"So this fuckin' guy tells me that he worked for Whitey and all the other mobsters back in the day, and he knows where the bodies are buried."
"Let me guess: he was a consultant for The Departed too. Everyone's a fuckin' expert when the film crews are in town."
Stella and I turned in unison, watching as two men settled at the table across from ours. It was less than an arm's length away and their conversation was jarringly loud. It was an inherently Bostonian moment, with these men sporting as much Red Sox- and Patriots-branded gear as they could manage on an evening when neither team was playing, and speaking at a level that superseded private conversation.
The Army was a lot like these guys. This town too. Unapologetic. Unflinchingly loyal. Physically incapable of quiet unless survival depended upon it. Unwilling to embrace newcomers until they'd proven their worth.
If it hadn't been for the Army, my sheltered Oregonian upbringing would have been in for one hell of a culture shock upon arriving in Beantown.
Stella bit her lip to hold back laughter. She slanted a glance at the table across from ours. "Should we—"
"I live on the other side of Beacon Hill," I said, thumbing some cash out of my wallet. "I can have you in my apartment and undressed in five minutes. Four if I throw you over my shoulder and run."
"That was also direct," she said. "For a guy who needed eight months to say hello, you're, like"—she punched her fist into her palm—"not holding back on the strong opinions."
"Come with me now," I said. I dragged my hand up her leg before reaching across the table for her hand. "We'll go somewhere quiet. We'll talk. I have a few other strong opinions to share with you."
"Just to clarify: I'm hearing your strong opinions while naked? Am I the only one naked or will you be joining me in that activity?"
I lifted a shoulder, let it fall. "Yeah," I replied. "If that's how you want it."
"That wasn't a clear answer but let me just say I wouldn't want to be the only one naked. That seems boring and weird," she said. "And I like when you tell me what you're thinking. Even if it knocks me on my ass."
"Don't you know by now?" I laced my fingers with hers. "I won't let you fall. I'll catch you."
She smiled, pointed to the scrape on her chin. "Your maneuvers are a little rough, my friend."
I shrugged. "Never said anything about gentle."
Stella pressed her lips together but she couldn't hold back her dimples. "Five minutes?" I nodded. Staring at our joined hands, she drew in a breath, held it for a beat, and then blew it all out with a tiny shake of her head. "Let's go."
I led her from the restaurant to the sidewalk. It wasn't so much walking as very aggressively striding out of the restaurant and onto the street. My grip moved from her palm to her forearm, then her elbow. I held her like that, like she was my prisoner, all the way through the Common and down Charles Street. She layered her hand over mine as if she was agreeing to this hostage situation.
We didn't speak. I didn't think it was possible. The tension between us was boiling over, a low hissing that required urgent attention. But not until we reached my building. If I forced words from my lips right now, they'd be the wrong ones. I'd ask if she minded ducking down an alley and me sliding my hand into her panties. If I could kneel at her feet and press my face between her legs. If I could take her against my front door, hard and loud enough for the entire building to know she was mine tonight. If she'd stay. Stay and never leave.
No, I didn't say a word on the seemingly endless journey to my apartment. I didn't do anything but place my hand over hers, both of us securing my hold on her.
I lived in an old brownstone, a tall, skinny building that once stood as a single residence but was now chunked into three apartments, one on each level. My problem-child trauma surgeon Stremmel lived on the third floor and Alex lived on the second with her fiancé. For the first time in all the years I'd lived here, I loved my first floor apartment with its street noise and the parade of people past my door. I loved it because it was two steps from the building's vestibule and one more step to be alone with Stella.
Once inside, I curled my hand around her raincoat's belt and backed her against the door. I stared at her while I flipped the locks.
"That was a long, long five minutes," she said.
"It's been a hundred years since we left the restaurant."
She nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. "I saw you eyeing those alleys. I'm beginning to think you're something of an exhibitionist."
A snarl rattled in my throat. "Not nearly, not when it comes to you." Her name was meant to be groaned, growled. I did just that as I bent to taste her lips. "Stella."
