Red (Love in Color Series Book 1)

by SM West

  Keeping my gaze open, inviting, letting her see how her touch warms me, arouses me, quickens my heartbeat and shortens my breath. I want her to understand what she does to me, how she makes me feel and that I’m hers’ to do with as she pleases. I’m at her mercy.

  She responds with an unguarded, soft, almost loving, look. Her unguarded, open focus transfixes me. Her eyes darken, ravenous, as her lips brush mine. Kissing me, her hand snakes down between us, grabbing my still rock, hard cock.

  Her small, warm hand wraps around me. Her fingers don’t meet, but her hold is firm, ardently stroking my hard length. Her bold move echoes the assurance in her eyes, overriding any concerns or trepidation she may have had.

  “Can I take…the lead?” she blushes.

  “Are you sure? We don’t have to go any further,” I warmly say, eyes hooded, fighting to maintain control as she continues her ministrations.

  She nods. I grit out, “Tate, I need to hear you say it.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she assuredly says.

  I usually lead. I like it that way. But there’s no denying I’m loving what she’s doing to me right now. I’m hard as steel with this strong and beautiful woman above me.

  I want the control, but the thought of Tate satisfying herself with my body, using me to bring her pleasure, does all kinds of things to me. Hot.

  “I’m yours,” I willingly say.

  Releasing me, she slides back, rubbing her slick core on my erection. Her inner thighs squeeze my legs. Her hands splay on my pecs for leverage. Her wet heat coats both of us as my cock slides along her clit. I tentatively mold my hands to her breasts. Her beautiful tits swaying with her movement.

  Before long, her arms lock, her thighs further tense and her head rolls back. So far back, the ends of her hair gently tickle my legs. Her neck’s exposed, mouth open. Completely surrendered. Her body’s taut, her breath hitches and she screams my name.

  “Beautiful,” I rasp.

  Her name on my lips as she orgasmed almost had me coming with her. She leans forward and snatches my lips in a short, searing kiss. Pushing a bit off my chest, still skin-to-skin, her eyes meet mine.

  “Condom?”

  Pointing to my pants, she hands them to me. I take the square foil packet out of my wallet. Watching, she rolls the condom on achingly slow, my restraint threatening to explode.

  Still straddling me, she takes hold of my long, hard cock and lines herself up. Slowly, ever so slowly, she leads my tip into the warmth of her sex.

  Her eyes are dark and lust-filled, hair tousled and wild as I slowly stretch and fill her. She’s never looked more beautiful with her unbridled passion exposed. She pushes down further, taking a bit more of me, and then up.

  One, two and on the third downward thrust, with a flex of my hips, I’m all the way in. To the hilt. Fuck, the most sublime feeling ever. Grabbing her hips, I steady her. Giving her a moment to adjust to me. To us. Making sure she still wants this. And I also need a moment to calm the fuck down. If not, this will be over real soon.

  Tate’s boldness, presence and desire burns brightly in her eyes. Leaning forward, she crashes her lips against mine. Lost in her honey vanilla scent and sensuous lips, I flex up, she pushes down in rhythm. One hand taunts and teases her nipple and the other strokes her core. Our tongues tangle. Small, warm hands rub my slick chest and our unified breaths are short and heavy.

  Heat rushes down my spine with each quick, deep thrust, my balls pull up as she clenches around me. So, fucking tight. Everything about her grows hotter as we climb. Both tensing, climaxing and releasing together. She collapses on me, satiated.

  We’re damp, wrung out, our bodies as one. Attempting to leave, I tighten my arms around her. I could stay like this, with her in my arms, forever.

  “I’m starving,” Tate mumbles into my chest. Both of us chuckle.

  “Me too.”

  She tries again, pushing up. Loosening my hold, she attempts to climb off me.

  “Hey, hang on,” I clasp her face in my hands, softly sweeping my thumbs over the crests of her smooth cheeks. “Let me cook for you,” I implore.

  Her neutral expression shifts, her eyes soften and her lips curve up into a small, yet real, smile. She nods ever so slightly. I release my hold but not before planting one firm, wet kiss on her mouth and the top of her head.

