by Sivad, Gem
So the clerk told him who I was. As stories went, his had a few snarls in it. She thought about the fly fisherman as she hunted for the right address.
The house turned out to be an easy find in an upscale suburb. She parked her Harley next to the Volvo in the drive and got down to business. The daughter led her into a place filled with gloom.
“He’ll love to see you.” The voice was artificially chipper, not really hopeful of anything more than a half hour of someone else worrying about Dad while she grabbed a moment alone.
Miz touched her arm. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Mr. Ogliah’s daughter brightened as she led the way to his room. It didn’t take long for Mr. Ogliah to take the edge off Miz’s simmering burn. He was sick. An aura of doom surrounded him. He slumped.
“It’s pretty outside today.” She crossed to where he sat staring out the window, laid her hands on his shoulders and began to rub.
“You ride that contraption of yours here?”
“Sure did. The wind felt good against my face.”
“Elliot wants one of those things. I say they’re dangerous.” He sat straighter, letting her stroke her hand down his spine as she pressed her fingers on key points.
“Yep, they can be tricky if you don’t use good sense.” She concentrated on his shoulders while he assured her his grandson had more than his share of good sense.
“He’s going to be an engineer, you know.” Yes, she knew. Mr. Ogliah mentioned it each time he spoke of Elliot.
“Have you been taking your medicine?”
“Of course,” he answered defensively and she knew he hadn’t.
“Why don’t you stretch out on the bed and let me massage your back.”
“I feel better already.” He stood and smiled. His slump was gone. He flexed his arm and grinned. “Almost good as new.”
She patted his shoulder. “I promise I’ll be gentle when I have my way with you.” She gave him a playful leer and he slipped out of his shirt and stretched across the mattress, situating his frame slowly.
“You’re stiff. Maybe a little sore from the stress on your body. Just relax while I tweak your parts.”
It was a joke she told all the old dears who wondered about their sudden improved flexibility. “Just a tweak here and there, a tune-up now and then,” she’d explain. They didn’t question. Most nodded and didn’t wonder long about how the tweaking worked. They didn’t care. They were just glad that it did.
And so was she. Her gift was an odd thing. She gave for the most part, but she took too. The giving kept her stable, the taking—well, taking made her burn and writhe with power, as if untapped energy lay inside her waiting to escape.
She massaged Mr. Ogliah’s back, centering her hand over his heart before she closed her eyes. His blood crawled slowly through arteries and veins. Her fingers danced across his skin, tracing a vein along its path. She skipped forward, jumping ahead to clear obstacles from the trail. He groaned.
“You know, Mr. Ogliah, if you don’t take that blood thinner the doctor prescribed, you’re not going to get to see Elliot graduate.” Elliot was the center of his world. The kid was off at college and Mr. Ogliah was pining.
“Maybe when you’re strong again, you can go visit him.” She pressed harder on his back, spreading her heat, purging the obstructions, opening a partially clogged vein and clearing his arteries. Along with a little extra heat, she planted a few ideas in his head.
* * * * *
It was seven fifteen when she hit the road home. Long day, extra money, hot man waiting with a steak to feed me. Things were looking up. She snickered, remembering up. She hadn’t needed to measure his hands to see he was huge or to know he was damn proud of his size.
The heat inside her core intensified. It had been a while since she’d had a lover—too long a while. But she’d already laid hands on this man, pretty damn near all over his body too. He didn’t hold any big secrets or nightmares he’d want to tell her. She smiled. She had a date.
She stopped at a convenience store and picked up creamer and other breakfast supplies before she crossed the mountain. You never know, I might need to cook for two in the morning. She grabbed a box of condoms too. Who was she kidding? That had been above the creamer on her list.