"Tell me how you're going to belong to me," she whispered against my neck, her lips moving just enough to trigger a shudder. "I want to know, Cal."
No lights. No need for them.
My teeth closed around the collar of her raincoat because it was the only thing I could do to repress a primal roar. I brought my hands to her ass, squeezing and boosting her up until I could rock against her and find a small shred of relief. I didn't get it but I kept searching, wanting it, wanting her. "I just—I want—I need you, Stella."
"No, no, no," she said. "Don't play shy with me now."
"I want you in my bed," I said, "and I want you to want to be in my bed."
Her lips captured mine, and there was perhaps two or three minutes until I came in my trousers and I made things even more awkward. My hold on her ass tightened and I rocked into her again, harder. I kneaded her backside. God, I wanted to bite it. Sink my teeth right into that supple flesh and then lick away the sting.
I wanted it. I was going to have it.
I leaned back, taking hold of her belt once more. "This thing is evil," I said, scraping a gaze over her. "Just evil. Get rid of it."
Stella had something to say about that—she always did—but I didn't wait to hear it, instead spinning her to face the door. I dropped to my knees and waited while she unknotted the trench. I was both pleased and annoyed to find a dress underneath.
With my hands coasting up the backs of her thighs, I asked, "Is there a reason you kept this coat on all night?"
"Torment, mostly," she replied over her shoulder.
My hands moved up, up, under her dress until her backside came into view. I pushed her panties aside, exposing one cheek. It was luscious. Better than I'd ever imagined and I'd spent a fair time imagining.
"Evil," I repeated. I edged closer, my gaze still devouring the sight of her. My eyes fluttered shut as I dragged my lips over the sweet swell of her ass. It was the trade-off I had to make. I couldn't have all my senses and an erection of this magnitude.
"If all you wanted to do was kiss my ass, I would've taken you up on the offer months ago," Stella said.
I filled my lungs with the scent of her, the one I couldn't place or describe but already knew as Stella, and then I did it. I bit her, just enough to leave a mark but not break the skin. Her body pulled tight against the pain but a breathy sigh followed and—and she canted her hips back, toward me. Asking for more. As quick as that, I was addicted and delirious and done for.
A red welt bloomed around the mark I'd made and that sight filled me with a heady blend of contradictions. Never in my life had I considered biting a woman. I wasn't certain I wanted to be in league with men who made a habit of biting women. But I didn't know how I'd draw another breath if I didn't feel her skin between my teeth again, if I didn't hear her sigh or see her wiggling her backside in my face.
At the sound of a shuddering breath, I looked up at Stella. She was gazing at me over her shoulder, her eyes hooded and her lips parted. My cock was burning under my trousers from this moment alone. "Don't stop," she whispered.
I didn't. How could I? I pressed my lips to her skin and nipped, lower this time. Near the junction of her thighs. She was glorious there, soft, smooth, delicious. And the sounds she made, my god.
I nipped again, closer to the heaven covered by t
hat scrap of cotton. Once and then twice, and then my only desire was biting every inch. Turning it hot and red. And that was what I did, hypnotized by her purrs and moans, until a starburst of teeth marks covered her bare cheek.
When I pressed a chaste kiss to her inflamed skin, I battled a surge of arousal and pride and doubt. I didn't understand why this turned me on, why I felt like I owned that ass, or why I struggled to accept what I'd done to her. None of it made sense but instead of puzzling it out, I kissed her again. No tongue, no teeth, just my lips on her throbbing backside.
"Stella," I said, my hands loose on her hips as I turned her to face me. I found her eyes wide and cloudy, somewhere between needing more and not believing she let me nibble her ass. I was right there with her. Couldn't believe it, needed a whole hell of a lot more. I hooked my fingers around the sides of her panties. "I'm taking these off now."
"It's about damn—ahhhh." Her words dissolved into a quiet scream as I dragged the fabric over her abused bottom. She beat her fists against the door at her back. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck."
