Frostbite (BearPaw Resort Book 3)
Page 13
Dear God, nothing turned me on more than a woman who looked like she was praying over my dick.
Her nails dragged over my abs as her other hand grabbed my rod and held it out. She scratched my stomach again as her soft lips wrapped around the tip and slid all the way down.
A choked sound left my mouth, and I thrust forward, pushing my cock against the back of her throat. The pleasure-pain combination of her nails and the way her lips gently dragged back up my shaft literally made my knees shake.
I felt her gaze up my body as she took me deep again. Our stares locked as I watched her suck me good.
She sucked until my balls strained against my body, then released, pushing my length up against my stomach to draw my balls into her mouth.
Slowly, she drew back, leaving my slick, throbbing cock pointing straight at her. I glanced down, barely able to see through hazy eyes, and watched her slip her hand down into her crotch, move it around, and then draw it back out.
I shivered when she wiped the slick juices coating her fingers over the sensitive spot on my head.
My eyes rolled back. They reopened when she started kissing up my stomach, pushing the shirt higher as she went. I ripped it off over my head and leaned back against the door.
Bellamy arched against me, her warm chest rubbing mine.
Without any thought, I kissed her. Swirling our tongues together, wrapping my arms completely around her. Gliding my hands down her back, I delved into her jeans, beneath her panties, and cupped her ass. She pushed her cheeks into my hands and dropped her forehead to my chest.
Slowly, my hands crept down into her crack and toward her dripping center. Her legs were shaking when I brushed a finger over her bud while my other hand caressed her ass.
On instinct, I picked her up, pinned her against the wall, and thrust upward. A sound of frustration filled the room when my dick met fabric and not her hot center.
“I trust you, Liam,” she whispered.
I drew back. “I love you so fucking much it scares the shit outta me.”
Her palm lay against my cheek. “I know.”
In one swift move, I had her on her back on the floor. I yanked the remaining clothes off her body and pushed her legs wide with my palms. I sat there on my knees between her legs, holding her thighs wide and staring at her glistening center.
Her legs stayed wide when I moved my hands. I speared her with my dick in one swift push.
Both of us cried out, and yeah, I might have said a little prayer.
Breathing heavy, I pulled back and plunged into her again. And again.
Then once more.
Her body rocked against the carpet as I pushed deep, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
I pulled back, and she whined a little, reaching for me. “Don’t stop.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I rumbled, picking her up off the ground. “I’m just getting started.”
I took her against the wall, across the dresser, and then I mounted her on the bed. Her sweet ass lifted in the air for me made me want to hammer in her as deep as humanly possible.
I didn’t, though, taking it nice and slow because, as I discovered, when it came to Bells, I had control, even when I had none.
My baby was inside her. My heart might as well be.
Here I thought I would have to almost angry fuck her to get some relief, but I was wrong.
So wrong.
Pulling out, I moved her so she was under me. Her hands slipped up my chest, cupping my pecs. Her thumb drew lazy circles on my neck. Bending down, I rubbed my stubbled chin over her lips and cheek. Our lips caught and held when I moved back into her body, going deep and rocking slowly.
Pushing up, I held myself over her, staring down with awe and lust swirling inside me. “I was never going to find it,” I rasped, pushing into her and rotating my hips. “By carrying those pills around in my pocket.”
She moaned and opened her eyes. “Find what?”
“Control. Peace.”
Bellamy reached around and gripped my ass. I quickened my pace, release working its way up from my balls.
“Let go,” Bellamy whispered.
I bore down, pumping into her as rough as I dared. She called out my name over and over, until it was literally the only thing I heard.
She came apart beneath me, and I shattered over her.
We both clung to each other, quaking with aftershocks, her inner walls flexing, milking what was left of my erection, stroking it. Teasing it… Challenging it.
A few minutes later, I pushed up and glanced down, thrusting into her again.
Bellamy’s eyes went wide. “Again?”
I was partially shocked. Then again, she literally had no idea how badly her body called to me. How badly I’d been starved.
I began backing out, but Bellamy pushed me back in. Her body was warm and soft. Her walls stretched to fit me perfectly.
“Bells,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around her body and holding her to me as I thrust with renewed lust.
She gave up complete control, and oddly, it made me gentle.
After I erupted the second time, I fell off to the side, wholly spent. Bellamy rolled with me, draping her body over my chest and snuggling close.
“I know you don’t see it,” she murmured, her fingertips dancing over my abs. “But you are a king. The king of my body and of my heart.”
I chuckled. “Then I guess that makes you a queen.”
She propped her chin on my chest. “Do you feel better?” she asked, a little twinkle in her eye.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.”
“Yes. I feel better.”
She laid her cheek against my chest, and I lightly rubbed her back.
“Liam?” she asked after a while.
“Hmm?”
“You haven’t taken any of those pills.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“But you’ve been carrying them around.”
“Every day,” I said, truthful.
“Why?”
“In case I needed them.”