She was home by seven thirty, in the shower by seven thirty-five, drying her hair by seven forty-five and doing her nails by eight o’clock. Goose walking on her heels to keep from smearing the ruby polish, she went outside, sat in the Adirondack chair and propped her feet on the railing of the porch. As the last rays of the day baked the gloss on her toes, she admired her home pedicure and considered the fly fisherman’s story. When it was dry, she stood and sighed. Mr. Hunter didn’t always speak truth. But he was hot and so was she. One night of fun wouldn’t make any difference in the long run.
She stalked to her closet and glared inside. She’d left the most difficult decision until last. What to wear? Cargo pants and boots, her usual bike gear, just didn’t cut it. She settled for shorts, a tank top and looked grimly at her feet.
No way was she riding the Harley without boots on. Besides, if she ended up kicking the cook’s ass, she wanted hard leather for impact. Lime-green cowboy boots that cost more than her whole wardrobe screamed “wear us”. She stomped her feet in and strode to her bike, suddenly feeling sexy as hell.
It didn’t occur to her until she was halfway to his place that she might as well have slapped a sign on her forehead reading “Ye-haw, pardner, I’m ready to ride”.
The aroma of grilled steak reached her when she hit the end of his drive. The rented cabin was in good shape. Shep Buchanan, the owner, was a local boy gone from home most of the time on business. Nobody seemed to know what his business was.
Nobody really cared either. He had a house by Point Harmony Lake and threw a big party whenever he was in town. The community counted on him for a fireworks show on the Fourth of July. He had money. Around here, that was pretty much the gold standard for character.
A motion sensor kicked on and the last part of her ride was illuminated, although branches blocked it in areas, leaving zones of shadow to pass through. Creepy. She felt as though she was riding into a cave as she approached Shep’s cabin. She forgot about the foliage that needed to be clipped when she saw the hunk of muscle leaning on the porch rail watching her arrival. She parked, put her helmet on the seat and walked up the steps.
“Smells good,” she said. He had on shorts. She’d already seen his chest earlier in the day but feasted her eyes on the quintessential male physique again. Just the right amount of bulk in his arms, muscular abs, hard stomach muscles. Her gaze drifted lower, disappointed when no conspicuous bulge flaunted itself.
“You want to eat now?” His voice was a deep rasp. “Or do you want to work up a sweat first?” His question hung in the air between them, leaving her in no doubt about what waited behind curtain number two if that was her choice.
Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, lust almost muting her answer. “Sweat now. Eat later.”
He threw her a towel, wrapped another around his neck and said, “I hoped you’d say that.”
He grinned wickedly at her and his eyes mirrored the amber color of the bulb overhead. He pointed at the door. “This time you go first and I’ll ogle your ass.”
Busted. She hoped her appreciation of his torso had been less obvious. She grinned, letting her hips sway just a little more than usual and her legs stretch a little farther than natural. She felt her breasts bounce under the tank top and was glad she’d left off a bra. Her nipples were hard peaks rivaling his hard-on earlier in the day. She wrapped the towel around her neck, letting the ends dangle over the two perky tips, and walked through the entrance into his cabin.
“Nice furnishings,” she drawled. One big mat covered the middle of the floor. Nothing else.
“Yes. I saw you take on those two in the parking lot and thought you might enjoy sparring with me.”
A lie. She’d seen hi
s SUV today and that vehicle hadn’t been in the convenience store parking lot last night. How did he know about her fight? She uneasily remembered the feel of eyes watching her the night before.
What the fuck? Was this guy stalking her? She tightened her grip on the towel and scowled at him. “I hope you are a martial artist or something, because a man should feel like he has a fightin’ chance when I kick his ass.” She would wipe the mat with him and work off her frustrations that way. Dammit.
Pleasure in the evening diminished as unresolved lust made her even tenser. She burned from the inside out and wanted to fuck. But it was time to go home. He moved and stood between her and the door.
He shrugged. “Let’s keep it simple.” He shifted slightly, just enough to block the exit even better. “Last one with a stitch on wins.”
She looked at his single article of clothes, his shorts, and the bulge that had been inconspicuous before. It was no longer a hinted presence. It was the prow of a ship, pointing directly at her.
