Handled 2

by S. E. Hall

  He matches my erotic tempo, our tongues dancing in sync as he uses shallow thrusts to work his rigid length into me. My teeth graze the length of his tongue as he pulls back, breaking our kiss to catch his breath on a throaty grunt when he's fully embedded, balls flush against my skin.

  I grip hold and squeeze his ass, pivoting my hips to gain friction because the man's not even moving, just holding completely still inside me. I open my eyes, meeting the unexpected tenderness in his. "Come on, move." I grind myself harder, needing him to start pumping, aggravation setting in when he doesn't respond. "Vaughn, fuck me already. Now."

  "Question."

  "Um," I wriggle underneath him, desperate and unashamed, "can it wait?"

  "Nope," he quips with a fast peck on my lips. "Aside from the whole wreck fluke, would you agree things go better when you listen to me?" He's smirking. His rock hard dick is tickling my tonsils and he's fucking smirking!

  "If I say yes, will you give it to me good?"

  "Yeeesss," he drawls.

  "Then yes! Absolutely, 100%, yes!"

  "Ah, thanks babe." Another kiss. "Right answer."

  And he gives it to me…so damn good…but not my way. His palm traces down my arm, snaring my hand and weaving our fingers together, something completely new and again, unexpected. I don't fight it, though, not when his cock, sliding provocatively slow in and out of me, feels so fucking amazing.

  His free hand gently grips my chin, tilting my head up, demanding my eyes tangle with his. There's no more kissing, no more talking, and for the first time in my life, it's not needed. I feel completely free, lost in the deep blue pools watching me, wanting me, treasuring me. It's suddenly too much and strangely revealing, so I slam my eyes shut, needing an escape from the vulnerability he's uncovered.

  "Don't," he murmurs. His breath hot against my lips, but he doesn't kiss me. "Let go, Paige. Trust me."

  His words aren't rough and demanding or pleading and whining, they're real and sincere and before I can stop it, they shatter right through the last wall protecting my timid, pessimistic heart. My eyes peel open, focusing solely on him, and before I can fuck things up with some inappropriately timed remark, he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

  I don't need it, though. He won this round and I refuse to dwell on what exactly that means. Instead I press my lips to his and let go of every last fear.

  By the time we both succumb to sweaty, sated exhaustion, the last thought to drift through my sleepy mind is—

  I think Vaughn Stone just made love to me.

  Chapter 7

  I wake entwined with the delicious and comforting naked body beside me. His pillow is his balled up t-shirt, mine the nook of his arm… A better night's sleep in my entire life isn't ringing any bells. I take this time to get a good look at him while he's unaware and at peace, and it's even better than yesterday's shower shot. I study each chiseled contour of his handsome face, his broad, defined shoulders and pecs, and with an accidental slip of the sleeping bag, his tapered waist and the deep cuts of his oblique muscles.

  He's beautiful without trying, or talking, or throwing in that irresistible charisma—it's simply fact. And he's taken better care of me than anyone else ever has, myself included. The foreign sense of security has me snuggling in closer, pressing a light, soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

  "Mmm." He starts to rouse, sleepy eyes opening to greet me along with a lazy smile. "Morning." He rolls on his side and tucks me tighter against him. "How you feeling?"

  "Too good for being stranded in a cabin after a truck wreck and accidental ice-skating. You?" I play with the light dusting of hair on his chest.

  "Even better." His kisses my forehead. "Hungry?"

  "Well, yeah, but we don't have any more food. Do we?" I sit up, looking over his shoulder to the empty water bottle and wrapper- he caved. "Since you won that argument about not eating the other half." I tickle his sides, quickly losing control when he takes it, placing me under him effortlessly and hovering over me.

  "And she's back. Sharp and sassy." He laughs, covering my mouth with his in a ravenous kiss, running his fingers through my hair and guiding my head to the angle he wants.

  His cocks hardens against my flesh and I mewl into his mouth, pushing my pelvis up to invite him in for more. Never breaking his ministrations on my lips, he lines up expertly and eases inside.

  "Oh." My spine bows, his chest hairs grazing my nipples.

  "Sore?" he asks in my mouth.

