Out of the Ashes

by RC Boldt

  He slows to a stop, withdrawing his hand from mine and tugging my wrist, so I’m moved out of the path of others walking along the sidewalk in the downtown area. “Are you comparing me to an overeager, animated puppy?” Hendy eyes me from beneath the brim of his hat, his tone low and playfully dangerous.

  “What if I am?”

  The corners of his lips tilt upward, edging into a lopsided smirk. “You’re going to pay for that, young lady.”

  Reaching around, I smack his ass playfully, grinning. “Ooh! Are you threatening me with a good time? Count me in.”

  Then I walk off with a skip in my step. Waiting, waiting, waiting …

  A large, masculine hand grasps mine again. I glance at Hendy from the corner of my eye as we walk, approaching where he’s parked his truck along the side street’s curb.

  “Seriously, though. You were pretty imposing back there.”

  He presses the button on his keys to unlock the vehicle. “Is that so?”

  Turning abruptly, I crowd him, walking him back against the truck. “Yep. That was hot. The way you got all quiet and scary.” I pause for emphasis and lower my voice. “And sexy.”

  He grins. “Really? Do tell. How hot was I back there?”

  “Let me show you.” Wrapping my hands around the back of his head, I tug him down, rising to my toes and tilting my head to press my lips against his. At the touch of his lips against mine, something ignites, and the kiss instantly turns hotter, tongues warring, his lips working over mine feverishly.

  Drawing away, Hendy’s unsteady breathing matches mine. “Any hotter, and we’ll have to charge people to watch us.”

  A tiny, breathless laugh escapes my lips. “Maybe you should take me home.”

  Pressing a quick kiss to my forehead, he offers me a gentle smile, sending warmth running through me. “Agreed. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  As soon as we kick off our flip-flops in my house, I clasp my hands together with an expectant expression. “So. I have a proposal.”

  “I’m not really ready to get married yet, Pres.” Hendy’s dry response has me rolling my eyes with a laugh.

  “Ha-ha. I actually wanted to see if you’d be up for trying something out with me…” I let my words trail off.

  He raises his eyebrows. “Such as…?”

  “Maybe, oh, I don’t know”—I wave a hand around in what I’m certain is not coming off as nonchalance—“like tying me up in the bedroom?”

  There’s a beat of silence. Then another. Then another.

  “You know what?” With an overly bright smile, I give a dismissive wave. “Never mi—”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry?” Surely, I didn’t hear him correctly.

  “Okay.” His smile is devastating and almost…predatory?

  “Oh.”

  A hoarse laugh erupts from him. “Wow. You sound thrilled.”

  “I’m just…surprised.”

  Stepping closer, he cages me in, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of me. “Pres. You offered to let me tie you up and have my wicked way with you.” His lips graze the shell of my ear before his teeth nip my earlobe. “There’s no way in hell I’d ever say no to that.”

  “Really?” My response is breathless.

  Playfully tugging on my earlobe, he sends shivers down my spine before pressing kisses along the column of my neck; his hot breath washes against my skin. “Really.”

  The tip of his tongue darts out to taste me, pressing his body closer and letting me feel his arousal. “The thought of you, restrained on the bed…” His breath is ragged as he rocks against me. “Feel what it does to me.” Another nudge from his delicious hardness. “Feel what you do to me.”

  My fingers encircle his wrist, guiding his hand down my body to slip beneath my sundress. Moving his hand between my thighs, I place it over my panties, my eyes heavy-lidded with lust and my voice husky. “Feel what you do to me.”

  Hendy pushes me over the edge at that moment as one of his fingers slides swiftly beneath the fabric and inside my wet heat. He pushes deep, and I can’t withhold a gasp before he decides to slowly withdraw, only to thrust in deep again.

  And that’s when I decide I can’t take any more.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Hendy

  When Presley moved my hand to guide me to touch her, as soon as I cupped her, I swore the amount of heat radiating from her was singeing me. But nothing could have prepared me for when I slipped my finger inside her, and the snug way her muscles contracted around me.

