by L. A. Witt
“From the sound of it, he’s your ex-boyfriend.” I lifted my chin. “I’ll say it one more time—get your shit, and get—”
He tried to shove past me. Without even thinking about it, I grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and slammed him face first against the refrigerator.
“What the fuck?” he shrieked. “Samir, tell your fucking goon to—”
“I’m going to let you go,” I snarled in his ear. “And when I do, what are you going to do?”
“Kick your fucking—ow!” He howled when I twisted his arm harder.
“Try again.”
“Fuck you! You’re—ow! Ow! Fuck!”
I glanced at Samir to see if he wanted me to back off. He watched coolly from a few feet away. Not smirking, but not exactly worried on Jesse’s behalf.
“One more time,” I growled. “When I let you go, what are you going to do?”
Jesse cursed under his breath, but he relaxed a bit, releasing a defeated sigh. “I’ll get my things and get out of here.”
“Good.” I let him go.
He gingerly rubbed his arm as he turned toward me. “Fucking psycho.”
“You haven’t seen psycho yet.” I motioned toward the living room. “Go.”
He glared at Samir. At me. At Samir again. Finally, with some more cursing, he stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room.
“Oh, that’s just awesome.” He groaned audibly. “Is it okay if I stay long enough to pick up everything your damn cats knocked over?”
Samir snorted and quickly smothered it with his hand.
“That was the crash we heard earlier, wasn’t it?” I whispered.
He nodded.
I snickered. Sobering, I squeezed his shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
His humor faded too, and he stared at the floor as he nodded again. “Thanks.”
I gave him another gentle squeeze, then moved into the living room to make sure Jesse was doing as he was told.
Like the kitchen, the living room was furnished, but everything was bare. Jesse’s possessions—mostly clothes, from the looks of it—had been placed in a couple of laundry baskets. At one time, they were probably neatly folded, too, but the cats had upended both of them and scattered the contents across the floor and into the hallway.
Jesse shot me a glare in between picking up a handful of underwear and a T-shirt. “Don’t know what he told you, but—”
“Save it. He wants you gone. The details don’t matter to me.”
He muttered something I didn’t understand. “Something must’ve mattered enough for you to attack me.”
“Attack you?” I laughed. “You went hands-on first, my man.”
He glared again. “So how long have you been fucking him?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve never touched him, but nice try.”
“Yeah. Okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Just get your shit together.”
He stood, a handful of underwear and a face full of excuse me? “You need to step off, okay? This is between Samir and me.”
“And he’d like you to leave.”
“Oh yeah? So why can’t he tell me himself?”
Before I could speak, Samir appeared beside me in the doorway. “Leave, Jesse.”
Jesse’s expression melted from fury and hatred to something a hell of a lot more pathetic. “Baby, come on. Let’s just kick this jackass out and talk this over. Okay? We’re—”
“Get. Out.” Samir’s voice dripped with venom. “Or so help me, I will call the cops.” He was a far cry from the rattled, timid guy who’d flinched outside the bar, and who’d come back later to ask me to be his backup. Maybe having someone here gave him the confidence to follow through. As long as the end result was Jesse out the door and out of his life, that was fine by me.
The idiot had finally collected all of this things and put them back in the baskets. Samir and I stayed out of the way—and Samir kept hold of the dog’s collar—while Jesse made his first trip out to the car. With the second basket in hand, he paused at the door.
“You’re really going to throw away everything we have?” he asked in the most pitiful voice I could imagine coming out of that mouth.
“Yep,” Samir said coldly. “Just like I throw away leftovers when they start growing fur.”
I barely kept myself from laughing.
“That’s fucked up,” Jesse said. “You’re both fucked up. You deserve each other.” Then he stormed out and stomped down the steps.
Samir and I were both silent as we listened to him leave. It was only when the car had faded into the distance that he released his breath. And the dog. Sagging against the wall, he closed his eyes and didn’t make a sound.
“Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
He nodded, eyes still closed.
I put a hand on his shoulder, and that light touch seemed to rattle his already shaky foundation. I thought he was going to collapse, so, not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arms around him.
He didn’t break down crying. It was nothing like that. More like the fight was just gone. Like he’d used everything he had to stand up to Jesse, and now that it was over, he could barely hold himself upright.
“There’s no way this is the end of it,” he said after a long time. “He won’t give up that easily.”
I stroked his short black hair because it just seemed like the thing to do. “Well, if he gives you more shit, call the cops. Or call me.”
Samir exhaled. “Thank you.” He started to pull back. “Having you here made a huge diff—”
Our eyes met.
Jesus. His eyes had been gorgeous before, but up close like this? So that was what people meant when they talked about eyes you could get lost in.
He cleared his throat and looked away, but only for a second. And he wasn’t getting very far with that whole letting me go thing. Did he want to?
He met my gaze again. My heart pounded. He was so close, I swore I could feel his pounding too.
And then, without warning, he kissed me.
Not an overly enthusiastic expression of gratitude.
Not a quick peck on the lips.
