A Soul Redeemed

by Dakota Black

  “I’m…” Veronica licked her dry lips and continued to whimper, the sound muffled, a mere whisper.

  Every cell in his body was alive, but his heart remained heavy. This was an unusual experience, an unwanted feeling. He slid his lips across her cheek, allowing his tongue to drag across her skin. Every lick, every taste made him hunger for more. He crawled further down, kissing and licking down the length of her spine. Easing back, he rubbed his fingers down the crack of her ass before tracing each red mark on her ass with just the tip of a single finger. “You’re already bruising.”

  She nodded, her lower lip quivering.

  He marveled at her continued level of self-control. She wanted nothing more than to please him, obey his orders. He’d been drawn to her for all the right reasons. He slid off the bed and rose to his feet, moving in front of her as he undressed. He needed her to crave him.

  Nash remained torn between the dark needs sweltering deep within and an unexpected desire. This was no longer just about using her, having her succumbing to his every demand. His eyes never leaving her, he unfasted the rope from her wrists then rubbed her fingers before dragging the nail on his index finger down her arm. “Don’t move.”

  Every move practiced, he took his time unfastening the other bindings, caressing her skin. Very gently he eased her to her feet, her back against his chest, his throbbing cock pushing hard against her whipped ass. After cupping and squeezing her breasts, he pushed his face into her neck, biting down.

  “Oh!” Veronica placed her hands on top of his, her fingers digging in. Subtle breath sounds escaped past her lips.

  Breaking free one hand, he rubbed his palm down her stomach and in between her lips, shoving his fingers just inside.

  She threw one arm around his neck as she leaned back, her chest heaving.

  “I want you. I need you.” And he would have her. He pulled his hand free, shoving his fingers into her mouth and twisting his hand. He continued to have difficulty breathing as he chuckled, the sound guttural. “Clean my fingers. Lick every drop of your sweet cum.” Even the sound of her sucking was exaggerated, echoing into his ears.

  Seconds later, he could take no more. He broke his hold and swept his arm over the bed, tossing the pillows across the room. He sat down on the edge, pulling her down with him, the momentum thrusting his entire shaft deep into her cunt.

  “Ah…” She clamped her mouth shut and dropped her head, a slight smile curling on her lips.

  “Ride me. Take every inch of me.” He kneaded her breasts, the grip firm, his fingers white tipped as he studied her face, her beautiful eyes.

  Moving up and down, she jutted her hips forward with each hard plunge until they were in an orchestrated motion. She whimpered every time her ass hit his legs, but never stopped.

  The way her pussy muscles gripped around his cock gave him a series of shivers. When she squeezed her cunt, tightening around his aching shaft, he tipped his head back, the roar floating toward the ceiling. He slid his arm behind her waist, brushing his hand up until he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck.

  She blinked several times, as if pushing away oncoming tears. Her tongue slid across the seam of his mouth, the move a passionate reminder.

  He struggled with the man inside, the one who never wanted to be close. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories rushed into the forefront of his mind and for a few seconds he was paralyzed. Then he crushed her mouth, the kissing becoming manic, almost savage as she picked up her rhythm.

  Veronica’s actions became wild and the slapping sounds of skin against skin, the scent of their desires and their ragged breathing refused to be denied.

  Nash squeezed her neck and knew they were both close to coming. His aching balls were swollen, leaking and he’d be unable to hold back for long. When he could feel her body tensing, sensed just how close she was to climaxing, he began to smack her ass with hard strikes every time she lifted her hips.

  Smack! Crack!

  She moved harder. Faster, moaning into the kiss.

  Crack! Pop!

  Suddenly, his body tensed, every muscle screaming for release. He broke the kiss and panted. “Come!”

  “Oh!”

  Her entire body trembled and her mouth went slack as she clenched her eyes shut, beads of perspiration trickling down both sides of her face.

