glittered as she narrowed them. Her luscious, full mouth thinned.

  Shit, she was pissed. "Keely…baby…" Fuck it, how could he explain his plans? He suspected whatever he said, she'd get more annoyed. Maybe she thought he was rejecting her. He wasn't. He couldn't. He wanted to make love to her more than anything he'd ever wanted in his whole life.

  "Ren?" She sighed, a tone of resignation in her voice. "Did my Dad speak with you about me…about us?"

  He nodded. She was too intuitive. His wary gaze never left her beautiful face, hoping he could interpret exactly what she was feeling, thinking. Problem was, she had a perfect poker face when she wanted. Probably learned it from her Dad. If Quinn ever did get around to teaching her poker, no one's money would be safe.

  "Okay." She heaved a big sigh, her hands moving to his thermal undershirt. She drew random patterns on his chest with a finger. His nipples tightened, aching for her touch. "First, forget anything my Dad or brothers said." Her fiery green gaze captured his. "They aren't me—and they don't make my decisions. Understand?"

  "Yeah, but…"

  "No, yeah but…" She exhaled, a sound filled with frustration. "I think the real issue here is—I'm inexperienced and small and that scares you."

  He opened his mouth to contradict her, but she covered his lips with her fingers, effectively silencing him. "Don't deny it, 'cause you'd be lying to both of us. I'm small and you're big, right?" She kept her fingers on his lips, so he nodded since she seemed to be waiting on some response from him. "However, I'll point out I'm slightly bigger than my mother."

  He'd give her that point.

  "You've seen my Dad. He's huge—big as you and maybe heavier."

  Well, that was true.

  "Mom survived the loss of her virginity at Dad's hands—and then birthed a set of twins, three other sons and then me. She told me sex with Dad was always good, even the first time. And I know for a fact that they still get it on today."

  Whoa, way too much information.

  He had to hand it to her—her logic was impeccable and irrefutable. But it still didn't make him feel any better. Her fingers dropped from his mouth. He choked back a laugh at the hot pink coloring Keely's cheeks. Imagining her parents having sex had thrown her for a loop, also.

  Gamely, his little warrior continued. "I'm absolutely positive I'll survive losing my innocence to you. For chrissakes, Tweetie told me I don't even have a hymen anymore since that Argentinian doctor eliminated it with a too-big speculum. I'm pretty sure your penis will feel way better than a cold hunk of metal."

  Shit. He hadn't needed the replay of the idiot doctor sticking a cold piece of metal in her sweet pussy. He still regretted not punching the stupid son of a bitch's lights out.

  Keely ran agitated fingers through her curls. His fingers itched to stroke through the strands, calming them down. "And, really, Ren, at thirty-four years old, you should be experienced enough to make me feel really good. So…see…there's no problem." Her cheeks blazing red and her eyes downcast, she stroked his chest. "I want you—you want me. We should just do it."

  Sounded really easy when she put it that way, but it wasn't. He had mental images of her screaming in pain and bleeding all over the damn place. "Keely…baby…” He massaged her back, settling his hands at the top of her pert round butt. He could cup a cheek in each hand, she was so small. So tiny. So delicate. Fuck.

  "Spit it out, Ren. What's the problem? I know you want me, 'cause this guy," she dropped one hand and stroked his randy cock, "has been as hard as a steel pike every time you're around me. So what's the issue other than you being afraid of hurting me?"

  She was one hundred percent correct on each and every issue…but he wasn't ready to put his big cock in her tiny pussy. Call him a wuss, but that's the way things stood.

  "Sweetheart, what am I going to do with you?"

  "Make love to me?" Hope, and yeah, desire gleamed in her emerald gaze.

  He shook his head as he pulled her hand away from his way-too-eager cock and placing it back on his chest where it was safe. "No intercourse for now. Let me court you."

  Her lips thinned and then she opened her mouth—he assumed to offer more arguments. He forestalled any more of her excellent logic by nibbling at her cute lower lip as it jutted out. "Let me in, Keely." He nipped the pouty lip until she let him in. Angling his head, he moved a hand up to hold her head in place for his kiss. Then he ravaged her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside to claim every luscious millimeter. His other hand pulled her into his body so his hard-on could nestle against her firm lower belly. Once he had her where he wanted her, he changed his kiss. Now he fed. Sucking her tongue into his mouth, he slowly and thoroughly devoured her, absorbing her taste, imprinting his on her.

  Her throaty moans shot his libido up another notch. He released her tongue to gently eat at her lips again, nibbling, licking, conquering and claiming. All the while, his hips thrust against her, his raging hard-on mindlessly seeking the hot, moist warmth lying under her clothing.

  God, he had to slow this down or Keely would be under him before he could stop himself. His feisty sprite wasn't helping him any with his plan to court her slowly. She showed no fear of his sexual hunger—or his size. Instead she melted into him, accepting his body's urges. Her hands had crept under his undershirt and massaged his chest. When she found his nipples, he broke off the kiss. He groaned his pleasure into the curls on top of her head.

