Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3)

by Calinda B

  His broad hand slid beneath her back…an array of straps finessed underneath. He guided and positioned them just so, until her torso was crisscrossed by the slender furry bands, her breasts surrounded, straining between the confining pieces. Another strip wound around her other arm, ending with more plush restraints binding her hand and wrist. He affixed this one to the other side of the bed. He kissed and licked her taut body, taking his sweet time while her ears were serenaded by Zed’s sultry, sexy mix of music. The sensory stimulation made her feel hallucinatory.

  An ice cube held between the teeth of an extremely warm mouth landed on her breast. She gasped in surprise. He moved it in slow circles around her areola, icy droplets rolling down her side while his fur-covered hand stroked the other breast. He sucked her nipple and the ice into his mouth with hungry intensity, still petting the other breast with infinite tenderness. She writhed against the sensation of opposites—aching, painful need from the cold nipple in his mouth on the one side; singular yearning from the warm downy strokes on the other side.

  He stopped the sucking and stroking and withdrew.

  As La Femme d’Argent by Air filled her head, she wondered where he’d gone.

  He stretched the length of her, pressing that damn, out of reach erection against her shorts.

  “Take my pants off, you devil,” she said, or thought she said—the music overpowered everything.

  He must have heard her, because soon her front zipper slowly unzipped and seductive skin met either side of her waist. Her shorts and panties were shimmied from her legs, along with sweeping comfort issued by one fine pair of artistic, sensitive, male hands.

  Beck thought she’d come from the contact.

  Again, the long, lean length of Zed stretched by her side. His hard cock rocked into her hip.

  She let out a strangled moan. She could feel the hard heat of him, pressing against her thigh, feel the silky glide of her skin being lubricated by his pre-cum juices as he undulated against her but she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t take him in her mouth, nothing. Her skin literally felt on fire, every nerve ending wired to him, aching to be stimulated, aroused, tortured by touch.

  Usher began to croon Good Kisser, and she groaned and mumbled, “How would you know how I kiss that thing? You won’t let me touch it.” She swore she heard him laugh. Can he hear the music, too? Are his actions in concert?

  His fingers circled her belly, then moved lower, softly petting the coarse red hair between her legs. When he curled his fingers over her mons, she spread apart her legs and began to breathe like a dog in heat. One finger slowly entered her, moving in tiny, slippery circles along the walls of her want. Another finger joined the first and they moved in and out, begging her to surrender, tormenting her arousal. Her climax could be had with a single stroke along her clit. But no, the torturous man removed his sensuous fingers from her and he, and his blasted hand, rolled away from her.

  She felt her flesh practically suck away from her bones in the draft of his absence. She writhed and whimpered for him.

  A minute later the heat of this body molded against her once more. He brought the same finger, infused with her musky taste, combined with a sweet, viscous dollop of honey, to her lips. She sucked and twirled her tongue around his finger, drawing the ambrosial, piquant taste into her throat. Surrounded by the teasing touch of him, from his knees pressed against her sides, his fingers both in her mouth and stroking her jaw and face, to the blessed, slippery head of his cock grazing her belly like a taunt, her soul soared with his exquisite music and loving, seductive care.

  He brought his succulent lips to hers. The man knew how to kiss. His tongue entered her like an infusion of an intoxicating substance she’d never be able to live without. His lips were softer than the petal of a rose. The kiss seemed to consume his attention, and hers, as he gave himself to her through his mouth, his tongue, his now-honeyed lips. His hands cupped her head, fingers massaging and caressing her scalp. His soul patch added a soft scrape, scrape, scrape against her chin. The fur binding her arms and torso, held her taut in luxurious tension. Her tightly drawn nipples brushed his chest causing her breasts to ache with anguished longing.

  She experienced herself being drowned in sweet, sultry sin, like dying a thousand damnable deaths in the blink of an eye and wanting to die again. The kissing consumed her, driving her to the point of madness. She wanted him to draw her inside his soul, to be extinguished by his desire. She felt as if the universe of Zed Farrell lay in his mouth, and she, a star throbbing in his celestial cosmos, being lovingly, exquisitely devoured. She felt to be his entire existence, being worshipped by a kiss worthy of legends.

