by Jenika Snow
Brendan might be one of the hardest workers I had, and I might have known him for years, but he needed to back the fuck off Maddie before I lost my shit. When it came to her, I didn’t mess around, not with other guys showing interest in who I wanted. He kept talking to her, his voice smooth, his desire for her coming out loud and clear, pissing me off even more. Maddie was watching me, despite the fact that Brendan was trying to be all smooth, even if he didn’t know why the hell she was here.
“I’m actually here to see Deacon,” she said, her focus on me. But Brendan was oblivious to the fact.
“I can help you with whatever you need.” He moved a step closer. “The boss is probably busy anyway.” When he went to take another step toward her, I reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, making him stop. He turned, this annoyed look on his face until he saw it was me.
“You got work to do,” I said, letting go of his shirt, my voice flat, my expression mimicking my indifference to him, although inside I was jealous and possessive and wanted Brendan to know he had overstepped a big fucking line. “And she’s off-limits.” I didn’t hide the steel in my voice, the seriousness of what I was getting at. I watched as he swallowed, realizing I wasn’t joking. “Get back to fucking work.” I tipped my chin toward where the other guys were. When he left, I turned my attention to Maggie. I could see she was shocked.
“That was…” She looked down but glanced up at me a second later. “That was barbaric.”
I didn’t move, didn’t even respond. I realized when it came to Maddie, I was pretty fucking barbaric, a caveman at his worst. And I didn’t apologize for it.
Maddie
I had no idea what in the hell had just happened or what was going on, but the little scene Deacon had made with the guy named Brendan—who had his name stitched on his shirt—made me feel all kinds of strange things. I’d come here because truth was I wanted to be the one to make plans for us to see each other again. I wanted to take control of my life. I wanted to show the man who’d ensnared me in such a short time that I wanted this too. I was still a bit embarrassed by last night, at my drunken come-on, but I was also feeling pretty incredible. Deacon had showed me he wasn’t the type to take advantage, even if it wouldn’t have really been like that, since I was more than ready for him. Hell, I’d wanted him since well before that night.
“I…” I wasn’t sure what to say, how to react to the possessive side he’d just shown me. Maybe I should have been wary of the fact he’d all but staked his claim on me to that poor worker. Sure, Brendan had been laying it on thick, and it was something I’d seen in his expression well before he even started speaking to me, but that wasn’t the point. It had been harmless, and Deacon had been so territorial.
And then there’s the part of me that melted at that, the part that got turned on, wanting to see how far he’d go to make it known I was his.
“I don’t know what to say about that,” I said and glanced at Brendan.
“He wouldn’t have treated you with respect.” Deacon crossed his arms over his chest. “He would have just tried to get between your legs.”
I bristled at that. Deacon would know his worker better than me, and maybe Brendan would have tried that, but acting like a caveman about it? No, not cool, logically.
“Even so, I can handle myself. I don’t need a guard dog.”
Even if said guard dog is super sexy and makes my insides tighten with awareness.
And Deacon’s response? He smirked at me. I should have been annoyed, but that smile looked good on him, so good.
“I didn’t expect you here,” he said and started cleaning off his hands with a rag that already looked dirty as hell.
“Maybe I wanted to keep you on your toes.”
The look that came over him told me I was affecting him, maybe in a way he wasn’t wholly ready for. Good.
“You’re certainly doing that ten times over.” He grinned then, and the sight totally transformed him. He didn’t look so hard-ass right now, didn’t look like he could kill a man with his bare hands. He looked almost human. I liked it, but then again I liked the other side of him too, the raw and rough part that made me feel like a woman.
“But Brendan needed to know his place.” He tossed the rag aside. “He needed to know you’re not his.”
I stared at this beast of a man, all raw power, his attitude telling me and everyone else he did what he wanted, when he wanted. He wore this apron, one that looked heavy-duty, stained and worn. His shirt was pushed up, his forearms strong, thick. “I’m not his?” I asked, not realizing I’d actually said those words until they were out.