  “Let’s go,” I tease, playfully swatting her firm behind. We untangle. I grab my jeans and Tate, my shirt.

  “Just give me a minute,” she says almost timidly.

  She hurries into the bathroom, locking the door. I head to the kitchen. After a few minutes, she’s still not out. I lightly tap on the door.

  “Tate? Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she answers immediately. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

  “That’s what you said ten minutes ago,” I state. Not wanting to push but sensing something may be wrong.

  “I know,” she sheepishly replies.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No,” she rushes to respond, her pitch higher than normal.

  “What’s wrong? And before you say nothing, I know something is wrong.”

  “Ry, it’s nothing,” she starts. “It’s just…” she trails off. Silence.

  “Tate, if you don’t open this door now, I’ll kick it down,” I gruffly say.

  With the click of the lock, the door opens. Face flushed, eyes shining, lips swollen, looking freshly fucked. She’s exquisite. Seeing her like this makes me hard, I want to have her again. Even knowing something is wrong.

  “What’s the matter?” I softly ask.

  “Nothing. It’s just that, I never…shit, I’m overwhelmed. I never imagined I’d have this again,” she says.

  “Have what?” I ask. My hand cupping the back of her neck, bringing her closer to me.

  Winding my hand around her low back, my fingers secure her slender hip. Her hands rest on my chest, slightly tilting upward to face me. Her bright, wide eyes and her body relaxed, soft, she’s open to me. I’ve never seen her look more innocent.

  “The mutual sharing and passion for sex. Of being as close as two people can be,” she whispers, a sweet smile slowly spreading across her face.

  I’m not one for cheesy, romantic stuff, yet Tate’s words and the look on her face have me weak in the knees. Yes, I may just be pussy whipped.

  “You can talk to me, you know,” I say, wanting her to know I’m here for her.

  I’m out of my depth. I don’t do personal talks, the closest is my sister and even then, I’d be running in the other direction. Even with that, I find myself wanting things I never thought I would. Only with Tate.

  “It’s pretty messed up,” she says. “Bobby…” She pauses, looking at me with questioning eyes. I nod, encouraging her to go on, although hearing about Bobby is the last thing I want. “He takes, violently, against my will. I’ve learned to cope by…just lying there,” she whispers, looking down.

  My spine stiffens as I battle my rage, the urge to kill Bobby Thornton. “Hey,” I soothe, scooping her up into my arms. I focus on Tate in my arms as I battle my extreme desire to destroy something or more specifically, her husband.

  We sit on the bed with Tate in my lap. She willingly rests her head on my shoulder. Her fingers lightly outlining my collarbone and shoulder.

  “You did what you had to,” I say softly.

  “It broke me,” she chokes out, disgust and embarrassment evident in her scrunched up nose, pursed lips and slightly red cheeks. She won’t look at me. “It went on forever. He held me captive using the only things I cared about to keep me in line, to keep me from escaping. Max and Julia. Their safety had me marrying him, accepting this life. I surrendered my body for their lives. And I’d do it again. Sex…is complicated for me. I mean, it can be heady without all the darkness.”

  Tightly wound, ready to unleash a full assault on Thornton, it takes a herculean effort to sit still. To not tear out of there, leaving carnage in my wake, on my quest to term
inate that asshole.

  My fingers gently trace the top of her hand. Her head shifts to look at me, her eyes soften. I haven’t lost her, she’s still here.

  “Being with you, you showed me the flip side of those dark, ugly places. You brought me into the light. I feel like together we defy darkness. You’ve...,”

  “Go on,” I encourage.

  “I’d forgotten what it was like to want a man. These weeks with you have shown me, reminded me what it’s like to be with a real man. One who is tender, sweet and all kinds of sexy.”

  “Tell me how I can help you. I don’t want you to ever feel pressured or forced,” I softly say. Holding her closer to me. If I could take all her pain, all her hurt, I’d readily do it in a heartbeat.

  “You’ve already helped. Just being you helps me,” she sweetly says, smiling.

  I match her smile with one of my own, gently pressing a kiss to her lips. Loving it, she melts further into my arms, opening for me. I have renewed determination. Making Conrad and Thornton pay was always the goal. Now, I want to end them. Painfully. I won’t rest until Tate is free.

