Sweet Vibrations

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Sweet Vibrations Page 14

by Melinda Barron


  When he lifted off her, he bent back down and started in on her clit again.

  “Master,” Lucy whispered. “Please?”

  “Not yet,” Lake said. “I like watching this.”

  Her legs were spread wide, with both men lavishing attention on her. She knew from Eric’s increased intensity that he was almost there. At Eric’s first cry of release, Lake pushed his thumb down on Lucy’s clit and said, “Now.”

  Lucy’s hips shot off the table, Eric sliding into her deeper as he pounded out his own orgasm. Lake’s fingers continued to stimulate her, almost, but not quite, to the unbearable point of pain.

  “Look at my Vixen soar.”

  “Yes, Master. So good. Thank you. And thank you, Master Eric.”

  “I should be thanking you, Lucy,” Eric replied. “I enjoyed that very much.”

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Lake said. “We can go for a quick soak in the hot tub and take a nap before dinner.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Eric said. “Then we’ll be ready for round two.”

  Lucy grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. She could hardly wait.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lake stood in the doorway and watched Lucy sleep.

  He watched her chest rise and fall softly and wondered again how he’d gotten so lucky. His thoughts quickly clouded over with the danger that she was in. Soon after they’d gone to bed, Eric’s cell phone had rung.

  Alan Malfee was dead, shot by Rodney Baker, according to several men at the shop. Then, a half hour after Malfee’s murder, Lucy’s neighbor had reported seeing a strange man lurking in the backyard of her now vacant house. He’d identified Baker from photographs.

  Eric had proposed, and Lake had agreed, that it was safer not to let the hot-headed Lucy know what had happened just yet. Better to keep her here, buried away in Chama, while they hunted for Baker.

  “Fuck her a couple times. I sure wish I could stay and play.”

  “I can handle that.” Then, Erick had hopped into Lake’s truck and roared out of the driveway. That had been almost four hours ago, so he knew Eric was already back in Albuquerque.

  He put his hands on the top of the doorframe and leaned inward.

  “Lucy.” He whispered the word and watched her fidget and moan softly. “Lucy, wake up.”

  She sat bolt upright, her breasts jiggling.

  “Hello, sunshine.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Around nine. Let’s fix something to eat. I’m starved.”

  She stood and stretched, and Lake felt his dick harden.

  “Where’s Eric?”

  “He had to go home. Emergency.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope.”

  Lake weighed his answer carefully. “With Eric’s work, it’s usually bad. Come to the kitchen.”

  He walked away before she could ask another question. She padded behind him, buttoning up his shirt as she entered the room.

  “No. Naked.”

  “Master.”

  “Now.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “What happened is I have a subbie who doesn’t like to obey her Master. I told you earlier that you’d be naked the whole time we were here. Did you think that would change because Eric left?”

  “No.”

  “Good. That might make me jealous. Lie down on the table while I cook dinner.”

  “Diego might not like it that I’m naked on his table,” Lucy said as she stepped onto the chair and lay down.

  “Diego would be jealous he wasn’t here to see you naked on his table. He’s a horny little bastard. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up.”

  Lake turned toward the stove, and watched Lucy through lowered eyes. She glanced nervously at the doorway and he smiled. There was no way Diego was showing up uninvited, even if it was his cabin, but Lake liked to keep her on her toes.

  “I’m making some green chili stew,” he said. “How does that sound?”

  “Delicious.”

  “Good. Come and peel some potatoes.”

  She jumped from the table and he licked his lips, appreciating the view of her body as she walked toward him.

  “So, did we stop at forty-eight hours for the no fucking punishment, or sixty?”

  “You were serious?” She stared at him, potato and peeler in hand.

  “Very. Now that you belong to me, I take punishments very seriously.”

  “You took them seriously before.”

  “True, but now they will remind you that you’re mine.” He traced his finger around the choker. “A collared sub. My Vixen.”

  A smile warmed her face and his cock twitched.

  “Hurry and peel.” He watched her finish the chore, then wash and cube the potatoes.

  “Kneel, over by the table.”

  He finished making the stew, setting it low enough to simmer, then walked over to her, gently stroking her face.

  “Let’s go outside for a while.”

  He took her hand and helped her to stand. They crossed toward the motorcycles.

  “Are we going for a ride, with me naked?”

  “Of course not, Lucy. That would be dangerous. Come here.”

  She walked gingerly across the ground toward him, and he cursed himself for not remembering that she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

  When she was near him, he stepped back.

  “Straddle the bike. I’m going to ride bitch behind you, and you’re going to ride my cock.”

  Lucy shook her head.

  “That’s Craig’s bike.”

  “This is my bike, Lucy. It’s the reason we’re together. It’s got a new seat, new grips, and new saddlebags. I’ve made it my own. Come on, baby. Straddle it.”

  Lucy was almost ashamed of the fact that she was so wet. She’d always wanted to have sex on the bike, but Brandon had always refused, saying it was cliché, too trite.

  She felt weird about the fact that the bike was Craig’s, but then again she knew Lake was right. The bike was his now. Lucy had to stop thinking of the past, and move forward.

