Vonnie: Book Two of Broken Girls Series

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  Her strokes moved to his shoulders. “Not only physically, but on the inside too.”

  Christ, she was killing him by touching him in such a sexy way while speaking words which were decidedly in the ‘not good’ range.

  “I told myself again and again to get rid of you, to push you out of my life,” she continued, leaning in to press her forehead to his as her hands began to roam over his chest, pausing to tweak at each of his nipples. “You’re too much of an alpha-dog to control on any level. And, as you’ve probably figured out, ‘control’ is my middle name.”

  Rio found it harder and harder to concentrate on her voice as her hands continued to move southward—to the exact place his body was craving she touch. And she was close, her palms skimming over the ridges of his stomach until they reached the button of the waistband.

  “But with you, I’ve found it’s not so hard to give that control up. Not when I like and trust the one I think knows how to lead.”

  Aw shit. Now she’d gone all sweet. And his Vonnie being adorable never failed to hit his heart at a deep level.

  Holding onto the first button, she tilted her face down until they were lip to lip. But she didn’t press in for a kiss. No, that’d be too simple for his complicated girl. Instead, she kept on talking while undoing his button-fly jeans.

  “So, if it’s okay…” The first button released without protest.

  “I think I’m gonna keep you around a while…” The second slipped through its buttonhole as easily as the first.

  “And see where this thing goes.” Button number three was a bit harder to open, probably due to the canted bulge behind it.

  “To figure out if we have what it takes…” The fourth had her struggling, but she didn’t give up and Rio knew better than intervene.

  “To actually be the couple everyone thinks we are.” Aw, the fifth. Christ, the fifth one was almost his undoing. But he managed to keep his hands on his knees and his lips to himself as he fought to make sense of her words. His body was screaming for hers in a way that split his focus, demanding he grab and do all the nasty things flipping through his mind.

  Peeling the opening of his pants back, she palmed his cock, straightening its position so she could stroke it firmly through his underwear. Unable to keep silent, Rio hissed on a long inhale.

  Dropping to her knees, his unpredictable spitfire looked up at him with hooded eyes. “Is that gonna be all right with you?”

  “Oh hell yeah.” Although Rio wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing, to especially when she pushed his briefs down and leaned down, sneaking out her tongue to give his helmet a swipe. Moving his hands from his knees to the mattress, he leaned back to get a better view. And he was glad he did because it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, bar none.

  The sight of her plump full lips sucking on him, the swirl of her tongue around the sensitive glands of the tip, even the way her cheeks sunk in as she tried to take him in deeper was the stuff of wet dreams. And the way she used both hands to work the length she couldn’t fit into her mouth?

  He moaned as his hips involuntarily drove upward. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off her and what she was doing to him, for him. And it didn’t take long before the pressure in his lower back shot straight to his balls, giving a clear signal of his impending orgasm.

  Just as he was about to warn her though, she stopped. Wiping her mouth, she stood up and began a slow strip of her own clothes. Done silently, deliberately even, she let her eyes do the talking as she got naked, one article of clothing after another discarded into a pile at her feet.

  And Rio remained her captive audience as she exposed herself inch by inch. Only thinking to toe off his boots when she was down to that frickin’ pink-laced bra and matching thong.

  “Should I keep going, big guy?” She was in full cock-teasing mode as she twisted from side to side with a coy grin.

  Rio nodded furiously, his eyes roaming over all the delectable bits on display as he reached for his jeans to shuck them fully off. But she held up a hand as if to stop him and since she seemed to want to call the shots in this go-round, he did as requested.

  Biting her lip, Vonnie eyed the portion of him still slick with her spit, wickedly turgid and half-exposed in his boxer briefs. “Would you do something for me? After you take off your pants, I mean.”

  At that moment he would’ve promised to do just about anything to have her touching him again. “Fuck yeah.”

  “Would you…” she paused as pink appeared on her chest and began a slow climb northward. “Would you touch yourself for me? S-show me what you do when you’re al-alone?”

  She wanted him to beat off in front of her? As requests went it seemed a little weird, but not so kinky it was out of the realm of possibility. With a caveat, of course. “I will if you will.”

  It was her turn to nod, although her’s was given in a jerky, uncertain fashion. It was cute as hell, but the deepening color of her face and chest told him how much her acquiescence cost.

  Coming into a half-crouch, Rio made short work of his jeans, boxers and socks shoving them onto the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor. Sitting back down, he opened his legs and reached for his length.

  Her eyes widened and lips parted as she reached behind her. A click was heard and the straps of her bra fell down her arms as he gripped himself and began to stroke. Not bothering to fuss with it, Vonnie let it fall down her arms before her hands reached for her amazing breasts. Caressing from underneath before sliding her fingers to their succulent tips, he realized he was getting a chance to learn exactly what she liked, of how she wanted to be touched.

  And she was learning from him as well as he moved his fist, swiping at his pre-cum with his thumb to act as lubrication.

  “That’s so…” she started, but her voice trailed off into a soft groan.

  He swallowed, silently agreeing as he watched her feel herself up. But it wasn’t enough of what he wanted. “Your panties,” he grunted. “Take ‘em off, princess.”

