by Nicole James
They were both out of breath as he lay half on top of her, grinning down into her face. His hands planted on the cushions on either side of her, and she couldn’t help but let her eyes stray to the strong biceps revealed by his short-sleeved T-shirt.
He sat up, pulling her with him, and handed her drink to her.
She took a sip, curled her feet under her, and asked, “You hated me when we first met, didn’t you?”
“Who me? I didn’t hate you.”
“Oh, you so did,” she said, laughing.
“In my defense, you were a total brat. Non-stop.”
“Okay. I admit it. Now you admit you hated me.”
“I’ll admit you were annoying… but kind of appealing.”
“Appealing?”
“A polite word for sexy.”
“I’m sexy?”
“Hot as fuck, baby.”
She smiled and put her arms in the air and started singing, “He thinks I’m sexy. He thinks I’m sexy.”
“Don’t let it go to your head or anything.”
“Question.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. If we’re playin’ twenty questions, we’re cuttin’ the cards.” He leaned forward and grabbed a deck off the coffee table.
“Cutting the cards? What does that mean?”
He shuffled, then handed them to her. “You’re red and I’m black. You cut the cards and show me the card. If it’s red, you can ask me a question. If it’s black, I get to ask the question. Deal?”
“Okay.” She cut the cards; Queen of Hearts. She grinned and asked, “Why didn’t you pass me off when you had the chance?”
“You mean to one of my brothers?” He shrugged. “You were a brat, but you sure as hell keep it interesting. I wake up every day not knowin’ what to expect. Keeps me on my toes.”
“You’re so full of it.”
“Look who’s talkin’. You’re whole personality has been a lie. Pretendin’ to be something you’re not.”
She shuffled the cards in her hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yeah, you do. You play a pretty good bluff, but you’re not foolin’ me. Not anymore. I’m on to your game.”
“Game?”
“The hard-ass, don’t-give-a-shit attitude. You’re just coverin’ up the pain and fear—bluffin’ your way through. That’s okay, baby girl. If it’s workin’ for ya, gettin’ ya through the day, I’m fine with it.”
“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”
“Don’t I? Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Some things… They’re not a game. Maybe they were to start, but not anymore.”
“What things?”
“Me and you.” She motioned her hands between them. “Whatever this is.”
His jaw tightened, and he downed the rest of his drink.
She passed the deck to him. “Your turn.”
He cut the deck, six of diamonds. “Red again. Ask away.”
“If things were different… If there were no rules or restrictions, if no one cared… would you want me?”
“Yeah. I already told you that.”
“I wasn’t sure if you meant it.”
“Why wouldn’t I have meant it?”
She shrugged.
They were quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure. You can tell me anything.”
“After what happened…I’m afraid I won’t be able to…you know…” She rubbed her hands on her thighs. “…get an orgasm. From a man, I mean.”
He froze like a deer caught in the headlights, and she cursed herself for not keeping her mouth shut.
“Oh.”
“You’ve been one of the only… well, the only guy since Undertaker that I’ve been… you know, interested in. Sexually, I mean.”
He ran a slow hand down his face, then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his palms together. Finally, he twisted and looked at her over his shoulder. “You want to find out?”
Her whole body flushed. Her voice was barely a whisper. “What?”
“Not sex. But… I could give you an orgasm without intercourse. Or try to.”
“You’re not supposed to touch me…” Her voice faltered off.
“Can I be honest?”
She nodded, almost afraid to hear what he had to say. “All right.”
“Maybe you need to find out, like you said. I think a lot of what you’ve been doin’—goin’ a little wild, the sexy lingerie, comin’ on to me—I think maybe you’ve been tryin’ to rediscover your femininity again and feel comfortable with it and sex. I think you’re startin’ to feel your power as a woman again with me.” He held her eyes. “I can be that for you, if you need me to.”
It was true, every word of it. He understood her so well, maybe better than she understood herself. She couldn’t find words, and her throat felt tight, and all she could do was nod, as her eyes got glassy.
“But this’d be just between you and me. You can’t go tellin’ your girlfriends and especially not your sister.”
“I wouldn’t. I swear,” she whispered. He rubbed his hands slowly back and forth like he was second-guessing the offer, and suddenly the thought of him changing his mind terrified her. She stood up, and then sat back down nervously. “In the bedroom… or here or…”
The corner of his mouth tugged up, and he reached over and took her hand in his. His warm palm slid across hers as he threaded their fingers together, then gave her hand a squeeze, and somehow that small gesture put all her fears to rest, and she knew she was making the right decision, knew in her soul he was the right man to help her through this.
He stood and led her across the room, down the hall and into his bedroom, and every step they took, she was more sure.
Moonlight filtered in through the sheers covering the sliders. He walked her to the king-sized platform bed, stopping at the side of it. He turned to face her, still holding her hand.
“Relax, baby girl. Breathe.”
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out.
He searched her face. “You decide at any point you want to stop, we’ll stop. Okay?”
“Okay.” She gave him the answer he wanted, knowing she wasn’t going to want to stop, hoping this moment wouldn’t be ruined by any unwelcome flashbacks.