  Nash buried his face into her neck and they held each other, clinging as if desperate to hold on to one another. He held back an angry howl. He’d crossed his own line, one that he’d sworn never to do. He hadn’t just given her his body.

  He’d given her his heart.

  Veronica opened her eyes, blinking as she tried to focus, to make sense of the haze floating in front of her. The second she moved, she winced. Where was she? Nash. The memory was delicious. She reached out and exhaled as she felt for him. There was nothing but an empty side of the bed. Lifting her head, she listened for any sounds. She could hear a series of creaking noises, a rumble of machinery, but nothing to indicate that Nash remained in the room. A single warm glow appeared from the bathroom, a nightlight of sorts. He’d left her here alone, but why?

  She rolled onto her stomach, her face pressed into what would have been his side of the bed. She didn’t even remember crawling under the sheets, so she must have fallen asleep sometime after the experience. The entire night had been so out of bounds, so unlike her, but every moment she’d shared with him had been amazing. There had been cathartic moments for both of them, although she couldn’t put her finger on why the thought remained. He was an unusual and very demanding man.

  Click!

  The single noise in the room drew her attention, bringing a slice of fear. Lifting her head, she strained to try and make out anything. Wait a minute. She slipped out of bed, pulling the sheet around her and padded toward the small sitting area. “Nash.”

  “I was watching you sleep,” he answered after a few seconds.

  She felt for the chair opposite, sliding onto the seat. Her eyes more accustomed to the shadows, she could just make out his form. She wanted nothing more than to reach over, take his hand, but this wasn’t a part of the relationship, such as it was. “I’m sorry. You should have awakened me sooner.”

  “You were tired.”

  “And you weren’t?”

  He exhaled. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Maybe I can help.” She was surprised at the sound of her own voice, as if she needed approval, but she wanted nothing more than to see him. Reaching over, she searched for the single lamp.

  “Dark. Leave it dark.” There was no anger in his voice, just an anticipation that she would obey.

  And she did. She rubbed her arms and leaned forward. “Maybe we could talk about what’s going on.”

  “What do you think this is?”

  “This?” She could tell he had a drink in his hand.

  “What has occurred between us.”

  Veronica had no idea what to say. “Fulfilling a need.”

  “Interesting answer and you’re right. When we get off this rig, there will never be another time. No social calls, no dates. We will never see each other again.”

  Why he’d chosen to say the words now was a clear indication that he’d broken one or more of his own rules. Now, she was to blame. She sat quietly, watching him swig down his drink and knew his eyes had never blinked. Anger rose from the tips of her toes and her head was aching. This kind of bullshit she’d had before and refused to accept. Once again, a man believed he could simply use her then toss her away. Or worse. She rose to her feet and made her way to the bathroom, turning on the light. “Fuck you.”

  Nash remained silent, but his breathing was ragged, clipped.

  Using just the light of the bathroom, she found her clothes and struggled to get into them as the anger continued to boil. Yes, she’d allowed herself to be put into this position with him. She’d accepted the submissive role, craving more than just his firm hand, but to be dismissed, pushed aside in this manner was too hor
rible to deal with.

  When she was finished dressing, she turned out the light and stood in the room, waiting for something. Any sign he gave a shit. She wanted to ask him if he wanted her back, but why bother? “Nash.”

  He shifted in his chair.

  “Maybe you don’t care what I have to say, and I should have expected that. I’m a big girl. I chose to be with you. For what reason, perhaps I’ll never know, but I do know this.” She walked closer, daring to invade his precious space. “For a few moments we were in sync, together and I could tell you wanted more.”

  He remained quiet.

  She inched even closer. “And at that moment, I was prepared to give you anything you asked, and not just physically. That’s not what you need. You can have all the women you want, submit, succumb. You can fuck them without knowing their name, but the man inside craves more. I saw that for a fleeting and very beautiful second.”

  He said nothing.