Deacon took a step toward me, lifted my head up with his finger under my chin, and said, “No, you’re mine.”
This full-body shiver wracked me, and I inhaled sharply. He moved back, maybe knowing I needed some air, maybe knowing the effect he had on me.
I blinked, trying to clear my head.
“Not that I don’t like having you here, because I really fucking do…” He trailed off, and I snapped out of the trance I was in.
“I wanted to see if you would like to come over for dinner tonight.” I ran my hands over my thighs. I was nervous, so nervous despite the fact I knew I shouldn’t be. “My roommate is staying with her boyfriend tonight, so we can have a quiet meal.” Of course I was thinking about far dirtier things than eating, but I hoped I didn’t show it. Deacon, on the other hand, looked like his skin was too tight for his body.
“You want to cook me dinner?” The way he said it almost seemed like he was shocked. I didn’t know if that was because he thought I was too young to cook, or maybe no one ever did that for him.
“I do. I figure maybe we can get to know each other.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’d like to get to know you better.” I’d like to really know who you are, what you feel like on top of me, possessing me, making me come.
I’d like to know what it feels like to be yours.
6
Deacon
I could hear her cursing the second I stood in front of her door ready to knock. I smiled, something I found myself doing a lot when I was with her, but also when I just thought of her. She’d consumed me for a long time, far longer than when she first got into my car.
I didn’t move for a second, listening to her swear at whatever she was making. I had a feeling she didn’t do this…ever. But she was making me dinner, going to the trouble to feed me. To say I felt something pretty fucking strong for this woman was an understatement.
It might seem so small to some, but no one had ever taken care of me like that.
I knocked then, took a step back, and held the bottle of wine in my hand so tightly I thought the fucker would break. Wine…who the fuck drank wine anymore? I sure as hell didn’t. But weren’t you supposed to bring something to dinner? Didn’t women like wine, or was I being one of those stereotypical assholes? I glanced down at the bottle, not even knowing what the hell kind it was. The guy at the store had picked it out, saying it was popular. What the fuck did I know about this shit? I was a blacksmith who drank whiskey or beer if I wanted a buzz.
The front door opened, and my heart stalled a little. The sight of Maddie did something to me. She was mine, had been mine before we’d even said two words to each other. I’d always kept to myself, not wanting nor needing a woman to make me feel whole. But the very idea of Maddie not in my life, of her with someone else, was not something I’d entertain. Making Brendan back off was just the tip of how far I’d go to ensure anyone and everyone knew who Maddie belonged to.
Maddie
He’d eaten two plates full of my dinner, and to say I was pleased would be an understatement. Sure, it might have tasted like shit and he was just being polite, but I could see on his face that he’d enjoyed it.
My cooking skills were pretty bare. I was a college student, and between work and studying, my meals consisted of takeout or whatever I could find in the kitchen. But the spaghetti bake I’d made for tonight
, although pretty simple in the grand scheme of it all, had given me some issues.
Was the pasta overcooked, not cooked all the way through? Was it too garlicky, or maybe I didn’t add enough? Then my skills at making homemade garlic bread ended up with me burning half of it. But Deacon seemed content, and the part of me that liked that I’d taken care of him grew warm and soft.
“You liked it?” I asked, wanting to actually hear the words from him, even if they were a lie.
He pushed his plate away and grabbed the half-empty beer bottle from the table. After he took a long swig, he set it down and stared me right in the eyes. “Honestly?”
I nodded, my throat closing slightly.
“It was the best fucking meal I’ve ever had.” He leaned forward, his big muscular forearms flexing, his perpetually stained hands so attractive.
I could imagine what it would be like to have his fingers on my bare skin, to feel him adding pressure, making me know what he could do to me, how he could have me cry out for more.
“I’ve never had anyone cook for me, and that made it taste even better.” The way he looked at me had me curling my toes slightly. “The fact that you made it for me it fucking incredible.”