I brought my hand to her ankle, squeezing so she'd lift her foot. When she did, I pulled the panties off and moved to her other ankle. With the garment out of my way, I ran my knuckles down the dark thatch of curls between her legs. "I'll make it better, Stel," I promised. "Is that what you want, sweet thing? You want me to take care of this ache? You want me to kiss it better?"
"I don't wax," she announced, her head tilted back against the door and her words shaky. "It hurts and it's expensive and I don't have time for that shit."
I brought a hand to my erection, squeezing it through my trousers. It was all I could do to keep from exploding right here. "Yeah, that's not a problem. I've dropped Blow Pops on the rug, picked them up, and enjoyed them just the same. Spread your legs."
She glanced down at me, at my hand on my cock. "Recently?"
I squeezed again, for her benefit as much as mine. "I don't see how that matters."
With a laugh, she said, "It doesn't but I'm trying to figure you out. I don't know many men who regularly consume Blow Pops. Or lollipops of any variety."
"Maybe they should." With my palms flat on her inner thighs, I pushed her legs apart. Even in the darkness I could see the shine of her arousal. "Where do you think I learned how to bite and lick?"
"Seriously," Stella replied, groaning. "You should've said something to me months ago."
Shrugging, I dragged two fingers through her slit. The scent of her was amazing. It wasn't fruit or candy or flowers, nothing that didn't belong in this sacred space. She smelled like a woman, rich and ripe. I breathed her in as I circled the pearl at her apex, tracing around and around while her hips rolled and her stance widened.
Fuck, she made a pretty picture. Bare from the waist down, flushed from the neck up. Lips parted, gaze lowered like she wanted to exist in this narrow space between us and nowhere else.
I spared Stella a quick smile. "Sorry about that. Didn't know where to start."
Around and around. Two fingers now, around and around. Another two fingers at her opening, just barely petting. Only enough for her to know I was there.
She laughed, brought her hand to my head. "You should've started with, 'Hi, I'm Cal and I might look nice but I'm a pervy beast and I'd like to wreck you up against a door.'"
"You would've gone for that?" I asked, sliding those fingers inside her. "Seems…inappropriate."
I didn't even care about my throbbing cock anymore, not with my eyes rolling back in my head at the feel of her muscles spasming around me. No, that wasn't entirely true. I cared a great deal about my cock and his satisfaction but Stella came first.
Her fingers tangled around my hair, gripping as much of the short strands as she could. "Nah, you're right. Tackling me was a much better choice. Your game's golden, sweetheart."
I wanted to laugh at that but the only thing I really wanted was my mouth on her skin. I leaned forward, dropping light kisses up and down her cleft. And she wanted that too. The way her breath caught, her words faltered, her fingers fisted against my scalp, her body pitched toward my mouth for more. No, it wasn't want. It was need. She needed me right now.
That knowledge alone was enough to do me in.
Stella's grip on me tightened. She angled me back, forcing me to look up at her. "I'm going to burst into flame right now," she whispered.
I brought my hand to her thigh, cupped the back of her knee. I pushed it up, settled her over my shoulder. I kept her steady with a hand on her ass—the unbitten side. "Not if I can help it," I replied.
She continued speaking but I stopped hearing, my pulse pounding in my ears and her creamy thigh drowning out everything else. I parted her folds and licked, giving no thought to style or finesse. My only objectives were tasting her and teasing her. Perhaps I should've leaned into my A game but this didn't seem like the moment for that. I had the rest of our lives to wow her with my technique.
It was a good thing we had time on our side because it only took one, two, three flat-tongued licks to set her off. She dropped her hands to my shoulders and pitched forward as I ran the tip of my tongue around her clit and pumped my fingers into her cunt and there was nothing more perfect than this moment. She let me caress her through the rise and fall of her release and then let me build her back up again. She climbed and climbed, her body impossibly tight, and then she broke.
"You're beautiful," I said, the words spoken against the jut of her hipbone.
"You're good with your hands," she panted. "Tongue too."
"If you liked that, I have another appendage you might enjoy."