She nodded and snuggled closer. “Kind of like my emergency bag I used to keep in my closet.”
I stilled. That fucking bag. I hated it. I hated everything it stood for. I hated she kept it, that it gave her something she needed to feel secure.
She had an emergency duffle, and I had a pocket full of pills.
The only difference was her bag couldn’t fuck up her entire life.
“Where is that bag?” I asked, dragging my fingers up her spine.
“I don’t need it anymore,” she murmured.
My fingers stopped, and she lifted her head.
“Why don’t you need it anymore?”
“Because I have you. If I used that bag, it would mean I would have to run away from you. I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t.”
Holy fucking shit.
Her emergency duffle and my pocket full of pills, while very different, offered the same thing: escape.
Escape Bellamy didn’t want.
My chest was tight. So tight it burned. The lump suddenly in my throat choked me, and my fingers visibly trembled when I brushed the long strands of her blond hair away from her face.
“There’s something I need to do.”
Bellamy
“Like right now?” I asked, even as he carefully shimmied out from beneath my naked body.
He laughed. My God, it was such a pure sound that tears sprang to my eyes.
“Right now.” He held out his hand, almost as though he were asking me to go on some adventure with him.
I put my hand in his, allowing him to pull me from the bed. I reached for my shirt, and he growled. “You don’t need clothes where we’re going.”
I made a face. “Says the man who is literally picking up his jeans.”
White teeth flashed, and my heart skipped a beat. A laugh. A grin. In the span of a few heartbeats.
He was lighter.
&nbs
p; Suddenly, Liam seemed a little less frosty and just a little bit warmer.
What can I say? I was really good in bed. *wink*
“I’m not putting them on,” he said, draping them over his shoulder and reaching for my hand again. He led me into the bathroom and stopped in front of the toilet. “I need you to help me with something.”
“I’m not holding your wang while you take a pee.”
Liam’s hair flopped when he threw his head back and laughed. Then he laughed some more.
My lips twitched because his amusement was kinda funny, but at the same time… What the hell was he laughing at?
“Baby, no one says wang. And men don’t ‘take a pee.’ We piss.”
I wrinkled my nose. “So you can say things like ass taxi, but I can’t call your thing a wang?”
His lips twitched. “You can’t call it a thing either.”
“Well, what should I call him, then? Your Royal Highness?”
Liam seemed to consider it. I smacked him in the stomach. “Why are we standing over the toilet, Liam?”
He pulled the jeans down and delved his hand into the pocket, withdrawing a palm full of pills. Sadness washed through me, but I tried to hold it back.
I failed.
“Oh, Liam.”
“Don’t you feel sorry for me, Bells.”
“I don’t. I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t come to me.”
He smirked. “I just did. Twice.”
I gestured to the pills in his hand. “This isn’t funny.”
“I know it’s not,” he said, serious. “I’ve been carrying these around, almost tempting myself.” His voice dropped an octave. “They aren’t even mine. I stole them out of Mom’s medicine cabinet. They were Dad’s.”
“Maybe that’s part of it, then.” I hypothesized. “Maybe you took them because they were your father’s.”
His voice was stern, “Don’t make excuses for me.”
“So why didn’t you take any?” I asked.
“You believe me?” he asked, curious. “That I didn’t take any?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.
“Why?”
“Because even if you did take them, I would still be standing here. I would still love you just as much.”
“I think that’s why I didn’t take any,” he confided, glancing between me and the pills. “That night I came to Alex’s. The night I crawled in bed with you?”
I nodded.
“I was close that night. So close to swallowing a few.”
My stomach ached thinking of it. Picturing him standing upstairs in the bathroom, staring at the pills, internally debating if he should. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was at my breaking point that night. Instead of taking the pills, I came to you.”
“You didn’t say anything,” I whispered.
“I didn’t have to. Being beside you was enough.” He twirled the length of my hair around his hand.
A tear splashed over my cheek. “I’ve been so worried about you.” I wrung my hands together. “At first, I thought you hated me. And then I found the pill, and I was terrified you relapsed. I wanted to ask so many times.”
Liam let go of my hair and shifted closer. “I will never hate you.” A low sound vibrated his throat. “You should have said something. All that stress on you and the baby. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I shook my head. “I’m just glad you didn’t relapse.”
“And I’m not going to.” He confirmed. “You know why?”
“Why?”
The silver-gray of his eyes was mesmerizing. The way it changed and flashed with every emotion that went through him.
“Because I have you,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over my cheekbone. “Because I don’t need an escape from any of this. Because escaping would mean running away. I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t.”
A sob broke out of me. “That’s my line,” I wailed.
Liam hooked the arm not holding the pills around me and tugged me close. His lips kissed my hairline and then the center of my forehead. I looked up, and he kissed a tear off my cheek.
“I can handle anything as long as I have you.” He pulled back, brushing his hand over my stomach. “This little guy, too.”