My pulse was racing. “Dessert?” My voice was low, thick. His words, coupled with the fact that he was sitting just feet from me, had everything in my body tightening. Before he could respond, I was up and in the kitchen again. I grabbed the strawberries, shortcake, and whipped cream, went back into the dining room, and set them on the table. I was about to sit back down when Deacon grabbed my wrist in a firm yet gentle hold. He pulled my chair across the floor, the wood scraping along the tile, until I would now be sitting right beside him.
“Sit next to me,” he said and pulled me down. It was no hardship being this close to him, feeling his body heat, and having his strength and masculinity surround me. He picked up a strawberry, dipped it in the bowl of whip cream, and faced me again. “Open for me. Let me feed you the way you fed me.”
Oh God. Was this really happening? I leaned forward, my hands on the table, my pussy wet, my nipples so hard. I was aroused, not knowing where this night would go, but hoping it was with us in my bed, with Deacon on top of me.
My mouth parted on its own. It didn’t feel like it was me doing it, but more like instinct, as if my body couldn’t deny anything Deacon said. As he slipped the cream-covered berry into my mouth, I closed my lips around his fingers and heard him make this deep sound.
“Being a gentleman with you seems like the right thing to do,” he said, but his words were low, muffled, his arousal coming on just as strongly as mine was. “Going slow, giving this—” He stared right in my eyes. “Giving what’s happening between us a chance to grow seems like the logical thing.” He looked back down at my lips. “But I’ll tell you, Maddie, it’s hard as fuck.”
“What’s hard?” I found myself asking, feeling my face heat as the words spilled from my mouth. The sound that came from him this time was so deep, so rough that I felt it all the way to my toes.
“If I told you, described what I wanted to do to you, it would scare you.”
My heart thundered so hard it was painful. “Maybe what I want is the same thing you do.” I’d never been so on edge, so aroused or wet before. I’d never wanted anyone the way I did Deacon. I’ve never wanted anyone to take my virginity…until Deacon came along. “Maybe I want this to go as far as it can and then some.”
7
Deacon
I was so hard, my cock like a lead pipe between my thighs, my desire for Maddie like this wild beast in me. It wouldn’t be tamed, no matter how much I told it to calm down the fuck down. I didn’t want to frighten her with the intensity in which I needed her, but I was having a hard enough time with my own control. And then she went and said that to me and I about lost it.
I gripped the table, surprised I didn’t break the wood. I could have tried to be the controlled one, the rational one, but right now I said fuck it all. I wanted Maddie, and I wanted her now.
I needed to hear all the things she desire…the things she wanted me to do to her. I was lost in my desire for her, and there was no going back, not fucking ever. Her surrender, both in body and her telling me, was something I needed as much as I had to breathe.
I got out of the chair, moved over to her, and helped her up. I wanted her pressed right to me, her body against mine. I wanted to feel every inch of her. The sensation of her breasts pressing against me had my cock jerking. The fucker was already hard as stone, but right now it ached.
She had yet to answer me.
“Tell me what you want,” I said again, needing to know from her mouth that she wanted this badly. Her pupils were dilated, her arousal written along her face. Yeah, she couldn’t hide this, couldn’t deny it. I didn’t have to hear her say the words to know her body was primed, wet and ready, and aching for me the way I did for her. I slipped my hand lower on her back and pulled her impossibly closer. The sound she made was a little bit of surprise but a whole lot of pleasure.
I lowered my hand, slid my fingers along the edge of her shirt, and let the digits sit there for a second, half touching her bare flesh, half resting on the material. The anticipation, excitement, and the need to strip her from her clothes and claim her on the table rode me hard. I needed her so badly I could taste it.
“Tell me what you want,” I asked once more.
“You,” she finally said, and I let a harsh groan spill from me.