  She groaned and pressed her hands against the sides of her face. “Fine. I’ll go. I don’t know what to do with this, but I do know what you want as well as you know what I need. I only hope you figure it out before you lose your soul.” After standing and waiting, hoping, for another full minute, she stormed to the door. The moment she touched the doorknob, she could feel his hot breath cascading across her neck and shoulders. She held her breath as her nipples hardened, her pussy clenching.

  “You’re wrong about me,” he whispered.

  “Wrong?”

  “I’m not a good man. I’ve done things, experienced horrors and there is no way anyone will forgive me or understand. I’m the monster your nightmares are made of.”

  The words echoed and the moment she turned around, wanting nothing more than to prove him wrong, the bathroom door was shut. She stood alone, cold and understanding. Sighing, she opened the door, checking the hallway before crossing the threshold. She remained with her hand on the doorknob, a single tear slipping past her lashes.

  “Or a tortured soul in need of redemption.”

  Chapter 9

  “Goddamn it!” Tank snapped and tossed a wrench across the deck. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Just calm down,” Digger said as he hunkered down, glaring into the hole. “We can fix this.”

  “The fuckin’ equipment hasn’t arrived. There is nothing left to fix it with.” Tank paced back and forth, giving Nash a nasty glare as he moved closer. “I guess Rush doesn’t give a shit about us.”

  “The equipment is coming in from another location. You’re well aware of that.” Nash wondered whether the corporate offices were using Canterfield. He dropped to the deck and peered over, shining a flashlight at the broken welding. The line itself was positioned precariously over an open area of the ocean and the waves were kicked into high gear given the wind. There was no place to work, except for straddling steel. “If we don’t get that fixed, she’s going to snap clean off, dumping the entire line straight into the ocean.”

  “Then we need to drain the line.”

  Nash looked up at Bronco. “Not enough time. The pressure is too great. If we even try and back it off, the line will blow, taking out the pump. We can’t have that.” He rose to his feet, glaring out at the ocean.

  “Then what do you suggest?” Tank cocked his head, his eyes narrowing.

  Nash looked around at every man then to Tank. “We weld. You and me.”

  “Weld? You want sparks to fly around that oil bath?” Tank laughed, the tone bitter.

  The leak had created a slick working environment and would make the work difficult, but he knew the skillset and had complete confidence that between him and Tank, they could fix the couplings. If they didn’t, this was a different kind of disaster and one that would affect more than just the crew or the rig. He wiped his hands on his jeans and closed the distance until they were nose to nose. “We can, and we will. Understood?”

  Tank pursed his lips.

  “It can be done,” another crewman said.

  “Not without some juju from the Gods,” another snorted.

  “It has to be done,” Nash reiterated and glanced over his shoulder. “Bronco, get the welders. Digger, I need steel.” He took a step back and peeled off his second shirt. “We are going to do this.”

  Giving him a military salute, Tank huffed. “You’re going to get us killed.”

  “And we’re on a deadline and can’t afford any additional fuck ups,” Nash retorted.

  Tank waited, laughed and shook his head. “Have it your way. Your skin and reputation.” He yanked off his cap as the men approached with the equipment. “Let’s get this over with.”

  JJ tossed them both masks. “Careful down there.”

  Tank donned the mask then shimmied down into the hole, grabbing onto the long pole and sliding down. When he was in position, resting on another metal bar, he reached up. “Hand me a welder.”

  “You sure about this, man?” Bronco asked, moving closer to Nash.

  “Nothing else we can do. The part must be fixed or we’re a ticking time bomb.”

  “He’s right,” the engineer said as he walked toward the group. I can ease off the pressure valve but shutting it off will back up the entire production line.”

  Nash nodded. “Then back it off as much as you can. JJ, get a group of men and get ready for containment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Bronco stomached the deck and leaned over, handing the welder down to Tank. “The sea is rough as shit. If those waves get any taller, they’ll knock you off.”