  "Not too," I groan back. "Feels so good."

  "Fuck yeah it does." He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth, the rigidity of him growing impossibly inside me.

  We again make unhurried, tender passion to each other, the shift as overwhelming as last night but still unspoken. And after, we don't immediately fall back into our routine of sarcastic push and pull but rather swap easy, companionable stories into the late afternoon. The crackling glow in the old fireplace mixed with the constant flare of heat between us creates more than enough warmth, and by the time my eyelids start sagging, I've counted eleven new facts I know about Vaughn Stone, and just as many I shared.

  "Paige." My dream fades under the arms shaking me. "Paige, come on."

  "What?" I grumble, blinking open my eyes. It's night. Why the hell is he waking me now? "I'm tired, no round…whatever. Go back to sleep."

  His amused rumble is joined by a soft kiss. "I know, babe, but you might want to see this."

  "I've seen it," I yawn, "very impressive."

  "It is, isn't it? Not what I meant, though." I yelp when he lightly smacks my ass. "Get up."

  "This better be good, Stone," I warn as I sit up and stretch, brazen in my nudity.

  "Gonna need these." He hands me my clothes and once I'm dressed, holds out his hand to help me up and leads me to the kitchen. On a cardboard table—he fashioned out of God knows what that he found God knows where—sits an even more pitiful looking, dented can of what may be chicken noodle soup, open with a spoon sticking out.

  "Sit and eat." He pulls out the chair for me with a proud smile and gleaming eyes. Is he crazy? And where did he find soup in this shack? Slowly, my head turns to the table propped in front of the skunk den, a.k.a. pantry.

  He went back in! And expects me to ingest what he found?

  "How'd you get in there without being attacked or sprayed or whatever the fuck angry skunks do?

  "It's called stealth, babe, now eat. I know you're starving."

  "Yeah, I'm gonna pass." No way am I fucking eating that. The spoon alone is probably covered in pick-a-vermin-feces, complementing the tetanus perfectly.

  "Sit your ass down and eat."

  "No, that's disgusting, Vaughn! It's bad enough being trapped here. The last thing I need is a food poisoning bonus, or actual death. I'd say I've run out of free passes on the tempting it, wouldn't you?" I cross my arms over my chest.

  His smile drops, anger bristling from his suddenly stiff posture. All because I don't want to eat that shit?

  He tears his gaze from mine deliberately and walks to the main door, opening it and letting in an arctic blast of winter night air, revealing the melting snow dripping from the overhang.

  "Blizzard's dying down. It won't be long until a search party's formed. Then you won't be trapped with me anymore." His stare turns glacial, colder than the icicles that crash on the porch when he slams the door shut. "How shitty of me for wanting to make sure you didn't pass out from starvation before then! My bad, princess!" With that, he stalks back toward me.

  "Princess? What the hell crawled up your ass?"

  His eyes grow darker, nostrils flaring. "Yes, I found the can in the damn pantry, but feel free to double check the expiration date, Inspector Fancy Pants. And the spoon? I scrubbed the fuck out of it for the last twenty minutes, just for you! Man, what a dick I am. Not sure how I live with myself."

  Confused and irritated, I follow on his heels when he turns and stomps away. "
You can't seriously be pissed at me for not wanting to risk puking my guts out!" I scream. "This place has no running water or functioning bathroom—can you paint the pretty picture?"

  "You really think I'd let that happen?" He whips around. "I ate half the can first and feel fine."

  "Good, now if you stay that way for a few hours, maybe I'll give it a try."

  He leans in, directly in front of me, his breath surprisingly minty. Is that gum he has in there? It better not be gum, dammit! Clearly not the time to ask, though.

  "I thought you finally trusted me?"

  "I do!" I throw up my hands. Wait, what? Shit, I think I mean it. "But I'm not eating rat shit to prove it. I'm drawing the line there, buddy!"

  "Right." He moves suffocatingly close, his chest against mine, forcing me to look up into his glowering eyes. "I think the second we're out of this place and you're no longer stuck with me, you'll go back to pretending I don't exist. Pretending this spark between us is nothing more than a passing fling, buddy." He gently grips my chin and raises my head the moment I lower it. "There's something here, between us. Don't fucking fight it or ruin it with your stubborn fear! Tell me, promise me, that when we get back home you'll be mine, that you'll give this a real chance. I need to hear it, Paige."