  After several long, long moments of pleasure, he slowly withdrew his mouth, rolling away from her.

  The coldness of his absence gave her goose-pebbled flesh and a cauldron of desire, as if he, the skilled magician, wound a spell around her from the outside in, binding their souls through mesmerizing sensory witchcraft.

  A pitch perfect soprano female voice pierced her mind, singing Georges Bizet’s opera Carmen. She knew the song thanks to her mother playing it when Beck was a mere youth. Twin sensations of delicate fibers traced the sides of her neck. She tried to discern the source of sensation. Feathers? Camel hair paintbrushes? Whatever it was, it yielded pure heaven.

  The gossamer hairs stroked her shoulders, painted her collarbones, lingered in the hollow of her neck. They moved around her breasts, flicking the rosy nubs. They outlined her ribs, sweeping down to her belly. Completely immersed in sensory rapture, Beck yielded to everything.

  Large hands urged her legs wide. The fibers stroked her folds, drawing desperate moans from her throat as they slid along her clit like a diaphanous tease. She hovered like a hummingbird at the edge of orgasm, having never experienced such sweetly seductive torture.

  Typically needing constant stimulation to climax, this delicate coaxing seemed to whisper the orgasm out of her. Animal-like moans and cries burst from her throat as the climax rocked through her. “Zed,” she cried. “Oh, God!” She shuddered with the full body, mind blowing surrender as it rippled through her body.

  Zed once again conformed along her side, gently stroking and soothing her back from the rapturous release. She drifted to the sounds of opera, falling toward the edge of sleep.

  As if he knew her body rhythms and recovery, his fingers began playing at her opening. He placed himself between her legs and she instantly returned from near-slumber.

  A booming bass beat and snare filled her head. The weight of Zed settled on top of her as Trent Rezner began to sing Closer, in Nine Inch Nails raunchy fashion. “Sweet baby Jesus,” she uttered, completely bewitched. Her legs spread wide. This is it, she thought. This is where I finally get to be filled to the core with Zed Farrell.

  He rolled slightly to the side and the drizzle of cold lube trickled between her legs—as if she needed any. She felt drenched with desire. Her lips parted and she began to pant like some sex-crazed animal in estrus. Her head rolled side to side.

  Zed began to stroke his swollen head from clit to core and back again.

  “Ahhh,” she moaned.

  He positioned himself at her opening, easing inside a fraction of an inch.

  “Mmm,” she hummed.

  He slowly sank inside, stretching her wide with his immense cock, giving her time to adjust.

  “Sweet Zed,” she said. “You feel delicious.” If he replied, she couldn’t hear it, her ears overwhelmed with Nine Inch Nails.

  Zed began pumping into her, in rhythm with the music. He’d move fast and hard, then slowed it down, bringing his fingers to her clit to stroke and stimulate.

  Trent Rezner gave way to Madonna’s Erotica, an old school favorite she’d seen the artist perform when she was barely sixteen. She’d pretended to go on an overnight stay with her friend, Zusanna. They’d hitchhiked into Seattle, tickets in hand.

  Zed continued to move in concert with the music, making her wonder if he wore headpho
nes, too. Whatever. Didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the huge climax cresting in her body, and man, oh, man was it a big one.

  Zed gripped her hips as she came, and it seemed like he experienced his own release. The roar of a male drowned out someone or other’s voice and Zed’s frantic thrusts burrowed into her throbbing core with unbridled, spectacular release.

  “Sweet Jesus,” she cried. “Zed,” she cried, followed by a long, loud moan.

  As she slid down from her high in the sky, awash with pleasure and sensory ecstasy, she wondered if she’d finally found a place to land. A tiny smile flitted across her face as she realized that, yes, she, Rebecca Tosetti, the flitterer, had finally found a place to stick around and explore—more like a man to share life with. She hoped the murderous brother wouldn’t get in the way.

  Chapter 22

  Zed carefully, gently unwound Beck from her restraints, nuzzling and kissing her as he proceeded. He placed them in the side stand along with the washed and paper towel dried camel hair paint brushes, congratulating himself on the purchases. He massaged her arms, bringing life back to them.

