by Toni Blake
But in the time it had taken to have the conversation, Rachel’s body had started going crazy again. Because he wasn’t touching her or kissing her anymore. Her breasts burned for his hands, and the spot between her legs pulsed desperately.
Which meant…mother of God, what had she been thinking? “Wait, I was wrong. Let’s hurry!”
She reached for him again, back to being as eager as when they’d burst through the door—only to have Mike grasp both her wrists, holding her back. “No—you want to take our time, we’ll take our time.”
Oh brother. “Are you crazy? Since when do you listen to me? I clearly don’t know what I’m talking about.” And with that, she ripped her arms free and went for his waistband, hurriedly undoing his jeans and lowering the zipper.
But Mike grabbed her arms again. “Seriously—slow down, Farris.”
“I told you—I changed my mind. We can go slow later. Now I want fast.”
Her pleas didn’t matter, though—Mike just shook his head and sounded completely sure when he said, “Too late for that.”
Rachel drew in an aggravated breath—and ignored him. The second he released her from his grip, she reached for his jeans once more.
Only to have Mike grab back onto her wrists. “Fine,” he growled. “I’ll make you slow down.”
Oh yeah? She lifted her gaze to his, feeling challenged, and this time she couldn’t ignore the urge to fight back. “I’d like to see you make me do anything.”
In response, Mike did what he’d done once before—he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, carried her to the bedroom, and dropped her on the bed.
Okay, this was more like it. Now they were going to get down to business.
Breathing heavily, Rachel smiled eagerly up at him, sweet relief mingling with fervent anticipation inside her, until…he reached for something near his bedside table, grabbed her wrists yet one more time, pulled them up over her head, and—click.
She leaned back and looked up. Son of a bitch. He’d handcuffed her to the bed.
If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet
Fifteen
Mike took in her startled look, watching as it changed into something…better.
“Oh. Wow. Kinky,” she said.
He grinned. “Just slowing you down, Farris. You wanted to go slow, we’re going slow—whether you like it or not.”
She tilted her head, casting a saucy look. “Is this what you do to all speeders?”
“Only the hot ones.”
After that, Mike shed his thermal pullover and got on the bed.
Damn, she looked so pretty just lying there in her jeans and that sexy bra that cupped her round breasts so perfectly. Of course, she was right, the cuffs turned it kinky, but he’d just found out pretty and kinky could fit together nicely.
And it pleased him to see she looked a little more compliant now. Impatient still, but acceptant that she’d have to let him set the pace, make the decisions. In fact, as Mike unbuttoned her jeans, then slowly eased the zipper down, he realized that…this was letting him take back some control. He’d had a great time with her at the bonfire, but he needed to get a little control back here—so tonight, he’d control the sex, like this. For a little while anyway.
“Lift up,” he told her softly, then tugged the denim to her thighs and off. Underneath, she wore the sexiest little lavender panties he’d ever seen—a combination of lace and silk, they matched the bra and hugged her slender hips. He let out a low groan at the sight. Then he said, “Turn over, honey.”
He’d hooked the cuffs around one thin wrought iron bar on his headboard, so she could easily roll. Her eyes looked skeptical, but she wordlessly obeyed his command. He’d wanted to see her panties from the back, and that’s when he found out she actually wore a thong. A lavender bow decorated the tiny piece of lingerie, as if tying the scant bits of fabric together. “Damn,” he murmured.
“What?” she asked, even though he couldn’t see her face.
“Your ass.”
In response, she wiggled it.
And he groaned some more. After which he reached down both hands to begin massaging her backside.
He heard her light intake of breath as she instantly arched toward him. “That’s nice,” she nearly purred.
“See now, aren’t you glad I slowed you down?”
“Well…I have mixed emotions. Part of me is still frantic inside, but…mmm…” Though she didn’t bother to finish the sentiment, he understood it perfectly. So he molded her gorgeous bottom in his hands for a few long and lingering minutes.
Soon, though, he gently rolled her back over and, lowering a gentle kiss to her belly button, drew those hot little panties down. Then he went to remove her bra, but before he even touched it, they both realized…“You can’t get it completely off me while I’m cuffed to your bed, can you?” she said mockingly. As if that was really going to ruin his plans for her.
“A minor tactical error,” he assured her, then smoothly curled his fingers into both cups of the bra and tugged downward. Her sweet breasts tumbled free as she sucked in her breath. Damn, they were beautiful, her nipples so pink and hard, and Mike instinctively framed them within his hands, then bent to kiss and suckle them. He kept things nice and slow, though—which soon had her begging.
“Please, Mike,” she whispered.
“Please what, honey?”
“Please…inside me…now.”
He wanted that, too. He was dying for that. So he didn’t refuse her anymore. But he also didn’t speed up any. He simply rose to his knees and undid his jeans, pushing them down while she watched. Her eyes locked on the erection still hidden in his underwear and her hungry look made him want to explode. “Please,” she said again.
“Shhhh,” he soothed her. “We’re getting there.”
When his pants and briefs were gone, he slowly parted her legs and positioned himself there, sitting back on his knees. Her breath came rough—and he realized his own breath had grown labored somewhere along the way, too.