Her gaze washed over me from head to toe and then back over again. "When I saw you this morning, I thought you were a man-brick." She stared at my zipper and the cock strangled behind it. A laugh burst from her lips. "It looks like I was right about that."
I sucked on a tiny patch of skin below her belly button while her body shook with laughter. I'd never experienced a woman laughing while I had two fingers inside her but I liked it. Didn't want it to stop. This dress though, I hated it with all the fury I could conjure. Not for any reason other than it being in my damn way.
I pushed to my feet and tore at my belt, my gaze fixed on Stella the whole time. "You want this?" I asked, yanking my zipper down. "You ready for this?"
She sucked in a breath, blinked, nodded.
No. That wasn't enough. "Words, sweet thing. Give me your words."
She beckoned me closer. I went, my trousers gaping open and my cock tenting my boxers, and pulled her into my arms. With my palms on her ass, I boosted her up, bringing her right where I needed her.
I'd spent months imagining a conversation with her and now her bare ass was in my hands and her lips on my neck and my cock was sliding over her most intimate places and I couldn't keep up here.
"I burst into flames, I did." She dragged me closer, fused her lips to mine, clawed at my neck and shoulders.
"That's not a yes," I replied, settling myself into the notch between her legs. The layer of fabric separating me from her warm, wet heaven didn't stop me from rocking forward or the tingle of release crawling up my spine. I thrust again, again, again, flattening her against the door and going half blind at the feel of her arousal soaking through my boxers.
"I—I—I," Stella cried between gasps, "I want—"
"Tell me, sweet thing. Tell me what you want."
Her hands shifted from my neck to my shoulders, down to my chest. She stroked her fingertips in tiny circles over the starched cotton. I expected her to reach for the placket and tear it right off but she said, "I want to wait."
She said this as I was rearing back, ready to torture us both with another rough thrust. My reflexes kicked into action and I set her down, stepped back. The rest of me hadn't processed the message. My cock was standing at attention, eager as ever, and the energy I'd gathered to pound her straight through the door was burning in my muscles. I stood before her, my breath snarling out like an angry
bull and my body heaving with anticipation.
I reached for her but she held up her hand, warning me off. "No. I want to wait."
"Then we'll wait," I promised. "I'm not asking you to change your mind. And I'm not going anywhere. I know all about waiting for you, Stel. I just—I wanted to hold you. If you're good with that."
She turned the hand she'd held up and pressed it to her chest. She was breathing as hard as I was. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Come back to me."
I folded her into my arms and rested my cheek on the crown of her head. My trousers were still open and my dick was still ready for action but as far as I was concerned, this was a fine substitution. I wasn't smooth or practiced when it came to women. I wasn't a player. I didn't want to spend my time with women who didn't interest me. Or wear lime green sneakers and let me bite her backside. And I didn't want to touch that woman in any way unless it was exactly what she wanted. Not today, not ever.
"You dropped me like a hot potato back there," she said.
"Yeah, you've seen the best of my awkward moments today," I said with a stiff laugh.
"I'm sorry about that," she said. "I'm sorry I let us get this far and—"
"Don't," I interrupted, holding her closer. "Don't apologize. There's no reason for it."
"A really big storage unit. One the size of Vermont."
I tilted my head to catch her eyes but she was staring at my shirt. "We're going to Vermont? Is that like Vegas for New Englanders?"
"No, it's nothing." Then, she whispered, "Shit."
I glanced down, concerned. "What?"
She shook her head against my chest. "I didn't get a picture of your driver's license. My friends are probably freaking out right now."
"Do you want to call them?"
Another head shake. "Not really. They'll be fine. It's not like they can file a missing persons report yet and I can't think of a single reason why I'd ever move from this spot."
"Me neither," I said.
"Except for lasagna," she whispered. "More cheesy than saucy."
"Incidentally, that's how I prefer it."
"Come on now," she chided, her face still pressed to my chest. "You do not. Take the score you earned. There's no need to cheat on the field goal."
Before Girl Page 7