I watched as he dumped all the pills into the toilet. The white tablets floated around before he reached over and flushed.
“Wait,” I said and rushed from the room. I found the pill I’d had in my pocket and brought it to him as well.
He plucked it out of my fingers and flushed it, too.
When all the pills were gone, he exhaled and smiled as though a giant weight had just been banished from his shoulders.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said, going forward and hugging him. “I can’t even imagine how hard that was. But you did it.”
“I did it for you.”
“No.” I pulled back quickly. “You do that for you. No one else. You are worth being sober for, you and you alone.”
“Hey,” he crooned, taking my hand. His voice was almost shy considering we were standing in front of a toilet naked, holding hands. “This doesn’t mean I’m cured,” he said, cautious. “I’m always going to be an addict. There’s always going to be that… urge inside me. I was strong enough today, but I might not be strong enough a year from now. It might not be the last time you find a pill in our bed.”
“I said it outside. I’ll say it anywhere. I’m with you. No matter what. I’ll always be here.”
“I love you, Bells.”
“I love you, too.”
Out in the bedroom, I pulled the shirt Liam had been wearing over my head, letting the fabric fall past my thighs.
“You feel like a shower?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I’ll wash your back.”
I reached up and fisted my hand in his unruly hair. “Mmm, yes, please.”
The sounds of Charlie’s low growl seemed to echo through the entire house. My body went taut, and I jerked away from Liam, eyes wide.
There was a loud knocking sound, and the dog started barking ecstatically.
Heart thumping all the way into my neck, I tugged at the shirt I was wearing. “Liam?”
His body was tight as he listened. The dog continued to bark, and then the doorbell rang.
Liam relaxed instantly and came to me. “Someone’s at the door. That’s all.” He assured as Charlie continued to bark. “Mom will get it.”
“Your mom isn’t here. She ran an errand.”
He flashed a smile. “Well, I guess that’s good, considering the show we put on out on the deck.”
I knew he was trying to make me feel better, that the fear on my face had probably been intense. I blew out a breath and tried to smile.
“I’ll get it. It’s probably just someone with another damn casserole.”
Suddenly, the idea of being down here alone was very unappealing. “I’ll come with you.”
“You aren’t wearing pants,” he pointed out.
“You aren’t wearing a shirt.”
He shrugged. “It’s a double standard, sweetheart. What can you do?”
I stuck my tongue out at him as he left the room, hollering for Charlie to shut up. I grabbed a pair of yoga pants to pull on beneath Liam’s shirt and then pulled my hair up into a messy topknot.
By the time I was done, my heart had returned to normal, but I was still shaken.
Between my reaction out on the deck earlier and then again with the door, I was beginning to realize something.
I still didn’t feel safe.
I was beginning to wonder if I ever would.
Liam
Did I ever mention I’m not a fan of casserole?
Kinda wished it was a casserole on the other side of the door right now.
“Joiner,” I said, regarding my trainer/coach. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Mattison,” he replied, looking me up and down. I wasn’t offended
. It was kinda his job to assess how I was.
Rather, it used to be.
“I came to pay my respects to your father. I was hoping to see you at the reception, but you, ah, left early.”
“You went to my father’s memorial?” I said, oddly touched.
He cleared his throat. “I know we, uh, like the snow and all, but you mind if I come in?”
“Shit, sorry, Tom,” I said, shoving open the door and letting him in. When I turned from the door, he was already taking off his coat and boots.
Guess this wasn’t going to be a quick visit, then.
When he was done, he regarded me. “Of course I came. Renshaw was a hell of a man. I had no idea he was sick. You should have told me, Mattison.”
“I told you I was having some personal problems,” I muttered.
“Your father dying goes beyond that.”
“It wasn’t the cancer that killed him,” I said, my throat tight.
“I heard. No need for you to rehash it all now.”
I relaxed a little. “Beer?”
“I could do with a beer.”
I led him to the kitchen where I tossed him a longneck and then grabbed one for myself. I would probably need one for this conversation. Seeing him was like a kick in the nuts.
Tom Joiner was a visible reminder of all the years I spent working toward something and how quickly that something got smashed to hell.
Oh, wait, that was my knee.
My dreams and life just followed suit.
I popped the top off the beer and took a long pull, the cold liquid sliding down easily. There was some movement in the doorway, and my mouth kicked up a little. “Bells, come here.”
Joiner lowered the beer from his mouth, suddenly interested.
Charlie walked in first, Bellamy close behind. She was still wearing my shirt with some pants on underneath it. Her cheeks were a little pale, which concerned me, and I wondered if it was the baby kicking around her stomach or the scare of the sudden visitor.
The dog sniffed in Joiner’s direction, but when he held out his hand, Charlie stuck by Bells.
That led me to believe it wasn’t the baby. She was nervous, and Charlie sensed it.
I held out my arm, and she walked into it, fitting herself at my side. “Bellamy, this is Tom Joiner,” I said. “My old coach.”