by CLIFF, J. C.
“Oh, on the contrary,” I interject, not wanting to see her put herself down. I reach out, taking hold of both her hands, hoping to provide her some form of comfort. “From what I heard, the poor guy had a major breakdown after your disappearance.” Her head whips around with speed, her hair flying in her face as she searches my eyes, seeking the truth.
“Then why didn’t he wait for me?” she asks, her voice hoarse. Her question kind of pisses me off. She shouldn’t care that he’s not available anymore. My forehead wrinkles, and my eyes narrow with irritation.
“Wait for what, Jules?” I ask, highly annoyed. “Nick doesn’t play games, and he made damn sure that chapter in your life was closed. Adam had to marry, because if he didn’t, Nick would’ve ended his life.” She gasps, and then her features turn distraught as she tries to pull out of my hands. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry.” I squeeze her hands, not letting her go. I pull her toward me, placing her between my legs. I mentally berate myself for snapping.
“Come and sit with me?” I ask hopefully, changing my voice to a softer tone. Her face turns sad and she drops her chin in defeat. “I don’t want to fight, Jules. I just want to go back to what we had. Please, come sit down beside me.”
I let go of her hands, and lean over the side of the swing, picking up my glass of iced tea off the porch floor. I take a sip of the cool, sweet concoction, then lean back against the wooden slats on the swing, patting the empty space.
I watch her closely as she slides in beside me, curling her legs underneath her sexy little sundress, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to my side. “I’m sorry about this morning,” I admit. I use my feet to push off the floor of the porch, giving us a little swing. “You want a drink?” I offer her the glass of tea.
Her eyes never leave mine as she takes the glass and then takes a small sip. Seeing her plump lips wrap around the rim of my glass makes me want them wrapped around my cock. I miss her, and yet she’s right here. Apparently I have no shame, because as I take the glass from her hand, and with a shot of courage, I lean in to brush my lips against hers. When she doesn’t pull away, slap me, or tell me to go to hell, I figure I have her approval, so I swipe my tongue over her soft lips. All I want to do is go slowly and savor the tender feel and taste of her.
I groan when she opens her mouth willingly to me, and then she darts her tongue out to touch mine. Not hesitating, I take without apology and slip my tongue past her lips. When our tongues collide, the coolness of the iced tea she has on her tongue and the warmth of her mouth makes for an erotic contrast.
“I think my favorite kind of kisses are make-up kisses now,” I mumble, grinning over her lips.
“How do you do that?” she whispers, panting over my lips.
“Do what, darlin’?” My lips twitch with a knowing smirk as I bend over and place the glass of tea on the floor. I love how my kisses always affect her reasoning abilities.
“Make my belly flip and dip every time you touch me?” An unsuppressed laugh escapes me, and she takes a playful swat at my chest. “Well, it does. Every time we touch, I seem to lose my self-control. It’s like you’ve got this voodoo magic thing going on every time I get within five feet of you.”
A sly grin spreads across my lips. “So is that the secret? Keep a five-foot rope around you?” She takes another swat at me, and I grab her wrist, pulling her into me. “Hey, now. I’m not doing anything we haven’t done before. Your body already knows what it likes. It’s your mind who’s fighting you,” I counter with an intense stare. “Kiss me again, and then deny me. Tell me no; I dare you.” With those last words, I make my move and assault her with a scorching kiss, tasting her in such a way she can do nothing but take what I dish out. I pull her body flush against mine, and she moans. Her pert breasts rub against my chest. I use my free hand to cradle her cheek, tilting her head to the side so I can delve deeper into her mouth.
I will never be able to get enough of her. Talk about a landslide of love—I’m in an avalanche. I pull away just enough to tease her with my tongue, making her dizzy with desire as I whisper a seductive challenge over her lips. “Tell me you’re not on fire for more. Deny me now, and tell me we aren’t meant to be together.”
“I can’t,” she whimpers as she opens her mouth wider, searching for me, but I continue to hold back.