  I kiss her long, bold and deep. An all-consuming kiss. Using my mouth to show her I’ll treasure her, the priceless gift that she is. And without knowing anymore about the torture and torment of living with Thornton, I know what we share is as raw, real and overpowering for her as it is for me. With each other, we are home, found, whole.

  5 YEARS, 7 MONTHS.

  2,035 days.

  48,840 hours.

  2,93,400 minutes.

  I nourished my loss, spent countless days and nights watering it with my tears, feeding it with my rage, and sheltering it with my vengeance. Now, my grief’s blossomed into overpowering guilt.

  Being with Ry has fueled my incessant recriminations. Have I betrayed Griffin by willingly sleeping with another man? A man he thought of like a brother? And yet I can’t deny Ry. I can’t deny my need for him. My want. Ironically, the only thing that quells my torrent of remorse is being with Ry.

  Our first time was more than sex. My instinct was to freeze, unconsciously protecting myself, until I remembered it was Ry. Instead of automatically slipping into turn-off mode, my body came alive.

  The overwhelming pleasurable sensations were volatile and unwieldy. Closing my eyes didn’t help. I only sank faster into the heavenly abyss. And I didn’t want to lose myself like that. I wanted to be there, I wanted to see him, to feel him.

  The only way to not be consumed or destroyed under the extreme carnality of our union was to take control. And Ry let me have it.

  Rylan Wolfe is my addiction. The draw toward him has me throwing caution to the wind. He consumes me, incites me; his kiss, his touch, his taste brings me to my knees.

  With Bobby away, we’ve been seeing more of each other. We’ve been creative in my cover. Noel suspects, I see it in his knowing looks. If only my guilt or the heightened risk were enough to stop me. Stop me from going to him. It doesn’t.

  We’ve certainly had more mind-blowing sex and while we’ve been getting to intimately know each other bodies, we’ve also been getting to know each other beyond the case. He’s shared his favorite haunts in the city and where he thinks are the best places to eat. We squabbled over where to get the best Tapas in the city and he promised to prove me wrong. I look forward to it, even knowing it’ll likely never happen.

  He also shared his love of sports and his insane obsession with Pearl Jam, despite his age. He claimed to have almost every concert t-shirt ever printed. I challenged him on that.

  He asked thoughtful questions about my love of art and the Gallery. Having been so closed off from sharing, at first, it was hard for me to let him in on my passions. Then before I knew it, I was spilling about my waylaid dream to be an artist. Had I finished my masters, I was then going to pursue a career as a painter.

  Thinking of him as a friend, a companion, is dangerous and forbidden territory. There’s no denying that’s what he’s become. My lover and my closest friend. And now, dragging my sorry self through the past two days has not been fun. It’s only been two days since we last saw each other and yet, I’m anxiously counting the minutes till I see him. Tate, get a grip.

  Noel slows in front of another safe house. Without waiting for the car to come to a complete stop, I’m out and cross the lawn. Ry opens the door before I can even knock. Seems like I’m not the only eager one.

  Grabbing me by the waist, he swiftly shuts the door. He hauls me in with my back up against the door. His hands are everywhere, my hair, neck, back, waist, bottom; touching, teasing, tempting. Our lips are locked, teeth and tongues feverishly devouring.

  “Tate,” he whispers, his forehead on mine.

  Stepping back slightly, I mourn the loss of him. There’s too much space between us. I get it, we need to close this down. Gain some control and restrain the lust. It’s written all over his face – the desire, the want, the hunger.

  “I need you. Now,” I whisper. “Fuck me.”

  Whoa, my direct and dirty declaration surprises me. While all true, I’m not used to boldly demanding what I so desperately crave. I’ve never done it before. He makes me bold.

  I want this more than my next breath. Since our first time together, something has shifted inside of me. Something new but also familiar has taken hold. And even with all of this, I’m also terrified.

  I don’t do casual sex, never have, and now, even though I shut down when forced, it’s not casual. When I’m present like I am with Ry, sex is beyond amazing and I’m not even talking about the physical pleasure. It’s the emotional bond. It’s the giving of myself to someone I trust, respect and want to be with. I can’t kid myself, I’m in deep. This is more than sex.