  Nervous and once again exposed with his verbal pinpoint, I tug my face away from his hold and retreat a few steps for some air. "Vaughn."

  "No! I won't let you fuck this up. I talked to Amelia. She told me about your mother, the way you grew up. How you don't believe in love."

  At that my head jerks up. "You think this is love? I hardly know you!"

  A bitter laugh falls from him. "I didn't say that, but if you run without giving this a chance, I know we'll both fucking regret it. I want more, Paige, and I'm not backing down 'til I get it. "

  I tug my bottom lip between my teeth and chew, unsure how to respond. "I'm not a princess. I'm logical."

  When I peek back up, he's smiling, and it takes everything I have not to return it. My everything isn't enough, though, because I fail miserably, leaning into his palms with a tiny grin when he cups my face.

  "Yeah, you are, and I want more than anything for you to have faith in me to be logical too. Let me in, Paige." He's searching my eyes and when I don't reply he adds, "I'll make a deal with you. If I fuck this up, you get one shot at me."

  I rear back. "What?"

  "Just keep the bullets away from my boys and my face. Anywhere else is fair game. Deal?"

  How can I not beam at that? "Interesting choices." I snicker. "You think of your balls before, say, your heart? You sure sound confident."

  "Hell yeah, I am. You're made for me, Firecracker. I'll prove that to you soon enough."

  "Well then, what are you waiting for?"

  He wins and he knows it. Somehow he's snuck into a place inside me no one else ever has, a lonely place that seems to like him there. I'm all in, ready to worry about my possible happiness over anyone else's and I must be making that clear because he's on me in an instant, hands tugging at my clothes, holding me tight as we crash against the wall.

  "Gonna fuck you so goddamn good you won't be able to walk when they find us," he grunts, mouth to my ear, hands kneading my breasts.

  I rip his jeans down and I'm actually giggling, something I have no recollection of ever doing before, when he kicks them away.

  "Won't be laughing for long, babe." He hauls me up, my legs winding around his waist as I press my lips to his and he drives into my drenched core, slamming in again and again, my moans lost to his kiss.

  My orgasm builds and with every release after, I'm swept away to another corner of the room. It's a dance filled with pleasure and promise. He takes me in every imaginable position until I'm breathless and bent over a rickety rocking chair.

  "One more," he commands, slipping in from behind.

  "I—" it's a throaty pant, my eyes drowsy, "can't. I'm spent."

  "Only 'cause I'll need you again soon, I'll let you rest…when I'm done. Pop that ass up higher. Gonna fucking fill you."

  The tingle of his cock stroking my every last nerve ending is almost too much, but I manage the strength to lift my hips from the chair, crying out in pure, mind-blowing ecstasy when he grasps my hips and plunges deep, deeper still, then spills himself inside.

  I eventually find myself back on the floor, cuddled next to him in the sleeping bag.

  My stomach rumbles and Vaughn's head pops up. "You need to eat."

  "Face it, the rats have probably gotten to that can by now. Or mice…or roaches…" I ramble on and my stomach knots, no longer hungry. "Still gonna pass." I lean over his chest and press a kiss to the angry shoulder that he thinks I don't notice still bothers him. "But thank you." I smile this time.

  He closes his eyes for a moment, frustration obvious, and I wait for his complaining that never comes. For the first time ever he gives in and lies back down, cradling me in his arms.

  As we bask in sated happiness, the soft glow of morning light begins to filter in through the tattered curtains.

  "The sun's about up," I muse aloud.

  "Yep."

  "Maybe we should try to stay awake and do something," I suggest, unsure what exactly there is to do. Make SOS signs? He could probably piss it in the snow…

  His chest booms in laughter at my inadvertently verbalized thoughts. "Helluva plan, babe, but thinkin' it might not work. So unless you want to take your fine ass outside to build a snowman, I suggest you close your eyes and sleep."

  I nestle in closer. "True. Sleep it is."