  "Like that, huh?" She bit his pecs through the thin shirt, then began a journey of little stinging bites toward the nipples, which her fingers had so deftly brought to hard peaks. "I want you to do this to me."

  Oh, hell, yeah. He wanted that too—later, after she had time to rest and he could jerk off first. He wouldn't budge on his decision—no intercourse until they had "dated" for awhile. She deserved, needed to be wooed.

  But his little warrior
had her own agenda, it seemed. She eyed him from between her lashes as she sucked on a nipple through his shirt, before gently teething then releasing it. She moved across his chest and did the same to its twin. His cock jerked and leaked pre-cum. His balls tightened, begging for release. "Jesus-fucking-Christ, you've got to stop." He gently disengaged her teeth from his chest.

  "I want you to suck my breasts," she whispered against the nipple she'd gently abraded with her teeth, "and make me so hot I come. Then…” she sent him a look so filled with hunger he groaned, "I want you to do it all over again with your big hard cock in me."

  "God, sweetheart, you have to slow down." He grunted when she teethed his nipple again. "Cannibalistic, are we?"

  "No, I'm horny. You seem to have that effect on me." She soothed the abused nipple by tonguing it through the shirt. His shirt was a soggy mess, and he really didn't give a flying good goddamn. His little warrior had a mean edge to her. He liked it. And God knew, she made him horny and had since she took out the bartender in Argentina.

  Keely trailed kisses up his chest until she found the base of his throat. Between slow, licks of the skin lying over his rapidly beating pulse, she whispered, "I want your big cock in me…in my mouth…in my pussy. I want to be experienced by the time we eat pot roast. Got it?" She raked her teeth over his pulse. Her hand encircled his cock, stroking it firmly.

  "Uh…careful, baby, the head is attached." God, he was weak; he needed to stop her before things got out of control.

  She changed her caress, tighter and rougher on his shaft, then a light swipe over the head with her palm before moving more firmly down the shaft. "Better, big guy? And I do mean big. You are larger than all my brothers."

  Ice cold water couldn't have deflated him any better. He let out a low snarl as he covered the hand on his cock, stilling its inciting movement. He tipped her chin up with his other hand. "You up close and personal with your brothers' cocks, Keely?" His voice was low and cold, his protective instincts rushing to the forefront of his brain. How the fuck had she seen her brothers' cocks? What had they done to her?

  Her gaze watchful, she let go of his softening cock. "I lived in the same house. We were a family of eight with two bathrooms. Logistics alone say we'd cross paths to and from the shared bathroom." Her voice was soft, soothing as if she calmed a wild beast. She massaged his chest in a soothing circular motion. She read him well, knew his raging emotions were buried under an icy facade.

  "And, face it," her lips quirked in a slight smile, "you guys are not all that shy about walking around in the nude with your dangly parts swaying in the breeze. So, yeah, I've seen my brothers' penises. But up close and personal?" She scrunched her nose. "Yuck. No." Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his chin. "Yours are the only dangly parts I want to be intimately acquainted with."

  "Okay, that's good." He let out the breath he'd held. His body shuddered as he throttled back the anger that seemed to lie just under the surface where Keely's welfare was concerned. He'd known deep in his gut her brothers had never abused her, but sometimes appearances could be deceiving. The world was often a sick place.

  "I know you want me, Keely." Cupping her face, he placed a light kiss on her lips, all rosy from his kisses. "And God knows, I want you so much I ache, but we're going to take this slow. No intercourse until we work our way through the vast array of foreplay first. You said it, I'm experienced and you're not. I don't want to hurt or scare you. I'm not a gentle lover, baby. I'm not sure I know how to be."

  "I think you're worrying too much."

  "And I think you've never had intercourse, so you don't really know how…rough it can get. Once I'm in your tight, sweet channel, I can't promise to go slow. I'd hurt you."

  Keely's narrowed gaze examined his face. After several seconds of intense scrutiny, she sighed and leaned her forehead on his chest. "Go. Take your shower. Beat off if you need to."

  He smiled at the disgruntled look he'd glimpsed on her face right before she buried it on his chest. It wasn't a sulky pout, but more the look of a kitten whose fur had been stroked the wrong way. He placed a kiss on the top of her curls. "Go on, baby. Take a nap. I'll join you once I take care of things in the bathroom."

  She rubbed her cheek against him. "Okay, but I'm going on record that I wanted sex and you didn't. So don't blame me later for any consequences."

  Thinking she alluded to the eternal hard-on he sported around her, he grinned. "Nope, not your problem. Just mine."

  Ren took the fastest shower on record. The image of Keely's hand on his cock and the memory of her taste in his mouth—and of her lips and teeth on his nipples—had him so erect, it had taken only a few strokes of his cock for him to come—and come—and come. Unfortunately, the climax had only taken the edge off his arousal. He was already semi-erect just thinking about licking her pussy.