  She threw her right leg over the bike and balanced herself on her feet.

  “I’m wet,” she whispered.

  “I know, baby. Go ahead and sit down.”

  “I’ll stain the seat.”

  “And I’ll think about fucking you every time I ride it.”

  His zipper came down, and his low groan let her know he’d released his cock. He slid into position behind her, lifting her up enough so that she came down on his cock, her pussy engulfing him in one swift stroke.

  “Ride me hard, Lucy. Fuck me.” His words made her shiver and she began to move, bouncing on him as he yelled out his approval, his hands on her hips as he brought her down harder and harder and harder.

  “Come, Lucy. Come over and over and over for me.”

  He grabbed her hand as she reached for her clit.

  “No. Come from fucking only. You can do it. Be nasty for me, Lucy. Fuck me hard.”

  She bounced harder, losing all sense of reasoning as she rode him. He was right, she didn’t need her hand. His cock hit her in just the right spot, and she came, screaming out his name to the cool night air. She felt deliciously naughty as she rode him, his breath hot against her back, his breathing as labored as her own.

  “Will you be everything for me, Lucy?”

  “Yes, Lake.”

  “Will you be my lover, my sub, my nasty little Vixen?”

  “Yes, Lake, oh lord, yes.”

  She felt him explode inside her.

  “Will you be my wife?”

  She gripped the handlebars and tried to get her breathing under control.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I’ve thought about it a lot, and this isn’t exactly how I had this planned. But I want you to marry me, Lucy. Be my wife; be bound to me in the eyes of the law. We can be bound to each other.”

  He lifted her from him and she turned toward him.

  “Lake…”

&nb
sp; “It’s kinda fitting, don’t you think, that I ask you on the bike, since it was on this bike that I got the first inkling that I wanted you in my life.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. So, what do you say? Will you accept my very unromantic, very spur of the moment proposal? I don’t even have a ring.”

  He pulled her back into him for a long, deep kiss that Lucy thought would sear off her toes.

  When he finally let her up for air, their gazes locked.

  “Well?” He caressed her cheek with his thumb.

  “Yes. I’ll marry you.” Lucy blurted out the words before she could think about it too long. Thinking about something too hard could prove treacherous and if there was one thing that she knew, she loved Lake Ross.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I can’t believe you lied to me.” Lucy pushed away from Lake. He sat astride the Indian, an innocent look on his face.

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “You lied by omission. You should have told me why Eric went back the other night. And then, you turned around and got me to agree to marry you.”

  Lake’s face turned serious. “Are you changing your mind?”

  “No, I just…ugh! You’re so frustrating!”

  “Hey, I bought you a great ring, didn’t I?”

  Lucy held up her left hand and stared at the diamond on her finger.

  “Yes, you did. But…”

  “No buts, Lucy. We did what we thought was best to keep you away from Baker. He’s disappeared again, so until he’s caught, you’re in my custody. I’m dropping you off at work, and I’ll be back at seven to pick you up. If you leave without me, I’ll be forced to punish your little ass, do you understand me?”

  “Say it again.”

  “What, punish you?”

  “No, little ass.” She stuck out her tongue and grinned, then made a mad dash for the building.

  From inside, she heard the Indian roar off. She was getting quite used to riding bitch. In fact, she was beginning to love it.

  She stared at her ring again, then put on her apron and stuffed several pairs of gloves in the front pocket. It was a Monday, usually an uneventful day, but when they’d driven up, the parking lot had been full.

  Lake had reminded her not to wander off by herself, and to make sure that she took someone with her if she had to go to the greenhouses or storage sheds that were behind the main store.

  She started her assigned tasks of unpacking boxes of pots and knickknacks that attracted the tourists. Every so often she would stop and look at her left hand, admiring the diamond that sparkled back at her.

  Her life had changed so quickly. Two months ago she’d told herself that she’d never marry again, that she would be alone, with no one but George to keep her company at night. Now she had Lake, the most wonderful man she’d ever met, the most loving man she’d ever met, and hell, yes, the hottest man she’d ever met.

  She laughed, then hissed a “come here” at Marcy when her friend walked back. Marcy shook her head and mouthed “later,” and Lucy wiggled her ring finger at her.

  Marcy’s mouth dropped open and Lucy threw back her head and laughed. Briscoe, however, picked that moment to remind Marcy that she was behind. The woman’s hound dog look made Lucy laugh harder, and it was after six before the two of them found time to sneak to the back room so Marcy could look at Lucy’s ring.

  “Geeze Louise,” Marcy said. “It’s huge. I want a doctor. Can I have one too?”

  “You can’t have mine.”

  “I can’t believe it happened so fast.”

  “Me neither. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  Marcy giggled. “Well, I want to meet the doctor. I have to tell you, I worried at first that he was that creepy guy that came in here on Saturday looking for you.”

  Lucy’s blood ran cold. “What guy?”

  “Some dark-headed guy. He came in here on a motorcycle, so I thought maybe it was the doc, but then I remembered that you and the doc were in Chama together. This guy was seriously creepy.”