“Damn right you can’t. You may not know where you belong, but I do. I never had a moment’s doubt.” I give her everything I have as I unabashedly drive my tongue into her mouth, thrusting in and out of her warmth as our tongues tangle with heated passion. I grab her by the back of the neck, forcing her body to meld with mine as I fuck her mouth with my tongue.
My hand leaves her cheek to slowly peruse a trail over the soft, supple skin of her neck. Her pulse is racing beneath my fingertips. My hard-on is killing me. I want so badly to slide into her tight pussy and experience the euphoria of coming deep inside her. I then cup the swell of her breast in my hand and pinch her hard nipple. She whimpers in my mouth, my name a whispered prayer. “Travis.”
I soothe the injury, rubbing gentle circles over her breast. Her hips move in time with my tongue, and I know her little pussy is on fire. I blindly find the hem of her dress and slip my hand underneath the material. I trail my fingers along the inside of her thigh, and I groan when she spreads her legs apart, giving me free access. My fingertips slip past the elastic band at her apex, and I dip two fingers past her folds. She’s so wet I slip all the way in to my knuckles. “You’re so damn sexy.” I take pride knowing I got her juices flowing faster than the speed of light. She helplessly whimpers in soft little pants, moving her hips against my fingers as she tries to get more penetration, but I back off.
“What do you want, Jules?” I gruffly whisper between kisses.
“I want you, Travis.” Her breathing is erratic, and her kisses grow sloppy. It’s sexy as hell to watch her lose all inhibitions. She fists my shirt material in her hands, breathing hot and heavy when I let her come up for air. “Please fill me.”
I smother her with hot passion and give her what she wants. Torturously slow, I pump my fingers in and out of her wetness, stretching her silky walls. Oh, God, I think I’m gonna love make-up sex. Everything feels new, raw, and fervent. I pull my fingers out of her heat and wipe her juices over her clit, rubbing back and forth over her firm nub. She turns her head to the side, gasping for air, trying to stifle a moan. I dip three fingers in this time, and grin when her lungs deflate with a loud, “Ohhh, my God.”
“You like feeling that fullness, sweetheart? You’re pussy has soaked my hand. Let’s see if I can make it sing.” I work all three fingers against her g-spot while using my thumb to slide over her wet clit. I pull her lips back to mine and swallow her moans and whimpers.
I can tell when the sensations start to become too much for her to bear, because she tries to pull away from our kiss, and at the same time, her legs want to clamp down, shutting me out. I’m not having it. My grip tightens around her neck, making her take the over-stimulated pleasure. The heat between us is so intense my tongue could start a fire in her mouth.
Using more pressure, I circle her hard nub faster and faster, and drive my fingers in long and deep. I make her pussy take everything I have. She can’t hold still; she’s writhing all over my fingers as I hold her lips to mine. I’m thoroughly enjoying her fucking my fist, and after a few more minutes of torturing her, I let her have her release. I curl my fingers inside her tight walls, pumping inside her over and over as my thumb relentlessly works to stimulate her to orgasm.
When she detonates, she spasms around my fingers. Her legs shake uncontrollably, and she goes slack in my arms. As her orgasm rips through her body, I continue my assault until I feel she’s spent every last ounce of her pleasure. When her tremors settle down around my fingers, I slowly bring them to a halt, leaving them deep inside her.
When I pull back to look in her eyes, I can feel her restrained love for me. Her blue eyes are so inten
se. The way she’s looking at me, it’s palpable. I will never let her go, not as long as I see this. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I love her, but I hold back. Maybe because I want to make sure I’m not rebound material. Fuck, I don’t know. It’s torture not knowing where her head is. I know she’s in her own living hell right now too.
“I need inside you now, baby,” I rasp. I need to be one with her. “That was sexy as fuck.” I slide my fingers from her wet heat, latch onto the crotch of her panties, and tug.
“Travis,” she whisper-squeals, suddenly aware of what we just did.
“Don’t go shy on me now, baby. Thinking you’re gonna get caught is half the fun.”