No, Samir full-on kissed me. His hand slid up onto my hair, the other arm tightening around my waist, and his soft lips moved against mine like it made perfect sense for us to be holding each other like this.
I couldn’t help myself. I held him closer, and I let him part my lips with his tongue. Trembling fingers grazed my scalp, sending a shiver through me. When I slid the tip of my tongue under his, he let go of a delicious little moan.
Then, just as abruptly as he’d started it, he broke the kiss, and he stared at me with a mix of shock and horror on his face.
“Oh shit. I’m…” He swallowed, loosening his embrace. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“Relax.” I tried not to let my disappointment show as he slipped out of my arms. “It’s—”
“I just… Damn it.” He leaned against the wall and rubbed a hand over his face. “Everything’s been shit for so long, and I just thought that would feel good, and—”
“Did it?”
He met my gaze. “Huh?”
I kept my tone and expression as neutral as possible. “You thought it would feel good. Did it?”
Samir swallowed. Then, so softly I barely heard him, he whispered, “Yeah. It did.”
I said nothing.
I just stepped across the narrow distance, cupped his face in both hands, and kissed him again.
Chapter 4
Samir
Elliott’s short hair was cool between my fingers. His body was hot through our clothes, and pressed this close together, there was no pretending we weren’t aroused. Not with two erections rubbing through denim every time one of us so much as breathed.
My back was against the wall, and Elliott had at least forty pounds of muscle on me, but he didn’t feel the least bit threatening. He was strong, and there was nothing passive abou
t his touch or his kiss, but I felt…held, not confined. Desired, not owned.
And my God, I wanted to cry.
I had actually forgotten what it was like for a man to touch me gently. For way too long, it had been at best rough, at worst violent. Not… Not this.
This isn’t why I asked him to be here.
That thought bounced around in my head, but it wasn’t enough to pry me away from him. Not this time. I’d known for a while that my relationship wasn’t right, that I deserved better, but hadn’t realized until this precise moment how much I’d been missing tenderness. Affection. Being kissed without dreading what came next. Knowing I could say no without things turning ugly. Elliott was a damn stranger, and he felt safer than either of the men I’d touched over the last five years.
One night stands had never been my M.O., but I was about to make an exception to that rule. Maybe I’d regret it tomorrow for reasons that hadn’t made it into my consciousness yet, but right now, he was safe, and kind, and gentle, and I wanted to fucking drown in him tonight.
I broke the kiss and shakily whispered, “Do you want to stay?”
“Kiss me like that again,” he panted, “and I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
I kissed him like that again. He held me closer. Tighter.
Then I made myself pull away and managed to murmur, “Bedroom’s this way.”
He let me lead him down the hall and into the bedroom. Mehrang and Nima were flaked out on the bed, but I snapped my fingers once, and they reluctantly thumped to the floor and trotted out of the room.
“Apparently they do cooperate sometimes.” Elliott wrapped an arm around me from behind and kissed the side of my neck.
“Yeah. S-sometimes.” I leaned back against him and tilted my head. “Fuck…”
A low growl emerged from his throat as he kissed up the side of my neck. “You sure about this?”
I guided his hand from my stomach to my cock, and he shivered, pushing his own hard-on against my ass.
“I know you’re turned on,” he breathed. “But…are you…”
“Please.” I pressed his hand harder against my erection. “I want you.” And I need this.
He groaned again, and when he kissed my neck this time, teeth grazed skin. I bit back a whimper and tilted my head even farther, offering up more skin.
“Turn around,” he murmured against my neck. He barely loosened his embrace, but it was enough. As soon as I was facing him, his hand was in my hair again, and he kissed me even more hungrily than before. I ran my palms down his back and tugged at his shirt. When I slid my hands under it, he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and pressed a little harder against me.
The hand in my hair tightened, and he pulled my head back. As his lips skated down my neck again, my knees shook. Elliott groaned, but then I realized it was me. We were still standing, still dressed, and I was more turned on than I could remember being in a long, long time.
He lifted his head and met my eyes. “Just, uh, tell me if things get going too fast. Because I have a feeling I could get really carried away with you.”
“Yeah?” I licked my lips. “How about this—you go right ahead and get carried away, and I’ll let you know if it’s too fast.”
“I just don’t—”
“Please,” I whispered. “I mean, I don’t really like things rough. But otherwise…”
“Not rough. Got it. But just say so if there’s something you’d rather not do.”
“I will.”
We held each other’s gazes. Then, he drew me back in, and as our lips met, he followed my lead and slid his hands under my shirt. I moaned at the hot, faintly rough touch of his callused skin on my back, and it suddenly wasn’t nearly enough.
“Clothes,” I said between kisses. “Off.”
“Mmm, good idea.”
We let each other go. As I stripped off my clothes, all my usual inhibitions and self-consciousness about my body were MIA, but I didn’t question it. None of that was nearly as important as finding out what it was like to be naked with Elliott. Which was crazy, because before he’d shown up tonight, I hadn’t even thought farther ahead than breaking things off with Jesse. I definitely hadn’t gotten as far as getting into bed with another man. Now that I was well on my way, I was surprised at how apprehensive I wasn’t. I should’ve been nervous at every turn. Flinching away from his touch.