He squatted before her and looked up, meeting her eyes. “Can I take your jeans off, honey?”
She nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. He turned his head and kissed her palm, then unfastened her jeans and tugged them down her legs, until she kicked them off. His hands glided up her bare thighs.
“Lie back.”
She stretched out on the bed, and he moved next to her, up on one elbow. His free hand cupped her cheek and spread her hair away from her face. Then he traced her lower lip with his thumb, his eyes focused on her mouth.
“You’re beautiful, Holly.” His head lowered, and his lips captured hers—soft, tender, just a light brush against them, but he kept returning for touch after touch until finally she relaxed. Her mouth fell open, and his tongue swooped inside, tasting and stroking hers, kiss after kiss until her arms lifted and her hands threaded into his hair, pulling him back for more.
Her palms moved over his muscled neck and his broad shoulders, while his hand roved over her, gently squeezing her breast, then down and under the hem of her shirt to settle his warm palm on the soft skin of her belly. It stayed there, moving in circles until the tips of his fingers slipped under the edge of her panties and those long hot fingers dipped between her legs.
His mouth drew back a fraction, and he breathed against her lips, “You’re wet.”
His fingers moved in slow circles, spreading that lubrication all over her clit until it was coated and slick. Then he slipped two fingers inside her, searching for her g-spot while his thumb worked its magic above.
Her hips lifted off the bed, and she gasped. “Oh, God.”
He silenc
ed her with a passionate kiss, his upper body moving on top of her. She clutched at his shoulder and felt his muscles bunching as he stroked her again and again.
She writhed on the mattress beneath him, lifting, reaching, rubbing against his hand, letting him know she wanted a stronger touch.
“Faster,” she pleaded in a breathy voice.
He complied, and a hungry little sound thundered in her throat and drew an equal reaction from him. His thick, hard erection pressed against her hip. A groan tore from his mouth as he trailed it down her neck, sucking his way to her collarbone.
She started bucking hard against his hand as his thumb found that perfect rhythm. His denim clad knee wedged between her thighs, pushing them wider apart and giving him more room to work. The panties were in the way, but he left them in place, and she couldn’t help wondering if it was to keep him in check and to remind him to stop short of taking this to intercourse.
He had to want it as badly as she did. She was tempted to beg for more, but he’d promised her this and only this, and she was willing to take it.
Joker pulled his hand free and slathered the wetness across her mouth, then slammed his mouth back down on hers, tasting her and moaning as his hand returned to take up where it left off.
It added a whole other level of heat to her passion, and to his. She was almost sure his self-control was going to break, and he was going to move between her legs, shove her panties to the side, and slam his dick home all the way to the hilt.
He broke from the kiss to growl in the sexiest voice she’d ever heard, “You’ve got the sweetest tasting pussy. I want my mouth on it.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Please.”
He shook his head. “Can’t, baby. I’d be a goner. No way I’d stop.”
“Then don’t stop.”
His thumb rolled over her in long slow strokes, while his fingers pressed against that golden spot.
Her head rolled back, and her mouth fell open. He latched onto her throat and sucked hard and over the edge she went.
“Ohhhh.”
He slowed his movements, rocking her through the orgasm with small waves of receding pleasure until she was panting and breathless.
His hand slipped from her panties, and he brushed a light kiss to her lips.
“You good?” He smiled down at her.
“Better than good.”
He kissed her again, and then stood, drew the covers back and slid her under them. When she was settled all tucked in and cozy, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”
And then he left, closing the door.
She stared at the ceiling, her breathing still working its way back to normal. Well, that answers that question. She smiled, and a happy tear trailed down her cheek.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Joker stood in the kitchen, making coffee and yawning. He didn’t sleep for shit last night, and it wasn’t the uncomfortable couch that had kept him awake. It was the thought of Holly and how responsive to his touch she’d been, and the taste of her pussy—one he’d wanted to bury his face in. Hell, he wanted to bury more than his face there.
The sound of her bare feet on the floor had him turning to find her standing in one of his denim shirts. It hung to her mid-thigh, and she’d rolled the sleeves up.
He leaned back against the counter and lifted the mug to his mouth. “Find my closet, did ya?”
She smiled and glanced down. “I didn’t bring a robe.”
His gaze traveled over her bare legs, and his blood heated at the memory of how he’d pushed those thighs wide with his knee and how soft her skin had been. Needing to get his mind out of the gutter, he asked, “Want coffee?”
“God, yes.”
“And here I thought you’d sleep like a baby. Guess I’m not as good as I thought I was,” he teased, and took a sip off his mug.
She blushed. “I did. You are. I just smelled coffee. How’d you sleep?”
“Like shit. Walkin’ outta that room last night was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. So, don’t expect it again.”
She got coffee, wondering if he meant don’t expect him to touch her again, or don’t expect him to walk away again?
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Starved.”
“You like your eggs scrambled?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Only way I know how to make ‘em.” He grinned.
“Do I have time for a five minute shower?”
“You hurry, yeah. I’m hungry, woman.”