Her breathing quickens again, as does mine when she lifts her hips, allowing me to slide her panties off. As she turns to plant a hand on either side of my chest to straddle me, I quickly peel off my gym shorts. No sooner does my rock-hard cock spring free does she take pause, and then quickly decides to drop to her knees in front of me. “Oh, hell,” I groan. She’s wearing a devilish grin as she peers up at me.
“Deny that you don’t want this,” she taunts, using my own words against me.
“Don’t be a damn cock tease, woman. You know I want your sexy lips wrapped around my dick.”
“Language,” she scolds playfully.
“I’ve got your language, baby…” Before I can say anything else, the words get caught in my throat as she leans forward and licks the tip of my dick. “Fuck,” I groan. I watch her mouth as my length slowly disappears past her lips and deep into her warm, inviting mouth. As she pulls back, her tongue rolls over the tip, and I’m going to explode watching her do this to me.
She takes me all the way in this time, and I fist my hands at my sides, hissing through clenched teeth. She’s warm and wet, and a shiver rolls through me as she bobs her head over my hard length.
She switches her technique, applying suction as she sucks me in deeper. Holy hell. My chest rises and falls with quick pants, and then she undoes me. She uses her tongue to lick and caress a sensual trail along the underside of my dick as her little hands come up to cup my balls. She rolls them in her hands, fondling me as she takes me all the way in. I feel her lips hit the base of my cock, her throat opening fully as I slip in a little deeper, and I’m done for.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I’m two seconds away from exploding, and I want to make this last. I lean forward and lift her up onto my lap, and her legs automatically spread open, straddling me. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” I breathe heavily, trying to get myself back under control.
Her eyes glisten and dance with satisfaction that she can undo me at the drop a hat. “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask wryly, arching a brow.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” she whispers with a smirk as she hikes up her dress, and then she settles her opening over the tip of my head, taking control of the situation again. I grab her hips to slow her down before she can slide down over my length, but I’m too late. She impales herself fully in one quick stroke, and I lose my breath.
“Oh, God, woman.” She grinds herself down and around to the base, seeking friction against her clit. Damn, she’s a little minx. Her sex squeezes me tight, making me see stars. I have to slow her down. I use all my strength to hold her hips still as I stay nestled deep inside her. “Slow down, baby,” I plead with labored breath. I lean forward and take her lips in a gentle, endearing kiss.
Once I have my dick back under control, I use my upper body strength to guide her hips up and down at my pace. I pull out just until her pussy holds the tip of my cock in her, and then I control the movement of her hips, gyrating her pussy over me in small tight circles. “Feel good, baby?” I whisper, but before she can answer, without warning, I slam her hips down over my length while thrusting myself upward in one hard, deep thrust.
She cries out into the night. I grind her clit over my pelvis, and then lift her hips up again to repeat the sweet torture. “Fuck, you feel so good,” I groan. The sensation of our hips moving in tandem with each other, stretching and circling into her with my thickness, has me close to the edge. I take her nipple into my mouth, and suck hard at her breast through the thin fabric.
“Oh, God, Travis,” she cries, holding onto the wooden slats behind me for stability.
I repeat the process of lifting her off me and swirling her hips as I tease her with the tip of my dick. Each time I slam her pussy down over my length, she groans, and it feels as if I’m entering her tight pussy for the first time, every time. I loosen my grip, letting her work me the way she wants while I gently rock her back and forth.
“Please, don’t stop…I’m coming,” she breathes out on a frantic whisper. Her head falls back as her eyes squeeze shut, and I pick up the pace, digging into her hips as I thrust in and out of her. Her entire body quivers with euphoria, milking my shaft, and I can’t hold out any longer. I let the sensations take over, and lose myself in the depths of this beautiful woman, growling out my release.
After we both come down from our high, I wrap her tightly in my arms. She snuggles her nose into my neck, and sighs. I run my hands underneath her dress, and up the length of her back, needing to feel her soft, supple skin. I softly caress her with the pads of my fingertips. I don’t want to lose this connection we have. Lately, it seems after our blind passion fades away and we separate, there’s always something that causes friction. I’m sick of us both driving wedges. I’d sleep on this porch swing all night if it meant she’d fall asleep with me still inside her. I’ve never been superstitious, but damn if it hasn’t crossed my mind.