  Using her thumbs, she shoved the thong down her curvy thighs and kicked them off before glancing his way.

  Was he gonna have to tell her what to do next? Because he would if that’s what she wanted—willingly do it because shit was just starting to get good, in his opinion. But it was only a second or two before she brought one hand to her mound as the other went back to her voluptuous chest. She even took a step forward, which Rio thought went above and beyond the call of duty.

  Especially because in that range, he could smell her desire. An aroma which made his head swim as he continued to fondle himself in front of her.

  His eyes followed every one of her moves, the fingers that were steadily increasing in both speed and pressure as she played with herself. His ears picking up her breathing as it moved from soft hitches to out and out moans. And as he watched her, Rio’s fist began to pump faster.

  “You like this, princess?” he ground out on a deep growl. His hips began to buck in earnest as he saw the wetness on her fingers and thighs. “Is this what you wanted?”

  “Yesss…” she whispered with a whine in her voice. “It’s so…god, Rio.”

  “Wanna finish inside you.”

  That was all he had to say before she was scrambling up onto his lap, wiggling as if frantic to feel his cock inside her. And Rio obliged, holding his hard-on upright as she got into position then slammed down on him, embedding his full length deep and on one stroke until he was fully encased within her hot, wet cavern.

  Rio grabbed her, an arm around her waist as he captured the back of her head, his lips connecting with hers as they allowed their passion to take over. And it wasn’t long before the silence in the room was filled with the sound of slapping flesh as she rode him hard and fast, their groans only a whisper in each other’s busy mouths.

  She ripped her lips from his as he felt the first fluttering of her inner walls. “I’m gonna…oh, Rio. I’m so close to…”

  “Give it, babe. Give me all
that sweet loving.” Rio couldn’t get enough of her and shoved his face into her neck. “I’m right behind you.”

  And he hadn’t lied because the very second she stiffened in his arms, his cock let loose in thrilling streams, accompanied by the sharp darts of pleasure in his release.

  It was later, much later actually, when they came down off their mutual high, after he’d gotten her underneath the covers and tucked into his side that Rio realized all Vonnie had given him.

  Number one, she’d initiated sex. Something she hadn’t done before but in such a way he felt like she’d specifically chosen him to bestow that gift on.

  Then there was the shit she’d said, the stuff about thinking to send him away because he was too ‘alpha’ for her, whatever the fuck that meant. But she’d decided to keep him around to see if they could be a couple.

  Then there was the way she’d deliberately made herself vulnerable by masturbating in front of him, allowing him to watch as she made herself feel good. Something Rio was determined to have happen again, due to how exciting it was to both view and be viewed in performing an act usually done solo.

  Which all added up to what?

  Glancing down at the top of her head, nestled into his chest, he wondered at the feelings bubbling all along his insides. Emotions he swore he’d never allow himself to feel again. Because if a guy didn’t love then he couldn’t get hurt. Couldn’t lose his heart if he never gave it.

  It would kill him to lose Vonnie.

  Which he knew, frickin’ knew without absolute clarity, meant he’d done it.

  He’d gone and fallen in love with his little spitfire.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Del repositioned the baggie of ice on his ankle and sat back on the stained, lumpy couch of his studio apartment, a far cry from the opulent house Anton called home.

  That damn dog had got him good, shredding his khakis and puncturing his ankle and calf again and again. Pretty deep in a couple of places too. Enough so, Del wondered if he needed stitches. But there was no way in hell he could get professional help, not with how cozy that lady was with the cops.

  And it had to have been a couple of off-duty policemen who caught him in the act of trying to finagle her into his truck. Who else would whip out a handgun in the middle of a quiet, up-standing Grantham neighborhood on a beautiful Wednesday morning?

  He just counted himself lucky the one round that’d been fired when he’d attempted to flee hadn’t hit him. Guns were one thing, but to actually discharge it? Over what? Snatching an unknown woman and her mutt off the street?

  Jay-sus. Maybe Del underestimated Grantham’s finest, because they sure as shit had more balls than those in New Mexico. But then, Del’d had a lot more experience with the ones back home—almost on a first name basis with a couple of them. Since coming to Colorado, he’d kept his head down and his nose clean.

  Except for moving the product and this latest thing—trying to nab a gal right off the street. A new low for even him.

  “Fucking Anton,” he muttered out loud, reaching for the sack of ice again. It was all the kid’s fault. Del had only been following instructions. Or had tried to, but what did he know about kidnapping somebody? He’d gotten into some deep shit in his life, sometimes going so far as to helping Anton to ‘clean up’ a situation. But that was beside the point and done only under the threat of being shot himself for his ‘insubordination’.

  He needed to call his boss and let him know what happened, although he sure didn’t want to—well knowing how the call was going to go. And Delmar was not in the mood to hear any of Anton’s crap. Not the ass-chewing or the threats that were sure to be screamed his way for fucking up yet again.

  Del sighed and took a long slug of bourbon straight from the bottle, the only thing he had on hand in the way of pain relief. Maybe I should call it a day and just retire, he thought as the burn of the booze hit his stomach. Cut my losses and get a place someplace warm like Vegas or Phoenix. A town with a couple of casinos where he could have some fun and add to the little bit of savings he’d accumulated over the years, money Anton didn’t know about.