  And now, in Ry’s arms, I can’t deny myself. To deny this overpowering bond with Ry.

  “Are you sure?” his penetrating eyes search mine.

  His deep, gravelly voice rumbles through my chest, barreling straight to my sex. Restless anticipation bolts through me. Words aren’t possible right now. My chest heaves, hands tremble as I cling to him. I nod.

  “Tate, I need to hear it.”

  “Yes, I want you to fuck me,” my voice needy yet sure.

  Not wasting any time, he carries me to the bedroom. With legs wrapping his waist, arms around his neck, my lips pepper kisses all over him. His scent overpowers me, evaporating all rational thought. I can’t get enough of him.

  Still connected, he removes my blouse in one swift move. Warm, rough fingers skim the sides of my chest as his strong lips kiss along my collarbone and neck. Without realizing it, my bra’s unhooked and falling to the floor. Ry stops, taking a fraction of a step back.

  “Fucking perfect,” his raspy voice is tinged with reverence.

  One look from him and I’m undone. His eyes flare with desire. My body quivers as his tongue suckles my breast. My knees buckle as hot embers shoot from the nipple he’s worshipping straight to my core. It’s physics, cause and effect, on steroids. Explosive.

  He’s got me. Strong arms hold me in place. His tongue continues its assault while his calloused hand showers attention on my other breast. A low hum skitters across my lips.

  My hands have a mind of their own. Mapping every inch of his hard, sculpted back from neck to ass, seizing his firm, magnificent globes, and then up his taut arms. His teeth tweak and bite my nipple, almost to the point of pain. His tongue sucking at my flesh. My head lolls back, my hands weave his hair, holding him in place. A moan escapes my lips.

  I need. An achy, unbearable need. All I want is him. I quickly grab, frantically peeling off his shirt to reveal his beautifully chiseled body. He’s truly magnificent.

  His broad shoulders, the contours of his hard six-pack abs taper to defined hip muscles forming a delectable V. My tongue itches to trace those firm ridges, and his faint, dark, happy trail leading into his black boxers.

  As I ogle, he chuckles, shaking his head. He swiftly removes my jeans, taking my panties with them.
Sucking in a breath, his grip’s firm almost biting, holding me still.

  “Lie down,” he commands.

  Without hesitation, I’m spread before him, naked on the bed. Apart from our first time together, I have no qualms with him taking control. He leads, I will follow. Looming over me with an expression of tenderness and hunger, his gaze roams me like gentle caresses. I shiver with anticipation.

  “Tate, you’re gorgeous.” Hearing the adoration in his words, floods my chest with tingling warmth.

  Removing his boxers, his big, hard cock juts toward me. He crawls onto the bed, only stopping once he’s hovering above me. His lips press to mine, nibbling, biting and sucking my bottom lip before his tongue plunges into my mouth.

  His hands leisurely shadow my curves from shoulders to ankles, memorizing my body. His lips trail from my chest with kisses between my breasts, my navel and then above my mound. His scruff satisfyingly scrapes the insides of my thighs, whimpers of pleasure pass through my lips.

  His first lick of my sex pushes me to the edge of insanity. His tongue swirls, circles and teases as I thrash, eagerly clawing at his hair. Everything is spinning. He’s consuming me. I war between pulling him closer and pushing him away. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m falling, falling apart as his tongue delves inside, licking and sucking my orgasm right out of me.

  Kissing his way up my body, I’m still reeling from the best release I’ve ever had. My body’s dynamite-red, ablaze. Every touch ignites my flesh, heats my core and sears my soul.

  He grabs the foil packet from the table, tearing it open with his teeth. I’m mesmerized as he sheaths his long length, his head glistening from drops of pre-cum.

  Lining himself up with my entrance, his swollen tip slowly slides in, barely in and then out. Ry watches me as I look to where we fit together, perfectly. Teasing me, his tip slides a little deeper in and then out.

  Releasing a frustrated whine, my nails dig into his back and my feet into his ass. I need him, all of him, inside me now. Blinding me with his mega-watt smile, he slowly and achingly thrusts deep and hard into me. As deep as he can go. Yes.