“Pretty confident?” Cocky bastard thought he could strip boots, shorts, tank top and a towel off her before she could jerk down his fancy boxers.
She relaxed, flexing her muscles, loosening the joints in elbows, hips and knees. For effect, she cracked her knuckles. “Let the games begin.”
“Kiss before the fight. That way when I strip you bare you won’t mind so much.”
Why, the arrogant s.o.b. “Pucker up and lay it on me, beast,” she invited him. He paused and drew back for a moment, then he flashed his teeth at her and nodded.
His stride was so damn sexy when he crossed the floor her insides quivered. She admired the smooth glide, trying to figure out if it was the way he held his knees or set his feet.
“Kiss?” He stood in front of her, his hands remaining on his towel, waiting for permission.
Take control of the situation. Miz leaned toward him and brushed her lips across his. His teeth nipped her bottom lip. She gasped at the sharp sting. His tongue came from nowhere and licked the spot, then made its way into her mouth. She teetered, let go of her towel, steadied herself with her hands flat against his chest and sucked his tongue.
His hands came up, caught her shoulders, then moved to the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, angling her face for his best penetration. Miz slid her palms up his chest, feeling the heavy heartbeat on her way over the rippling pecs. He licked the inside of her mouth, tasting her and purring sounds of pleasure that turned her on. She didn’t want him to stop when he finally pulled away.
He was breathing hard, amber points of light flickering in his eyes, and his expression was almost feral when he finally broke contact and stepped back. He held her towel in his hand and smirked. She waved his back at him, satisfied to see the smug expression disappear.
“First match—even,” he growled and stalked to the corner of the mat.
Yep, he has a fine ass.
Chapter Five
Thomas didn’t know what was going on with the power thing between them but the kiss rocked him to the core. His cock was so hard he was afraid if she kicked him in the groin it might break off. His jaguar, on the other hand, was on the prowl. Fur rippled under Thomas’ skin and his teeth ached. The beast wanted to bite and taste her again. So did Thomas.
“Nice boots.”
“Thank you,” she said, waiting patiently in the center of the mat. “I aim to give you a closer look real soon.”
He held up his hand and motioned with two fingers. “Bring it on, sweetheart.” But he was the one who moved, drawn to her like a bee to honey. She crackled with energy. He circled her, the cat in him sizing her up as though she were prey. He wondered just how fast she was and tested her.
His leap carried him too close for her to get any leverage behind the kick, but damn if she didn’t whirl away and land leather in the backspin. The blow hit his shoulder with a force that would have felled a normal man.
Pretending to wince, he flexed his shoulder, acknowledging the strike. “Might need a massage when we’re through.”
“The place you frequented today—it’s booked full. Won’t be no more walk-ins taken there for a while.” Her voice was husky as she drawled her rejection.
He ignored her oblique message and delivered his own. “You’ll like it when I get you on your back. After that, you’ll let me walk in and out when I damned well want.” He taunted her, circling, darting toward her, trying to ruffle her enough to get through. He’d changed his mind. He didn’t want a long, prolonged bout of foreplay. He wanted to fuck her. Now.
“You some kind of sex fiend?” she asked.
“Do you want me to be? I like sex. A lot of it. Often. How about you?”
She shifted her stance and went airborne, landing her heel on his chin. Ouch. His head snapped back and his beast went crazy. He caught the next kick and pulled her toward him, holding her boot secure in one hand and tilting her leg higher, stretching its length. She didn’t make the mistake of leaning backward and giving up her balance. She pushed her foot at him, leveraging as much strength as she could. Before she could jerk loose, he had her boot off.
Her nails were painted red. She wiggled her foot and flexed her toes. His cat pounced at the new toy and nipped her big toe, then licked. Her foot jerked in his hand and she struggled like crazy trying to get free. It was too late. He’d already had a taste.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded and grabbed his head, looking for hair to pull. When she found no purchase there, she grabbed his shoulders, her nails biting deep.