I curled my fingers around the material of her shirt, and without thinking anymore I lifted the material up and over her head. Something snapped in me, this string that had been pulled so tight there was no more slack to give.
“I’ll give you myself and so much more,” I found myself saying, not trying to be sweet or gentle about this. I wasn’t a romantic kind of guy, but I’d give Maddie whatever she wanted. I’d give her the fucking moon on a platter if it meant she was mine always.
“I just want you.”
I tangled my hand in her hair, tipped her head back, and stared down at her parted lips. I lowered my gaze to the arch of her throat, to the sight of her swallowing her nervousness. “If you want me, you’re about to get every fucking possessive inch.” I went for the button of her pants, not caring how rapid this was or if it seemed like I’d lost my mind. I had, in fact, in every possible way. Maddie consumed me, owned me, and I’d possess every part of her until she knew that she was it for me…that she was mine.
I had her pants pushed down her thighs a second later, and thank hell she kicked them aside. I took a step back, looked at the white panties she wore, and groaned. Before I knew what I was going to do, I was on my haunches, pushing her legs apart and urging her to lean back on the table.
“Come on, baby, put that lush ass against the table and spread your legs for me.”
Once she was in position, I helped part her thighs a little more and pressed my face right against her panties. I closed my eyes and inhaled, smelling the floral, musky, and sweet scent of her. She made this noise that turned me on even more. For long seconds all I did was have my nose and mouth right up against her panty-covered pussy. She was shaking for me, and I heard her nails digging into the table.
“Do you want me to touch you?” I tipped my head back and looked at her. She was watching me, her mouth still parted, her eyes heavy-lidded. She nodded, and I curled my nails on her thighs, trying not to be too rough but on the verge of breaking free of my control. “Yeah you do, baby, and I’m going to make sure it’s so fucking good for you.” I ran my tongue over her underwear, hearing the slight inhalation of her breathing, feeling the prick of her nails on my shoulder. I kept running my tongue over her slit, wanting the material away, needing her bare flesh on the muscle. But I needed to go slow, to make her liquid for me.
“Deacon,” she whispered, but I didn’t stop licking her.
I knew there would be little bruises on her thighs from my hold, and a part of me grew even more tur
ned on by that, aroused beyond belief that my marks would cover her.
“I need to tell you something.” Her voice was no more than a whisper, but I stopped right away. My cock was so damn hard, pressing against my zipper, demanding to be free, to be buried in her tight little cunt. She didn’t say anything for long seconds, but before I could rise and make sure she was okay, she started speaking again. “I thought you should know before this goes further that I’m a virgin.”
My entire body became ramrod straight, my heart thundered, and everything in me rose up like a violent tidal wave. I’d assumed she was innocent from the moment I saw her, hoped she was a virgin so I could be the only one who claimed her. But actually hearing her say the words, telling me she’d never known a man’s touch in that way, had the territorial side of me breaking open.
I stood and kissed her until she was breathless. I made her taste the subtle flavor of her that lined my tongue. With my mouth on hers I slipped my fingers lower until I felt the edge of her panties once more. The bastard needed to be off her body. I pulled the edge of the material to the side, touched her bare skin with my finger, and groaned.
“Ask me to be your first. Ask me to be your only.” I pulled back and stared into her eyes.
She breathed harder, faster.
All kinds of filthy images slammed into my head.
“I only want you. Ever.”
I clenched my jaw, a deep sound of pleasure leaving me.
I’d be the one to claim her cherry. I’d be the only one who ever knew what she felt like. I’d be the only one who knew how her pussy felt clenching, so fucking wet, so ready. But only for me.
I ran the tip of my nose up the arch of her neck. She shivered for me and made the sweetest fucking sound, one that had my dick jerking. I wanted to feel her virgin pussy clenching at my cock, milking me, taking what it needed. I wanted her to get off, wanted to watch the ecstasy steal over her expression. I wanted to fill her up with my cum, make her so full of my seed that it slipped from her and created a damp spot on the bed.