I continue to swing us back and forth at an easy pace, allowing the crisp country air to cool us off.
“Travis?” she mumbles into my neck.
“Hmm?” I respond, lost in thought.
“I have a question.”
I can’t stifle my laugh; it comes unhindered. “Of course you do, Jules.”
She sits up, and looks at me with false irritation.
“Okay, fine. I’ll give you that one, but I do have a concern,” she says as she twists her body and places her fingers along the incision mark Stryker had to make to get her tracker out. “I feel a small knot here where that tracker was taken out.” She looks from her hip back to me with troubled eyes. My brows furrow at her comment as I brush her fingers away and feel for myself.
“I feel what you’re talking about, but I think that’s normal healing.” My lips thin as I concentrate, carefully palpitating the tender area. “It doesn’t feel or look swollen, and it’s not warm to the touch, so I don’t think it’s infected. In all seriousness, I think you’re fine. It’s probably just a little scar tissue. I think it’ll smooth out in a week or two.”
With my diagnosis given, she relaxes back into me, laying her head back on my chest. I kiss the top of her head and breathe her in. I don’t want to think what life would be like without my Jules. I hug her a little tighter, thankful I have her in my arms tonight.
Jules
I jolt awake, my heart pounding in my throat. I’ve broken out in a cold sweat, and my body is trembling. I was living in a nightmare; it felt so real. I was shooting at people and watching them fall to the ground, saw them writhing in pain as they bled to death. I press my hand to my heart and feel it beating out of control. My gosh, that was absolutely horrid. Is this what it's going to be like every night when I close my eyes and go to sleep? Will I have to relive nightmares about killing people, seeing blood, and have massive adrenaline surges that wake me up out of a dead sleep only to find myself soaked in sweat, and distraught?
It would be really nice to have Travis comfort me right now and softly stroke my hair while whispering in my ear, telling me everything is going to be fine. I roll my head to the side and see he is out like a light and softly snoring. I close my eyes and sigh. I really don’t want to wake him. He has gotten next to zero sleep to speak for the past forty-eight hours. I think he’s been running on solid adrenaline. He’s
always been a light sleeper, waking up anytime I would stir, but right now, he’s sleeping deeper than I’ve ever seen.
I roll over, look at the clock on the nightstand, and sigh. It's four o'clock in the morning. I get up on my shaky limbs and shed my soaked clothes. Cold chills race down my arms and over my bare body, making me shiver. The air conditioning wreaks havoc on my clammy skin.
Not wanting to disturb Travis by rummaging around, I slip on the first thing I can see in the dimly lit room. My jeans and a clean t-shirt it is. Of course, call me a weirdo, but I can’t put on a tight fitting t-shirt without my bra. I can’t stand my nipples poking out against the thin fabric.
I curl myself up on the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and pull a blanket around me, trying to get warm again. The last thing I want to do is climb back into a cold, damp bed, so I sit here wide-awake and begin to think about things I probably shouldn’t be thinking about.
Gazing upon his sleeping form, he looks so tranquil as his chest rises and falls in an easy, peaceful rhythm. He’s so damn handsome. Well…let me rephrase; he’s so damn hot. Things between us couldn’t be any more messed up right now, and one question in particular that sticks out like a sore thumb is, Why hasn’t he ever told me he loves me?
This relationship I’ve found myself in, if you can call it that, has been built on nothing but lies. I mean, the sex is absolutely phenomenal, but once we calm down from our passion, what’s left? All of the things Quinn told me about them working with the mafia, and the way they all run around with guns and killing…I’m not comfortable being a part of that lifestyle.
I close my eyes and rest my forehead in my hands. I’m so confused. I miss my dad, and I miss Jake. I know between Jake and my dad, they can help me sort through all the rubble in my head. They can help me see things from a different perspective. My fear is that I have Stockholm Syndrome.