  Groaning against her neck, I push deep inside her, willing myself not to come in my fucking pants at the feel of her soaking my finger. Slowly withdrawing my finger from her pussy, only to thrust it deep, I listen as she lets out a low moan. But it’s the pressing of her palms against my chest that draws me to a halt.

  Her chest is rising and falling, and her breathing labored, those eyes of hers hazy with arousal. “You need to come with me.” The corners of her lips tip up slightly. “Pun intended,” she adds.

  Taking my hand, she leads me down the hallway to her bedroom, and I find myself mesmerized by the way her soft, silky hair shifts slightly over her shoulders as she moves and at the way her tight ass looks in her sundress. Immediately, I think about cupping that same ass as I thrust deep inside her pussy.

  Once we’re ensconced in the dark bedroom, Presley reaches for the small lamp sitting on the bedside table. With a soft click, the bulb glows on what appears to be the lowest setting, and I’m grateful for that small mercy.

  Spinning her around to face me, I grip her slim hips, walking her back to the bed. “Do you have something for me to tie you up with?”

  Eyes wide, brimming with anticipation and maybe a little uncertainty, too, she nods. “In the drawer.” Reaching for the small bedside table, she withdraws a long black strip of fabric. Before she can slide the drawer closed, I stop her.

  “We’ll be needing these.” I lift out the strip of condoms and set them on the table before my eyes meet hers again.

  She swallows hard. “All of them?”

  A rough sounding laugh falls from my lips. Because there’s thirty-six in a box. And since we already used some a few days ago, I’d say twenty or so are left.

  Smiling down at her, my hand brushes back some stray hair from her face, and I dust a kiss on her lips. “Not all but maybe”—I hold her gaze with mine as the pad of my thumb toys with her luscious bottom lip—“quite a few.”

  “Oh, boy,” she murmurs breathlessly.

  My tone gets firmer. “Now, I need you naked on this bed.” My hands skim down over her dress, reaching for the hem. Lifting it up and over her body to let it drop to the floor, I can’t help the stutter of my breath.

  Presley has surprised me yet again. In place of the usual pair of boy-short panties, she is wearing a lacy red thong with tiny, dainty ribbons on each hip. As my gaze drifts over her smooth stomach and upward, I discover the matching bra.

  Gaze flying to hers, uncertainty etches her features. “I know I’m not—”

  I press my index finger to her lips, stopping her. “Don’t.” Because I know what she was going to say. She thinks she’s lacking as if she’s not so fucking gorgeous that it’s killing me to refrain from tossing her back on this bed and fucking her without any fanfare at all and go into pure caveman mode.

  She’s so beautiful, and sure, her breasts easily fit right into my palms, but those rosy nipples beg for my lips, my tongue. Her ass is luscious, and those eyes of hers—those green and blue eyes that watch me with barely concealed lust—are irresistible. But that’s not the biggest draw with Presley. It’s her intelligence; her personality is what sends me over the edge.

  And I’m man enough to admit the old Hendy might not have been able to see past the parade of surgically enhanced breasts, the centerfold-like figures, the barely-there IQs to recognize what Presley has to offer.

  Simply everything.

  Carefully peeling h
er thong down over her hips, I allow my hands to graze along her legs as I lower the thin fabric and help her step out of them. Rising again, she reaches behind her for the clasp to her bra, and once she undoes it, I help to slide the straps down her arms, casting it aside.

  When she situates herself on her bed, her gaze tracks my movements. I can’t resist the hesitation as my fingertips move to the brim of my ball cap, slowly lifting it off my head and setting it aside. Gripping the rear of my polo shirt collar, I tug it off, letting it drop to join her dress on the floor.

  My hands shift to the waistband of my khaki shorts, and her eyes flicker downward, lips parting as if in anticipation. Unbuttoning and lowering the zipper, I shove my khakis down, kicking them off to the side. As soon as one of my knees hits the bed to climb onto it and join her, she stops me.

  “Wait.”

  Her tone is soft as she shifts to her side, reaching for me. Trailing her fingertip down the length of my hardened cock, she follows the path of her finger with her eyes. When she reaches the tip, she glides her finger around the moisture there, and I have to stop her.