  She pulled the blindfold free from her eyes, blinking in the soft light, the room nearly dark, as night settled in to replace day. She removed the headphones, as well. She gave Zed a brilliant dazzling smile. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” he answered, grinning back.

  “You’ve transformed me.”

  “And me, as well.”

  “I feel quite different. Wow.”

  He gathered her in his arms and spooned against her back. “If this is what it means to love someone,” he whispered, “I’m all in. One hundred percent committed to you,” he murmured into her neck.

  “Are you telling me you love me?” She pulled his arms tightly against her.

  “Yes, Beck, honey, I love you. There’s no mistaking what I feel.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered.

  He didn’t really want to chat and hoped she felt the same. “Now, shhh, sweetheart.” He stroked her hair away from his face. When her breathing grew deep and regular, he rolled away from her, covered her with a soft throw, and pulled on his jeans.

  He wandered into the kitchen, Sidekick by his side, to prepare some food and sort his tangled thoughts. His head still felt mushy, like all his brain matter had been rearranged in an extremely pleasurable manner. Unable to rest contentedly in what he’d experienced with Beck, however, his restless mind churned up new data—like how he wanted to protect her now, even if it meant he had to die to do it.

  Animal instincts are primitive and deep. Imagine if I’d fallen in love with Jace’s fucked up sister and had sentiments such as these. She’d have said, ‘can you get me some heroin before you check out, please?’ Or imagine falling in love with Nora? He shuddered. I’d be sharing her with a whole platoon. No, he decided, love is better spent on someone worth loving. People throw their hearts away for the wrong reasons…or with the wrong person. He smiled and nodded at his reasoning, actually congratulating himself on waiting to fall in love.

  He filled a bowl of water for the Labrador. The dog gratefully slurped, dog tags jingling. He wandered to the blanket Zed had folded on the floor for him, turned in a circle and lay down with a sigh. Zed cracked the door for him, so he could go out and relieve himself if needed. Beck was right—he was a good dog, obedient and well behaved. A non-problematic dog who minded his master, or mistress, in Sidekick’s case.

  After opening a beer and taking a long swig, he pulled fresh zucchini, celery and bell peppers from the fridge, retrieved the cutting board and set to chopping slices. Most of the time, cooking could be one-pointed, eliminating the need to ruminate—slice, slice, slice, scoop, throw in pot. Add spices. Stir. But he’d never been in love.

  And he’d sure as hell never experienced anything as powerful as what he and Beck had gone through—both the sharing about his brother and then the total sensory pleasure blitz. His thoughts were chaotic, like a somersaulting typhoon.

  The food prep process proceeded in a haphazard fashion—chop, chop, chop…maybe I’ll chop everything, put it in the pan, turn the burner off and head back to bed. Slice, slice, slice…if my brother lays a hand on her, I’ll mess him up so badly, he won’t be able to stand for weeks. Stir, stir, stir…yeah, I definitely want to go back to bed. Turn her on her stomach and take her from behind.

  He stirred the mixture absentmindedly, thinking the sizzle in the pan didn’t come close to the sizzle between his legs. His cock had decided the course of action, loud and clear. “Food can wait.”

  Sensing his shift, Sidekick scrambled to his feet, tail wagging.

  “Yeah, she got me where it counts.” He grabbed his crotch, as if a show and tell would have meaning for the canine. “I’m at her mercy.” He set the knife decisively on the counter, flipped the burner off, washed his hands, and strode back into the bedroom. Quickly stripping off his pants, he crawled next to his very own sleeping beauty, ready to arouse, his dick aching to be inside her. When he pressed against her backside, curving around her beautiful, rounded butt, he positioned his cock at her juicy opening, rocking his hips.

  “Mmm,” she responded sleepily, dreamily. “You smell like food and lust. I wondered where you’d gone.”

  He swept her tangled hair away from her shoulder to nuzzle and suck. “I had this dumb idea. I thought I wanted to sort my thoughts and cook you a meal. I changed my mind. I want to fuck you, love you, and fuck you again.” He eased his stiff dick inside of her velvet core. “You’ve bewitched me, you naughty temptress.”