Finally, he lifted her to him and slid deep into her warmth. They both let out hot sighs and—hell, his whole body tingled, from his scalp to the tips of his fingers and toes.
This was…this was different. He didn’t know why, couldn’t explain it. But somehow, every time he was with her it grew more powerful. Now, he was inside her, unmoving, their gazes locked, and he felt more contented than ever in his life—but also as if his body might burst apart any minute.
And then he began to thrust. Slow. Agonizingly slow. Because Rachel was right—slow was good. Slow was fucking fantastic. He remained upright on the bed—he anchored his hands at her hips as he drove into her moisture, and she let out a low, lingering moan with each steamy stroke.
The problem was—going slow was getting damn hard. He wanted to pound wildly into her soft flesh now. He wanted to make her scream. But going slow was also…delicious torture. For both of them. Rachel thrashed against the sheets, teeth clenched. And at some point Mike’s body actually began to shudder.
Until finally he said, “Damn it, I can’t go slow anymore,” and began to plunge into her, harder, faster. She cried out, her eyes dropping shut, and Mike got lost in the pure driving heat as she met each thrust. They moved together that way for a long while before exhaustion eventually gripped him, forcing him to go still. And then he even pulled out, because he didn’t want to come yet, and being inside her right now, despite not moving, was threatening to make that happen. Hell, even handcuffed to a bed, this woman managed to steal his self-restraint.
“I want to be uncuffed,” Rachel said then. She’d been so docile there for a few minutes that it almost caught him off guard.
“Why should I?” he asked, half teasing, half serious. “I like having you where I want you.”
Below him, she sensually bit her lower lip. “Because…there are things I want to do to you that I can’t like this.”
&
nbsp; That’s when her gaze dropped to his erection. And he knew what she wanted to do. His limbs went weak.
“Oh,” he murmured, a little stunned, a lot excited. “Okay.” And he tried not to race to uncuff her—but still, race he did, moving across the bed to find the key on his police belt hanging over one side of the headboard.
As soon as both her hands were loose, he said, “All right. Feel free to have your way with me.”
But she didn’t look the least bit playful as she said, “Lie down.”
And suddenly Mike didn’t feel playful, either. He’d tried to be, just for a minute—yet somehow this had turned…intense and serious in a way that had his chest tightening all over again, not to mention other harder parts, as he met her sexy gaze. She wanted him to lie down? He’d lie down.
As he reclined next to her, she sat up, her eyes returning to where he remained stiff and ready. She studied him so intently that he had to concentrate on breathing evenly, and it still came out shaky.
Finally, she situated herself the same as he had before, with her—parting his legs, she moved between them. Then she wrapped one firm fist around him—making him shudder again, just briefly—and leaned over to drag her tongue across the tip. He moaned as the pleasure swept through him like a brief but powerful storm. Then he watched as she bent again and this time sank her mouth over him.
He hissed in his breath, then cursed. And as she began to move, he heard himself telling her how beautiful she was, how amazing this felt, what a perfect lover she was. And shit, he was shaking again, damn it, trembling—as her ministrations echoed wildly through his whole body. He lay there basking in it, moaning as it stretched all through him, watching her every move—and as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he had to: Giving up control could be more than good. It could be astounding.
After a blissfully long while, she pulled back, releasing him. Her lips looked prettily swollen, and Mike told her exactly what he was thinking. “God, you’re good at that.”
She offered up a surprisingly timid smile in reply.
And he couldn’t resist a teasing look. “If I’d known you were so good at that…”
“What?” she asked when he trailed off.
He sat up, cracked a grin. “Maybe I would have been nicer. Sooner.”
She gave her head a coquettish tilt. “Lucky for you, you stuck around long enough to earn it.”
“How did I earn it?”
She shrugged then, giving him a playful grin of her own. “You gave me a hoody earlier when I was cold.”
“That’s all it takes? Then I should start carrying hoodies everywhere I go.”
She smiled, but as their eyes connected, the smile faded…into something more serious, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s not all it takes.”
Mike’s chest constricted as he lifted a hand to her face. “I know,” he replied.
She looked a little surprised and said, “How do you know?”
“Because you told me the first time we were together that you don’t usually have sex that soon. And because this is the first time you’ve done this. So I know this is…special,” he finished.
Rachel nearly couldn’t breathe. Because of what he’d just said. About what she’d just done being special. Because it really was.
It was hardly the first time she’d done that to a guy, but before now, it had always been like a lot of her sex up to now…about expectation, about wanting to be the bold, wild Rachel everyone knew. This was maybe the first time she’d done it when she’d felt the true intimacy of it. The first time she’d done it because she wanted to express her feelings for a guy in some new way she hadn’t before. The first time it meant something.
The fact was, sex with a man she cared for was making all other sex pale in comparison. No wonder sex with Mike had been the best of her life from the very start—caring for him had been…destiny.
Destiny in Destiny.
Even now, as he kissed her, as their faces lingered together, their cheeks touching, she felt closer to him than she’d known was possible.
“I want back inside you,” he rasped in her ear.