  Encircling her wrist with my fingers, I draw her movement to a halt, her eyes flying up to mine.

  “Lie back on the bed, Pres.” I swallow hard, attempting to maintain some vestige of control. “I’ll be calling the shots now.”

  Eyes locked with mine, she slowly resumes her prior position on the bed before raising her arms above her head.

  With the long, black fabric in hand, I move onto the bed. Resting over her on my knees, I carefully bind her wrists together, leaving a line of slack before looping and wrapping the end of the fabric through the middle post of her headboard.

  Peering down at her, I duck my head, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead before leaning back. “Tell me if you want me to stop. If you want me to untie you.” Pressing a kiss to her lips, I whisper, “Okay?”

  She gives a little nod. “Okay.” There’s a pause before her eyes turn mischievous. “What happens if I don’t want you to stop?”

  Letting out a husky laugh, I grin, dipping to press a kiss to her collarbone. “Oh, I can just about guarantee you won’t want me to stop.” I trail kisses lower.

  “You sound a little full of yourse—” Her words break off in a gasp when my lips latch onto one nipple, sucking and flicking the hardened tip with my tongue. Presley arches into my touch, already struggling against her restraints.

  My thumb and forefinger toy with her other nipple while I continue to love her with my mouth and tongue. Slipping downward, I leave a trail of kisses along her stomach until I’m soon cradled between her thighs.

  I peer up the length of her body, my eyes traveling over the dips and curves and her now heaving chest. The way she looks as she’s lying so beautifully naked and partially shadowed here and there from the dimly lit bedroom, baring herself to me, causes something to tighten in my chest.

  “Ready to challenge my knot tying?” I nod toward where I’ve secured her to the bedpost, unable to resist a smug grin. My hands slide to widen her legs, and I lower my head, driving my tongue deep inside her—no pretense whatsoever, just me tasting her sweet pussy.

  And God, does it taste good.

  Fucking her with my tongue and lips, tasting her, I’m getting harder from the way she’s writhing on the bed. Her gasps intermixed with moans of my name push me even closer to the precipice, and pre-come leaks at my tip. When she begins to pull her restraints taut, causing my grip on her thighs to tighten further, it nearly makes me come right then and there.

  Reaching up, I tweak and toy with her clit with my thumb and forefinger. Instantly, more wetness coats my tongue. Pressing down on her clit and moving in circles, I can tell by her breathing she’s close.

  “Hendy,” she says on a breathless moan.

  Looking up, seeing her like this, at my mercy but so trusting, her eyes closed, breathing labored, nipples hardened peaks…I know this is one of those moments.

  One I’ll treasure because of the pure beauty of it.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Presley

  “I’m…” I trail off, ending in a silent gasp as my inner muscles clench hard, body tensing before my release hits me. As I ride out my orgasm, my body moves of its own accord, pushing against Hendy’s mouth and tongue.

  And he takes it all. He lets me ride his tongue in shameless abandon until the waves pass and my body relaxes, slumping back onto the bed. Pressing kisses to my thighs and up along my torso, he brings himself to rest on his forearms above me.

  “Hey.” Hendy’s lips graze mine.

  “Hey.”

  “You okay?” His dark eyes are searching.

  “I didn’t ask you to stop.” My whispered words belie the smugness laced in my tone.

  Nuzzling my neck, he speaks softly. “Who said I was stopping?” I can feel him smile against my skin. “I’m only giving you a quick breather to regroup.”

  “I’ve regrouped.”

  My rapid response has him leaning back with a laugh, grinning down at me. “Want me to untie you or are you ready for more?”

  My eyes are alit with humor. “Depends.” I raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Think you’re ready for what I’ve got planned if you untie me?”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He grins, throwing my former words back at me.

  Heat flares through me at what I plan to do to him. “Then maybe it’s your turn to be tied up.”