  “Nuh uh. I’m the one who’s bewitched.”

  Her hand reached behind to caress his hips.

  “Touch yourself. Make yourself come while I fuck you.” He guided her hand to her clit. “Make yourself come, honey.” His hips began pumping, as she fingered herself.

  A few minutes later they both orgasmed, hot, quick and dirty.

  Zed wrapped her tightly in his arms, wanting to linger. He kissed her neck and shoulder.

  “Now we know we can do it hard and fast,” Beck said softly. “I hate to break the mood but I’ve got to pee, badly. I’ll be right back.” She scrambled from the bed, and returned a few minutes later. She slunk toward him like a red-headed tigress, her breasts hanging pendulous, like tasty fruit.

  “Mmm,” Zed hummed. “Bring those delights over here where my mouth can reach them.”

  “Not so fast,” she said. “You’re getting all the fun. Do you know how long I’ve waited to get my mouth on you?”

  “Tell me. How long?” Zed experienced an easy languor, lying in bed, tossing teases back and forth with Beck.

  “Would you believe when you walked in the bar weeks ago, the first thing I thought was, ‘now there’s a guy who’s well hung’?”

  He laughed. “Nope.”

  “I’m serious,” she said, straddling him. “I actually thought that. Then I thought, ‘I’ll bet he knows how to use it, too.’”

  Zed laughed again. “You’re messing with me. I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m dead serious. I was seriously horny and attracted to you from the start.”

  “You mean all my frantic efforts to get you to go out with me were for naught? I could’ve simply said ‘come with me’ and you’d have come?” He folded his arms behind his head, delighting in the view of the shapely goddess sitting on his hips.

  “I might not have come…not like I did tonight. But I would’ve gone out with you.” She fingered his chest with feather soft caresses.

  He liked the feel of her touch.

  “And truth be told, you were right. It took a little more effort to get Tyler out of my system. Maybe I needed to see what effect my indecision had on him. I guess life can be perfect that way.” She ran her palms across his abdomen. “Do you think people can fall in love at first sight?”

  “Do I think people can or do I think you and I did?” Zed studied her.

  She chewed on her lower lip, then swallowe
d. “You and me. I think I may have…or may not have…” She grinned. “I’m kidding. I think I knew from the start we’d connect.”

  “There’s connecting and then there’s connecting. Which one did you think you’d do with me?” Zed gave her a teasing smile.

  “I don’t know. I had a feeling I could experience something deeper with you.”

  “Before I was plastered or after?” The smile turned self-deprecating.

  She rolled her eyes. “Before. After you pounded your head on the bar top, I hoped you weren’t an alcoholic. That would put a crimp in things.” She scooted up, rested her plump breasts against his chest and kissed his chin.

  “Yeah, addiction in any form is a downer. Except when it comes to you. I’m addicted.”

  “Ha ha. Liar.”

  “Not kidding.”

  Her face grew serious. “Yeah, now I know you’ve had a lot on your mind.” She reached out to smooth the creases forming on his forehead. “Shhh. That’s a topic for another time.”

  She kissed away his cares making him wonder how he’d managed to be with this mind-blowing female.

  “So how does it feel to be in love?” She flashed her wonderful saucy smile at him, eyes twinkling.

  “It feels great. I’m glad I waited. No sense having a half-ass experience of love.”

  “What happens now? Now that you’ve made the big reveal? Most people are afraid of the big reveal, you know.”

  “I’m not most people. I might have been afraid of guessing or making it up, but when we were out on the deck, I suspected. When we gave ourselves to loving, I knew.”

  “Me, too.” She brought her lips to his for a tender kiss.

  When she withdrew her lips, Zed said, “After I shared with you and you didn’t bolt, I believed I could trust you.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. She slid down, coming to rest on his thighs, hands at his hips.

  He chuckled. “Actually, it’s simpler than that. After I shared with you and you didn’t run, my dick said, ‘let’s go. Let’s stop dicking around and get to dicking inside this woman.’”