She gulped her coffee, looking at him over the rim and her cheeks lifting with her smile, then carried her mug into the bedroom.
He got out a fry pan and heard the bathroom door close. As he cracked eggs the shower came on. Then he lost track of how long he’d whisked them, imagining her wet, soapy, naked body in just the other room.
Perhaps that sexy-as-fuck daydream was the reason he didn’t hear the bike pull up. He didn’t hear shit until his slider opened, and his head jerked around.
His eyes slid closed. Fuck.
In walked Blood.
No greeting, just a glare and a curt, “You don’t answer your phone?”
Joker turned the burner off, swallowing and wondering how many seconds it would take for Blood to put it together. “Sorry, guess I didn’t hear it.”
“You know where Holly is? Remember her? The girl you’re suppose to be watching out for?”
Oh, he remembered her, all right. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Cat’s can’t get a hold of her. She’s not answerin’ her phone. Hauled my ass out of bed this mornin’—somethin’ I did not want to do, seein’ as how I had my hot naked woman pressed to my side. But also seein’ as how that same woman was freakin’ the fuck out over not bein’ able to reach her sister, I hauled my ass out of bed and road across fuckin’ town because my brother, whose supposed to be watchin’ over my sister-in-law is fallin’ down on the fucking job!”
Shit. Blood was pissed. At the mention of Holly not answering her phone, Joker’s eyes slid to her purse on the counter.
Blood followed his gaze, then looked to the shower. “You got company I see. Fuckin’ some pussy while you shoulda been seein’ to Holly last night?”
Oh, he was seein’ to Holly last night, that was for sure. “Sorry. Tell Cat everything’s fine.”
Blood’s gaze again cut to the purse, and recognition hit his eyes. They flared back to Joker. “Oh, you have got to be shittin’ me.”
Then before Joker could say a word, Blood stormed across the room, wrapped his hand around Joker’s throat and pinned him to the refrigerator door.
“You fuckin’ my sister-in-law?” he growled.
Joker was smart enough to put his hands up. “No. I swear. I slept on the couch. She took the bed.” Every word of it true and none of it honest.
Blood released him but stayed in his face. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?”
“She was alone. Campus is deserted. Everyone’s left town for spring break. She was in a bad mood about havin’ to be left behind. Thought I could keep a better eye on her if she just stayed here. Give her somethin’ to do.” He gestured to the wall.
Blood spun, taking in the mural for the first time. He took a step back, confused. “She do that?”
“Yeah. She’s damn talented. Amazed the fuck outta me.”
Blood drilled him with his eyes as he dug in his pocket for his phone. His thumb moved over the screen and he put it to his ear. “Yeah, babe. She’s fine.” He paused, eyes on Joker. “Over at Joker’s painting walls and shit. She’s okay.” He paused again. “No, I can’t put her on, she’s in the john. I’ll have her call you back. Love you, too, babe.”
He disconnected and glared at Joker, but before they could say anything else, Holly walked out of the bathroom. Joker panicked when he heard the door open, thinking she was about to round the corner in nothing but his shirt again, but thank fuck, she’d gotten dressed in a p
air of shorts and a tank top.
She walked out, toweling her hair, her head bent and not seeing Blood. “You have the best water pressure for a shower on a boat—”
“We got company, Hol,” Joker said.
She pulled the towel down and looked up, like she’d been caught red-handed doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Oh, hey, Blood. What are you doing here?”
“Lookin’ for you. Cat’s been tryin’ to call you.”
“Oh.” Her eyes cut to her purse. “I guess I didn’t hear.”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Blood’s eyes shot to Joker for another glare. “Cat wants you to call her. Now.”
“Okay. Right.” Holly moved to her purse to dig out her phone.
“You want coffee?” Joker asked Blood.
Blood’s sharp gaze moved between them. “Nope. Headed back home.”
“Okay.”
“Come outside with me,” Blood ordered him, stalking toward the sliders. Joker followed, closing the door behind them.
The minute the glass was shut, Blood whirled on him. “What the fuck are you doin’? You ain’t foolin’ nobody, least of all me. Now, I’m gonna keep my mouth shut ‘cause I don’t want Cat upset, but you better pull your head out of your ass before you do something stupid and lose your patch over this girl. You understand me, brother?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“Undertaker gave you a job. A job! He trusted you with her. I trusted you.”
Joker nodded. “I’m tryin’ to be a loyal brother.”
“And?”
“And she’s tryin’ to make me break that.”
“No shit. But you better understand, you fuck up, and some things can’t be forgiven.” Blood stared at him long and hard, then stalked off to his bike.
Joker stood there long after the roar of the motorcycle had faded down the road and the dust had settled. He ran his hand down his face, promising himself he wouldn’t touch her again, knowing he was walking a fine line between telling the truth and lyin’ to his brothers, and Blood was right; he needed to pull his head out of his ass.
Chapter Nineteen
For three days Joker kept Holly busy with fixing up his home, and she had to admit she was having a ball doing it. They’d painted the entire place, and she helped him find some prints and posters to frame and hang on the wall.