But I wasn’t.
It had been so long since anything had felt this good. Fear was a distant memory. This was all lust and need and long-overdue affection.
I pulled back the covers and got into bed, and when I faced him again…
Oh yeah. Oh, I was so spending tonight in bed with this man.
Muscles. Tattoos. Dark hair. A thick cock standing at full attention. Those hypnotic blue eyes looking me up and down like he wanted to eat me alive.
I beckoned for him to join me. With a grin that electrified my nerve endings, he did, and suddenly I wasn’t just next to him, I was enveloped in him. Wrapped up in his arms. Under his broad, strong body. My legs tangled with his. Everywhere we could touch, we did. Every place he could warm just by being there, he did. We rocked together like one of us was already inside the other, cock rubbing cock, skin rubbing skin, and his kiss… Fuck, his kiss.
Elliott froze. He lifted his head. His expression wasn’t one of panic, but there was definitely some surprise and concern. “Uh, Samir?”
“Hmm?”
“I think… I think there’s a cat on my back.”
I craned my neck a little, and sure enough, Nima was looking down at me, eyes wide like hey Dad, what are you doing? I snapped my fingers, and he got down.
Elliott and I met each other’s gazes.
And burst out laughing. He let his head fall against my collarbone, and I clapped a hand over my eyes, and we laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing. Fucking Bengals, man.
I swore I nearly broke down crying, too. Sex and kissing and being turned on were spectacular, but when was the last time I’d laughed with someone in bed? I could remember feeling alone, wishing I was alone, crying into my pillow, trying really hard not to cry so I wouldn’t wake up the man sleeping next to me and make things worse. But laughing? No.
Fortunately, I kept myself together, and when Elliott lifted his head and found my lips again, it didn’t take long for us to go right back from cracking up to making out. This position was perfect, too—with him on top of me like this, both my hands were free to roam his gorgeous body.
He dragged his lips along the underside of my jaw, then let them brush my own for just a second before he whispered, “Tell me what you want.”
“I told you. I want you.”
He grinned. “I mean, what do you want me to do?”
“Anything. I don’t care.” I lifted my head off the pillow to kiss him, then broke that kiss just enough to murmur, “Everything’s perfect so far.”
“Except the cat interrupting?”
I laughed. “I don’t know. That was pretty funny.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “It was. Well, if you don’t have any preference…” He started down my neck again, but this time, he kept going. As he crested my collarbone, I shivered and arched under him. He didn’t stop. He paused to lick a little circle in the middle of my chest, then trailed kisses lower and lower.
“This…” I groaned softly. “I like where this is going.”
His lips curved into a grin just above my hip. As he followed my hipbone inward, I propped myself up on my elbow so I could have a better view.
He traced the groove of my groin with the tip of his tongue, then teased my balls and even the inside of my thigh. I just stared, barely able to breathe, never mind comprehend the sensations this man was gently unleashing with little flutters of his tongue. Somewhere in my head, a little voice warned me against letting go and losing myself in this, reminding me he was a stranger and this was probably nothing more than a pity fuck, but to hell with that voice. It hadn’
t made a peep when my two exes had each moved in for the respective kill, so I really wasn’t interested in what it thought about everything I was going to do with this hot stranger who—
“Oh, fuck.” I moaned as he ran his tongue along the underside of my cock. He did it again, and when he reached the head, he swirled the most mind-bending figure-eights around it until I was almost seeing double.
“Like that?” His grin said he knew damn well what the answer was.
“To paraphrase you,” I murmured, “do that again and I’ll let you—” He did it again. “Ungh.”
Meeting my gaze, he said, “Tell me everything you want me to do.” He flicked his tongue just below the head. “Everything that’ll make you crazy tonight.”
“T-tell… Right now?”
“Mmhmm.” He started kissing his way down toward the base. “I want to hear it.”
“I can’t… You want…” I shuddered hard as he tongued my balls. “Can’t talk.”
I could feel him grinning, the bastard.
“I know you can’t.” He licked his way back to my cock. “That’s what makes it fun.”
I cursed again, equal parts aggravated and turned the hell on. “I want you to do that. Suck my cock.”
“Mmhmm. What else?” He closed his lips around the head, and just in case I still had any ability to speak, licked around it too.
“Fuck.”
He didn’t let up at all. Lips, tongue, even his hand—he was relentless. And so, so good.
Well, fine. If he wanted to know what I wanted…
I licked my lips and forced my eyes open, watching him blow me while I figured out how to talk again. “I want to fuck you.” The words tumbled out, and I almost panicked. What if he didn’t like bottoming? What if—
He groaned around my dick, then deep-throated me. Well that answered that question—he did not mind bottoming.
The thought of riding his ass, running my hands all over his tattooed shoulders and muscular back… Oh God. My balls tightened and my whole body tingled.
“You like that idea?” When had I run out of breath? “Letting me fuck you?”
The sound he made was definitely a yes. Then he lifted off my cock and met my eyes. “‘Letting’ might not be the right word.”