  I hear it first, stirring to find the sun shining bright through the window and the pounding at the door incessant.

  "Vaughn!" I shriek, sitting up, the sleeping bag held against my bare chest.

  "Hmmm?"

  "Vaughn! Wake up!" Seriously, the guy can sleep through anything.

  "Paige! You in there?" I hear my name as the door bursts open, Shaw standing in the doorway wearing a black snowsuit and sunglasses, blocking the blinding glare. He enters warily, revealing two men behind him I don't recognize, also dressed abominably…like the Abominable…never mind.

  "Damn, didn't expect to find this." One of the men snort-laughs. "My kind of accident."

  "Shut it, Brady." Vaughn sits up, wrapping one arm around me and using his other to throw his boot at our rescuers.

  "Guess we'll wait for you outside," Shaw suggests, looking unsure of what else to say. "Brought this." He tosses a backpack at our feet then turns and leaves, pushing the two gawkers out with him.

  They're all but out when Vaughn yells, "Oakley? What the fuck you doing here? It's playoff season, son. You lost? I thought Harlow was long forgotten?"

  The giant guy who I take to be Oakley, turns around and shrugs. "Never. Saw the blizzard coming her way and jumped my ass on a plane. Although I was hoping to be stuck in a room with her, kinda like you two, rather than out searching the fucking wilderness for your ass."

  "What can I say, I'm a lucky son of a bitch." Vaughn glances my way, a smug grin covering his beautiful face.

  "Yeah, you are." I lean in and claim his lips, kissing him madly with no inhibitions despite the audience I can hear shuffling out.

  "Looks like we get to go home," he says when he breaks the moment, his forehead resting on mine.

  "What's the rush? Seem to remember you sayin' something about not being able to walk out of this place, and I still have a little bit of strength in my legs, so—"

  "That's my Firecracker," Vaughn growls, raising the sleeping bag over us with a satisfied murmur and sliding inside me effortlessly, filling me in ways no other man ever will again.

  Chapter 8

  "Whatcha feel like watching?" Vaughn asks, pointing the remote at the TV as I snuggle into his side on the couch. A couch!

  We've been home less than a full twenty-four hours, and after enjoying a real bath together and a snooze in an actual bed first thing, we just n
ow finally feel like we're settling in.

  "Anything but Survivor," I joke, "or Deliverance."

  "Good call." He laughs, flipping through the channels. "I'm glad you listened to me and took the night off. It's crazy to go back to work so soon."

  "Mmm hmm," I hum into his chest, suddenly this cooperative person…I kind of like.

  Except for when people blare music from upstairs. What is the deal with the communication via stereo thing anyway?

  My mouth grazes up over his freshly shaven jaw, trying like hell to block it out. The added stomping seeping through the floor boards isn't helping. I glare up at the ceiling as "Welcome Home" blasts and feel Vaughn shake with laughter.

  "Not funny," I grumble. "Go tell him to turn it down."

  He flicks the TV off and pulls me into his lap. "Only if you come with me. Your cousin's up there, in on it too, and I'm not yelling at a female."

  "Fine." I push off his hard chest, the one I should be lavishing with my tongue, not walking away from. Dammit! "Let's go."

  I march up the stairs, ankle now wrapped appropriately, and pound on the door.

  "Babe, still my apartment." Vaughn snickers from behind me. "Just walk in."

  Don't mind if I do.

  "Surprise!" The music's replaced with the unified scream of…everyone I know.

  "What the fuck?" I lowly mumble out the corner of my mouth to Vaughn, who's absolutely gut laughing now.

  His arm wraps around my waist, hand settling on my hip where he gives it a squeeze. "Be nice. Amelia insisted," he subtly whispers in my ear. "I'll make you come for every smile you can manage, deal?"

  "Deal." I sigh, then turn a painful grin to the crowd. "Oh my God, how nice. Thank you!" Yes, that hurt.

  "Easy Sunshine, you're gonna sprain something." He swats my ass. "Just relax and have some fun, huh?"

  Yeah, I can do that. I'm exhausted and would've preferred a quiet night of TV after more adventure than I almost couldn't handle, but this Welcome Home party is too thoughtful not to appreciate.