  Shored up by his new plan of action, Del reached for his cellphone and made the call.

  This went exactly as he’d predicted, but for a helluva lot longer than he’d anticipated.

  And it wasn’t until Anton asked, “When are you going to make your second attempt to get this done, asshole?”, that Delmar lost the little bit of hold he had on his temper.

  “Not gonna happen,” he replied through tight lips. “You can count me right the hell out. I’m done.”

  Anton was silent for a couple of seconds. “No, Del. You’re done when I say you’re done.”

  Rubbing a hand over his face, Del tried to keep his tongue civil, but couldn’t. “In this instance, you’re the one who’s wrong, Anton. I’m getting out, gonna retire as soon as fucking possible and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Anton laughed but not in a way that held an ounce of humor. “You are such a fuck-up. Don’t you know ass-hat? Haven’t you learned by now there is no retirement when you work for my family?”

  Del blinked, his mind suddenly filled with memories of all the guys who used to work with him back at the Milosevic compound in Albuquerque. Especially those like Ben and old Shep. They didn’t get a chance to retire even though they were older than Del was now. No, they’d been sent out on what the other members of staff called ‘suicide missions’.

  But Anton wasn’t a part of the Milosevics, not any more. His daddy had washed his hands of the punk when he was only sixteen, shipping him off to be raised by his uncle. A man who’d had no more use for the kid than Anton’s own father. So if the cocky councilman wanted to rejoin the Serbian mob in both name and deed, he was going to need a lot more men to carry out his wishes. Shuck off Anton Novak, respected councilman and pillar of the Grantham community and go back to using his real name of Avram Milosevic in order to tap into all the men his daddy kept around in order to bring Del to heel.

  And wouldn’t that go over good with his constituents?

  No. The fact was outside of his ageing secretary, Anton had no one but Del to do his bidding.

  And had too much scrutiny nowadays to carry out any of his threats against his soon-to-be-gone underling.

  Therefore, even though the man could still put the fear of God into him, Del was willing to take his chances. “Whatever, Anton. But I’m still retiring.” Swilling from the bottle again, he further added, “So if you need someone to do your dirty work, you might try doing it yourself for once.”

  It sounded damn good and was given in a firm, level voice, but as Delmar Jones abruptly clicked off his phone, his balls practically crawled up his throat in fear.

  Anton wouldn’t let neither him nor his words slide.

  ‘Cause Anton never let anything slide.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I texted Zee and asked him to come in, although why he insisted in patrolling outside seemed silly to me. Especially after he’d joined me and Max for breakfast that morning. But no, the minute Rio left for work Zee decided to make good on his promise to keep an eye on me, and to keep me safe.

  Not that I minded since I had stuff I wanted to do, things to complete before he took me to the bridal shop. From what I could figure the last time I spoke to Maizie (who’d set up the appointment with the owner of the new business), I needed to plan on spending at least three hours to get through everyone choosing and having their dress fitted for Phoebe’s wedding.

  My response to that was along the lines of ‘kill me now’.

  Actually, I’d tried to get out of the whole thing since my gift to my foster-sister and best friend was to be the official wedding photographer for Phoebe’s special day. But she’d insisted I needed to be outfitted like the others so everyone would know I was a part of her wedding party. Even though I wouldn’t have to stand up at the front with her and Ryker.

  If all I had to do was get gussied up and then hide be
hind my camera for the rest of it—I was good with that. Not so much with the spending three hours to haggle over said dress and then have it fitted. Yeah, no.

  However, my day wasn’t gonna be chalked up as a total loss.

  Because I’d scanned the pictures from my mother’s old locket into my new laptop. And messed around with them using a couple of different photo programs, enlarging them without losing their clarity. It was an exhaustive, fiddly couple of hours, but oh-so satisfying when it all came together. So I could be forgiven for the excessive sense of pride I felt when I pulled the first picture off the printer. As well as my tears while I stared into the faces of my parents when the photos were finally large enough for me to see their features, the light in their eyes.

  To me, they were beautiful. Although I really wished I could remember them for myself instead of through Zee’s memories.

  Printing out a second set was just as satisfying and while my printer did its thing, I rummaged through the closet where I kept my supplies and went through my stack of frames. That’s when I texted Zee, asking him to come in the house.

  And when I showed him what I’d wrought, of what I’d managed to do I thought he was going to lose it again. “Look at that,” he’d breathed, his eyes shooting between the two photos as if he couldn’t get enough. “Would you just look at that?”

  I knew the feeling. I wanted to hang the pics in every area, but knew that might be taking it too far. Still and all…

  “Guess I’m gonna have to get an apartment or something, just to have a place to hang these.” Zee’s words made me laugh and helped me not feel so weird about thinking to have a set in almost every room of my condo.

  “I can print some that are wallet size if you want.” Forget what he wanted. Now that I’d thought of it, I wanted a set so I could flash them around. Stepping around him to get to my laptop, I punched a couple of buttons before the printer started humming again.