The words stretched all through her, igniting her desires anew. “I want that, too.”
She wanted it enough that she pushed him back in the bed. Because sometimes she really was bold Rachel. And with Mike, well…it seemed like she could be whatever she felt like in any given moment.
As she straddled his hips and sank down onto him, it felt like coming home. She rode him that way until she reached a spectacular orgasm, and only seconds later, he came, too—hard, nearly lifting her from the bed.
Destiny in Destiny, she thought again as she slumped against him, tired, replete. In that moment, she was almost sorry she couldn’t stay. Almost sorry she couldn’t let herself fall completely in love with Mike Romo.
Later, they lay in bed snacking on some Oreos Mike had found in his cabinet after deciding he was hungry. Of course, it left dark crumbs in the bed and Rachel was surprised Officer Romeo would allow it, but he didn’t seem to mind. That, plus the fact that he’d technically broken the law to have sex with her a couple of times, made her think maybe hanging out with her was loosening him up—just a little.
On the other hand, now that he was loosening up, she feared she might be…well, going in the opposite direction. Because somehow, she was starting to care about things she never had before. “I’m glad you remember,” she began, a bit uncertainly, “about my telling you I…don’t fool around with just every guy. Because despite the impression I’ve probably given you, I really don’t.”
Mike stopped eating and met her gaze, his look turning serious. “You don’t need to tell me this, Farris. Because I just told you, I already get that. And…I wouldn’t judge you on that anyway. I’m not exactly celibate myself.”
She knew Mike had been with a lot of girls, and to her surprise, it even made her jealous. And she also knew she didn’t have to tell him anything about her sex life, but for some reason, she wanted to. Because she knew her friends saw her as someone who had a lot of casual sex, so she figured Mike did, too. And she’d seldom given a damn about anyone’s opinion of her morals—but now, somehow, it mattered to her. Even much more than it had that first night they were together. “I…just want to explain that…well, I’ve never had any lengthy relationships, but…almost all the guys I’ve slept with are men who I knew pretty well, from being in the same social circle, having friends in common, that sort of thing.”
“And…?”
She shook her head, bit her lip, stared at the sheets around her torso. “I just wanted you to know. I’m not your typical sweet, nice Destiny girl…but I’m not a slut, either.” She swallowed, saying the word. She’d never defended herself this way before, never even thought in those terms.
And Mike suddenly looked mad. “Who called you a slut?”
Her eyes shot open wide. “Nobody. Calm down. I just…don’t want you to think of me that way.” Lord, there, that got to the heart of the matter. She suddenly did care what someone thought of her morals, and it was Mike Romo.
Mike lowered his chin, peering intently over at her, looking serious. “Listen,” he said, his voice soft, deep, comforting, “I would never think of you that way. I thought I kind of just told you that, before, when we were…you know.”
She nodded, bit her lip. Now she felt dumb for even bringing it up, like she’d let him see an insecure side of her, a side she hadn’t even known she possessed up until this moment. “I guess it’s just the whole small town thing. It’s making me care what people think or something.”
Mike simply shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about that, Farris. Besides—sweet Destiny girls don’t really do it for me. Never have.” Then he laughed lightly. “They’re all afraid of me.”
Rachel felt a small smile form on her lips. “Lucky for me, I don’t scare easily.”
And Mike’s mouth quirked into an ironic grin. “Lucky for me, too.”
>
Okay, enough of this girlish worry—too much of it, actually. Reassured now, she decided it was a good time to change the subject. And the conversation had provided a perfect segue. “Speaking of…Lucky, tell me about him.” She was still curious to learn more about Mike’s life, which included his family. And the fact that they were all Romos meant less and less to her all the time.
“What do you mean?” he asked, drawing another Double Stuf from the wrapper.
“Well, you told me about Anna, but I don’t know anything about Lucky. Except that he left town at some point.” And, of course, from back in high school, that he’d always been in trouble—but not in the same way she had. For Rachel, it had been mischief and making out with boys; for Lucky, it had been things more like drugs and alcohol.
Mike looked a little sad as he replied. “We were close as kids, but after Anna disappeared, it all changed. We grew apart—I’m not sure why.” He shook his head, then met her gaze. “Lucky became the black sheep of the family, and…this’ll sound awful, but in a way, it was almost a relief when he was gone. I heard from a guy in Crestview that he’d run into Lucky a few years after he left home—that he’d joined some outlaw biker gang in California.” Mike sighed, looking troubled, and maybe a little disgusted. “I still miss him, he’s still my brother, but…I miss the old him, I miss the little kid I played with in the backyard.”
She couldn’t resist flashing a skeptical look, teasing him. “Yeah, because Officer Romeo is such a fun-loving guy.”
He simply raised his eyebrows. “I can be. I think you know that.”
“At moments,” she conceded, biting into a cookie.
Propped up on his elbow, Mike tilted his head and actually looked wistful. “I guess I quit having much fun after Anna, guess it toughened me up. But you have to be tough to be a good cop.”
“You were pretty damn mean when you pulled me over,” she reminded him.
“You were pretty much of a smart-ass when I pulled you over.”