  After drying off and with only a towel around his hips, he entered the bedroom. The bed was empty and Keely was nowhere in the room. "Keely," he called out as he entered the great room, figuring she might've gone to the kitchen for something to eat or drink. But she wasn't there either. He frowned. Had she gotten madder after he went into the bathroom? Had she left him? His stomach clenched at the thought, then he spied a note pad propped against a bowl of fruit on the kitchen island.

  Picking up the pad, he read: Ren—couldn't find what I needed here to take care of my itty-bitty vaginal opening and my needs, so I went over to the Lodge to hunt for the solution. Be back soon. Love, Keely.

  Cursing, he threw on some clothes. All the while images of one of his men, face obscured, fucking her sweet body, taking what belonged to him, flashed in front of his eyes. Letting out a roar, he stopped dressing and hit the wall with his fist, making a dent in the dry wall. His chest heaving, he hit the wall again.

  He shoved his bare feet into his boots and left his house without a coat. Running the fifty yards to the Lodge, he absently noted it was cold and blowing snow, but his rage kept him warm and moving. Who the fuck cared if he got pneumonia? Keely was letting some other man take care of her needs because he was too much of a fucking wimp to do it himself. God, he was a fucking idiot—and the man who accommodated her would be a dead one.

  "Keely!" He shouted as soon as he entered the Lodge. Ten heads turned to look at him. A wide range of emotions crossed the faces of those in the room. He didn't care what they thought. He had to find Keely and stop her. Spying her brother, he stormed over and lifted him out of a chair. "Where is she?"

  Tweeter shoved Ren's hands off him and stepped back. "Jesus, Ren. She's in the kitchen. Why?"

  "Kitchen?" She planned to lose her innocence in the kitchen? He looked toward the double doors. "Is she alone?"

  "I think so. Why? Is she in danger?"

  Ren shook his head. "Maybe. No. I don't know. What did she say when she came in?"

  Scotty, standing behind the bar, smirked. "Asked me something about vegetables—and then asked if I had a tape measure."

  "Vegetables? Tape measure?" A frown crossed Ren's face. "What the fuck does she need…? Ahh, shit!" She wouldn't—would she? Hell, yes, she would. Had she planned the note's wording to incite him? To have him come running over here like a crazy man? He'd bet on it. "Shit. Damn. Fuck." He shook his head. "I'm an idiot. I'm not gonna survive your sister." He shot Keely's brother an aggravated glare.

  Tweeter punched him on the arm. "Welcome to the club. All of my brothers and I have felt the same way for years." He paused, a look of what could only be sympathy on his face. "Want my advice?"

  "No…oh hell, yeah."

  "Give her what she wants—or she'll just go behind your back and get it herself."

  Ren shoved a shaky hand through his wet hair. "But what if what she wants will hurt her?"

  Tweeter plopped back into his chair. "Just keep in mind, she's smart and won't do anything to cause those she loves unnecessary pain or worry. I can't ever recall her asking us to let her do something she hadn't examined fro
m all angles."

  "What the fuck kind of answer is that? She still could get hurt."

  "Yeah, maybe. But she knows—and trusts—you'll protect her to the best of your ability. You'll learn, as we in her family have, to give in on those instances where the danger is mostly perceived and provide her back up and support when the danger is real." Tweeter smiled. "In my experience, I've found if the danger is real, Keely will be reasonable and actually step back and let me handle it. But she'll fight tooth and nail if I try to smother her just for the sake of establishing my male superiority. Understand?"

  "Yeah. I'm an idiot." Ren rubbed a shaky hand over his jaw then took a deep breath, glancing toward the doors to the kitchen. "Keep everyone out of the kitchen for awhile. I need to clear up some things."

  "Ren." A note in Tweeter's voice had him turning back.

  "Yeah?"

  "Don't underestimate her. She doesn't make idle statements. She may have already taken care of the, um, issue with the vegetable. Don't get mad or hurt her feelings, if she did. I'd hate to have to tromp you."

  "I'll never hurt her. I love her."

  "That's what I thought, but just wanted to clarify it for all present."

  Ren groaned. His gaze swept the room and found smiling and interested faces. He was pretty damn sure they all knew what was going on with the vegetable scenario. God, Keely was gonna kill him. He could handle the ribbing this incident would create, but he didn't want her to be embarrassed. He glared at the room's inhabitants. "Not one word to her. If any of you tease her about this, I'll hand your asses to you."

  "Well, hell, Ren, it's a little too late. The cat is out of that bag." Keely stood in the open doorway of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. She looked like Tinkerbell ready to take on Captain Hook and the pirates.

  He walked toward her, slowly. His gaze scanned her for blood—or something. She looked fine. Tired, but fine. She also had her poker face on again.