  Glancing at the sky, Nash could feel in his blood that the storm was approaching. They had a day and a half. Maybe. “Let’s just get this done. Hand the rest down to me after I get in position.” He wrapped his hand around the cold steel, maneuvering down exactly the same way that Tank had. The effects of the sea slamming against the metal legs, no matter they were imbedded in concrete, swayed the entire structure down below. This was going to be a dangerous repair. One mistake and one or both would tumble several stories to the ocean. He shoved the mask over his face, adjusting the hooks.

  Tank kept a menacing stare as Nash grabbed the equipment. Then they set to work. Only Bronco remained behind, awaiting any additional instructions.

  “How do you want to go about this?” Tank asked as he surveyed the rusted piece.

  “Fabricate the new one first. Then we’ll have a few minutes to switch the parts or the pressure will force a blow.” Nash felt around the coupling, surprised the entire bolt had rusted in this fashion, yet he knew that sea water ate away at metal after time.

  “All right. Let’s do this.”

  They worked side by side, careful as they welded the new piece. Neither man said anything, yet tension remained.

  Nash held up the piece, surveying it in the dimming light. “I think this will work.”

  “You’d better be right.”

  He wanted to lash out, but at this point, there was no time to waste. Inhaling, he looked up, searching for Bronco. “The pressure backed down?”

  “As much as he could. You have a short window. Real short,” Bronco called back.

  “All right.” Nash took a deep breath.

  “You’re with the doctor now?” Tank asked out of the blue.

  “What?”

  He laughed. “As if you didn’t think the entire rig would know.”

  Nash bit back a nasty retort and turned on the welder. The moment metal hit the rust, sparks flew, showering both men and the deck.

  Tank jumped back, almost losing his grip. “Shit! Be careful.”

  He noticed a smoldering area and huffed. “We go from both sides.”

  Grabbing the second welder, Tank moved closer. “She’s been asking questions all day, going through the rig.”

  “She’s allowed to go anywhere she wants to. Weld.” Before leaving his cabin, he’d searched again for any news regarding Canterfield Industries. What he’d found had left him with a nasty headache. The connection, if proven to b
e correct, was the exact reason for the subterfuge. The motive was clear. Now to figure out the players. To sabotage an entire rig would take the work of several men, and in different positions. He remained on edge. This maneuver was pushing Tank, but damn, he needed to know whether Tank had betrayed his entire crew.

  “She’s going to get herself killed. You know why. They won’t let her continue talking.” Tank turned on the welder.

  They. Rattled by his comment, Nash followed suit, both men now welding from opposite sides. He could swear he felt the pressure, ready to burst through the lines. That couldn’t happen. Sweat beaded across his forehead as they worked, strings of oil spewing all over both men. “We’re almost through. Get ready.”

  Tank nodded and swirled the welder.

  He heard a sharp cracking sound just seconds before the coupling popped off. They ducked as warm air mixed with remnants of oil rushed out of the pipe. Then the amount slowed down to a trickle.

  “Fuck. Let’s get this shit back on.” Tank lifted the mask, rubbing his face and surveyed the new fitting. “We might just get lucky.”

  Within two minutes the piece was refitted, secured with a snapping sound.

  “Yes!” Nash exclaimed then exhaled. “Let’s get this fucker finished.” They worked tirelessly for several minutes as the waves crashed against the base, knocking them back and forth. He sat back and nodded. “I think we’re good.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  Nash motioned to Bronco. “Have them turn it back on.”

  “Will do.”

  When Bronco moved away, Nash knew they’d have a few minutes. He rose to his feet as he straddled the pole, grabbing onto the bar for support. “Why don’t you tell me what you meant.”

  “The good doctor?” Tank asked. Tank remained in a crouching position.

  “You know exactly what I mean. I looked up Canterfield and there is some truth to what you were saying.”

  “There’s also truth to the fact that two of my men found out what was going on,” Tank threw out. “One of them is dead and the other wasn’t allowed to get off this ship.”