  Lucy swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it wasn’t that he was ugly, or anything, he just looked, um, scary. His eyes were creepy. When I told him you wouldn’t be back until today, he lit out of here like his ass was on fire.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “Yeah, ’cause like I said, he was on a bike and I thought he might be your doc. I wanted to meet him.”

  “Marcy!” Briscoe’s yell made them both jump. Marcy moved toward their boss, and Lucy went to the storeroom doorway and looked around. She checked her watch. It was after six-thirty, and Lake would be here any minute to pick her up. There was no doubt in her mind that it had been Rodney looking for her on Saturday. And Marcy, trying to be helpful, had informed him that Lucy would be here on Monday.

  Not that she could blame Marcy. Lucy, always a private person, had not told her friend about anything that had happened the past week, other than the break-in, which everyone thought had been random. She’d told Marcy that she’d missed work to look for a new house.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Lucy checked her watch again. “No. Everything’s fine. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and I think I’m going to sit back here for a while.”

  “OK,” Marcy replied. “But if Briscoe catches you, you’re up the creek. You’re already in the dog house with him.”

  Marcy hugged Lucy tight. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  When she was gone, Lucy moved to the back of the storeroom and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed Lake’s number, her hands shaking. If he’d ridden the bike to pick her up, then he wouldn’t be able to answer. She knew that coming here without a means of transportation today was a bad idea, because job or no job, right now she would be hauling ass back down the highway. The phone rang four times and went to voice mail.

  Another glance at her watch showed that ten more minutes had passed. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lake’s number again, willing him to answer. This time the phone went straight to voice mail. She tried Eric’s number and got the same response.

  “Shit!” She pocketed it, then headed for the back door. No one but employees were supposed to be in this part of the store or the grounds. She hated to look like a coward, hiding from Rodney when it wasn’t even a certainty that he would show up. Eric had assured her that they thought he’d probably left town after Malfee’s murder.

  Of course him showing up here on Saturday proved otherwise. She took a few tentative steps outside, looking around to make sure no one was in sight. She stepped into the sunlight and headed for the southern tip of the building, where she could watch the road for Lake’s arrival.

  Her heart was doing triple time, and her hands were shaking. Sweat formed on her brow.

  She was seconds away from seeing the road when Rodney stepped around the building. He looked as surprised to see her as she did to see him. His surprise quickly turned to anger.

  “Fucking, bitch. I’m not going to prison because of you.”

  “You’re right,” Lucy said slowly, inching backwards. “You’re going because of yourself. You killed Craig. You bastard.”

  “Prick wouldn’t mind his own damn business. If he didn’t want the money he should have just turned his nose the other way, like the others did. But he had to be Mr. Goody Two-shoes. He got what he deserved. The only thing that really pissed me off was he died too fast.”

  Anger clouded Lucy’s judgment. An image of Craig’s smiling face filled her mind, and she launched herself toward Rodney, clawing at his face and bringing her knee up to his groin.

  He was too fast for her, however, and he sidestepped the knee. Her nails found their mark, though, and he howled in pain. His backhand sent Lucy reeling. She screamed out in rage as he straddled her and put his hands on her throat.

  “I’ll make this one last,” he said as he tightened his grip. “Maybe, if there’s justice, your b
astard uncle’s watching and will feel the pain, too.”

  “Lucy!” Briscoe’s voice rang out from the storeroom doorway. “Get off her!”

  She could hear his feet pounding against the dirt.

  “Briscoe! Albuquerque PD. Let her go!”

  She’d never been so happy to hear Eric’s voice. Baker tightened his hold and Lucy moved her hand from his grip, reached out, and grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it in his face. He coughed and sputtered, letting go of her neck, and falling backwards on his knees.

  Lucy gasped as Briscoe grabbed her arms and dragged her away from the angry man, who was spitting dirt and screaming expletives at her.

  “Down, Baker!” Eric screamed. “Get down on the ground!”

  “Fuck you! I’m going to kill the bitch!” Baker turned on Eric, his arms flailing in the air. Suddenly, his body jerked.

  Lucy realized that the sounds she’d just heard were gunshots as Baker toppled to the ground.

  She was vaguely aware of Briscoe pulling her shaking body up from the ground and rushing her toward the building, of Marcy pulling her close, of Eric yelling for everyone to get back, and the sounds of distant sirens growing closer.

  After a few minutes, she pushed away from Marcy and looked toward Eric. He sat on the ground near Baker, his gun dangling from his hands.

  “Eric.”

  “Lake had a last minute appointment,” Eric said, his voice devoid of emotion. “He asked me to come.”

  “Drop the gun, now.”

  Lucy turned toward the sheriff’s deputies who rounded the building, guns drawn.

  “I’m with the PD,” Eric said softly. “I’m putting it down.”

  He dropped the weapon and, following the other officer’s instructions, slowly pulled his badge from his pocket. One officer examined it while the other one bent down to examine Baker.

  “He’s dead,” the deputy said. “We’re going to need a crime unit.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lucy jumped up from the wooden bench and ran toward the grand jury room door when it opened. Lake came up behind her, his hands on her shoulders, holding her back.

 

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