  Hendy’s entire body stills; his muscles rigid. And I realize how badly I’ve misstepped.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  “Hendy, I’m—”

  “Don’t,” he commands quietly. “Don’t.” His eyes are understanding, but I can detect the slightly haunted edge they have now. “I know.”

  “I just like the idea of having you at my mercy,” I whisper.

  Hendy watches me, his eyes flickering from mine to my lips and then back before reaching above me to begin working at my restraints. I strain to hear his soft response, but when his words register, I’m assaulted with emotions.

  “I’m always at your mercy.”

  As soon as I feel the give of my restraints, I lower my arms, cupping the sides of his face to hold his head in place. Gazing deeply into his eyes, I say softly, “Likewise.” Drawing him down, I press my lips to his in a tender kiss. My breath feathers against his mouth as I whisper, “I’m always at your mercy. Regardless if I’m tied up.”

  Palms braced against his firm pectorals, I push gently, silently asking for him to shift onto his back. When he acquiesces, I move to lie on top of him, relishing in the feel of his hard-muscled body beneath mine.

  And that’s not all that’s hard.

  Grinning wickedly, I use my teeth to playfully tug at his bottom lip. God, that thing drives me crazy. He’s got such incredible lips for a guy.

  “I see you’re ready for me, huh?”

  “Seems so.” I’m relieved to see the shadows have disappeared from his eyes.

  “Think maybe I can”—I reach between us to grasp his firm hardness—“figure out something to do with this?” No way can I restrain my wide smile.

  His hands go to my ass, and he lets out a long, satisfied sigh as his eyes fall closed. “As long as I can continue holding this ass, you can do whatever you want.”

  “Is that so?” Shit. I know he can hear the doubt in my tone—especially if I can hear it. Dylan always mentioned, in what I now realize were little digs here and there, about me not having enough meat on my bones, my body not being “lush” enough.

  His eyes open, narrowing slightly. “That’s definitely so.” One corner of his lips tilts up, a wicked glint in his gaze. “Maybe you can come up here and let me taste you again, and I can have the best of both worlds. My mouth on your pussy, and your ass in my hands.”

  Sweet baby Jesus. I swear I had a mini orgasm from his words alone. But no, he’s not going to distract me from my mission. No way.

  Shifting down his body, I press a
trail of kisses just below his belly button, following his goody trail down, down, down…

  “Pres,” he whispers, his fingers threading through my hair, and the moment my breath washes over his hard cock, they tighten their grasp.

  “I plan to make you come as hard as I did.” My tongue runs along his hardened length. “Maybe harder.”

  “Not sure if—” His taunting cuts off the moment the tip of my tongue darts out to lap up the moisture gathering at his tip. Sliding my mouth over him, I take him as deeply as I can. He’s so thick and wide, and I can tell he’s doing all he can to refrain from thrusting into my mouth and trying not to make me gag.

  I work my mouth over him, one hand gripping him at the base of his cock. Creating a suction, I can feel the moment he’s close.

  “Pres,” he utters on a breathless groan; his fingers tighten in my hair, almost painful in their grasp. “If you don’t want—”

  I hollow out my cheeks, cutting off his protest, and satisfaction rolls through me when he lets out another low moan. Because I know what he was trying to say. But I want him to come in my mouth. I want to taste him.

  Hendy makes a rough sound in the back of his throat as his hips work. He comes in spurts, and I swallow it all—everything he gives me.

  Once his body finally goes lax, I slide my mouth away, peering up at him only to catch his sated eyes watching me. Rolling my lips inward as if deep in thought, I tip my head to the side. “I’m pretty sure I made you come harder.”

  In a flash, his hands slip beneath my arms, lifting me up to rest atop his body, my face above his. His eyes alit with amusement. “You think so?”

  “Oh, yes. And I also know what you’re thinking.” Bracing my weight with one hand on the bed beside him, my other hand reaches up to brush off imaginary dust from my shoulder as I let out a dramatic sigh. “Job well done, Cole. Job. Well. Done.”

  A laugh bursts free from his mouth, erupting from deep within his chest, and that lopsided grin just…does something to me. But there’s one thing he continues to do. Even now.