He licked the side of her foot.
“I sweat in my boots, you moron. Turn me loose, that’s gross.”
“No it isn’t.” He purred his assurance and nibbled his way up the arch of her foot. “I like the taste of your sweat.” He flicked his tongue over a point of interest and sucked. She squirmed, the scent of her arousal beckoning him.
Would you look at that? He’d caught her foot in his hand and popped her open as if she were a clam.
Miz was stunned. Her chest heaved, pulling the material of the tank taut across her breasts. Her nipples were perky buttons decorating the front. Her shorts pulled tight against one hip, the other leg opening gapped. She twisted. He lifted her leg higher.
“So? You didn’t answer me? How do you like your sex? Fast and hard or slow and easy?” He flashed her a sly grin. “We’ll do both and you can decide.”
God, he was strong. She wiggled, trying to muscle loose. But her gyrations didn’t do anything but amuse him. He held her spread-eagled as though she were a wishbone. While she watched, appalled, he cradled her foot and nuzzled his way up her ankle, nipping his way past her knee, stopping when he reached her inner thigh to nibble. Her core temperature hit meltdown and she conceded.
She grabbed the condom out of her back pocket. Be prepared. Her motto.
“I want you in me,” she told him. “Now.”
In two seconds she was on her back, her pants hanging around the ankle of one lime boot, his shorts discarded and his cock dressed and saying hello. She dug her heels into the mat and shoved her hips high, taking him in what she intended to be a fast thrust to her core.
He grabbed her ass and tilted her, helping her on their agreed mission. His thick length stretched the walls of her pussy almost painfully. It hurt so good she wanted more. She wanted fast and hard. For a long time.
Miz raked her nails down his back and he growled his approval. His muscles rippled under her deep scratches. Returning the favor, he shoved her top above her breasts and bit her right nipple. His teeth closed on it, tugging at the end until she moaned. Then he licked away the sting. Good, so good. She bucked under him, taking another inch of cock and holding on to his head, encouraging him to visit her other breast.
Her insides trembled around him as her sheath hugged his dick. He nudged deeper and she couldn’t control her shriek of delight when he touched her sweet spot. She arched, rotating her pelvis and giving him a one-of-a-kind lap dance. Her hips
rolled and she spread her thighs, rocking under him until he touched that place again. The spot guaranteed to make her come. The spot she’d only visited on her own.
“Do it,” she ordered him. He withdrew and slammed home. And did it again. And again. Tapping her right where it counted.
Miz locked her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as his thrusts moved her, scraping her back across the mat. Her breasts flattened against his chest, catching his sweat and mixing it with her own.
He pulled out and she moaned a protest. He flipped her over and pulled her ass up, filling her from behind. Not to be outdone, she shoved backward, taking more of him.
He didn’t talk. Thank God. She didn’t much care for a running monologue. Some men couldn’t shut up, even when their dicks were busy. She heard only grunts and growls as Thomas handled her, both rough and careful at the same time. Gasping for breath, she looked over her shoulder and met his gaze. His expression was wild, almost feral, his eyes glinting with savage heat.
She came hard, her insides squeezing him tight, milking his length. He huffed, pulling her up on his lap, his groin plastered to her rear, his cock seated even deeper.
Her back was against his chest, her thighs on either side of his. Again he had her spread wide for his pleasure. He stroked her clit, making her climax ripple and grow, pulling ecstasy from her core and sending it to every nerve ending near and far. She slumped against him and he held her, purring his approval in her ear. Then he dropped his head, bit her neck and heat exploded inside her. She came again.
She was still recovering from the double O when he pulled out, laid her on her back and propped her legs over his shoulders. Oh my God! He took his time, lapping her cream as if it were ambrosia. He stroked two fingers in and out of her pussy while he sucked her clit, finally pulling on it with his teeth then kissing the sting away. Another climax crashed over her and she screamed and bucked under his mouth.