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Banged Up

Page 4

by Jeanne St. James


  But one thing was clear; she was burying herself in this house for a reason. It was the same reason she added the “now” to her she could take care of herself declaration. There was a fresh wound there somewhere. Physical, mental, he couldn’t tell yet.

  Of course people took pride in their homes, but she was a little too fixated. He was determined to find out why. He wanted to know more about Ms. Colby Parks. In more ways than one.

  Chapter Three

  Mace slept through most of Sunday morning. He awoke sore from the previous day of painting, and by the time he got his lazy, aching bones out of his comfy bed, the house was empty. Colby had left a note on the bathroom door, which he found during an early morning piss. The message said she had gone out to an estate sale with a friend and they were going to hit some yard sales on the way. She hoped he didn’t mind her borrowing his truck. Well, hell. That was pretty ballsy of her.

  At the same time, Colby absconding with his truck just gave him an excuse to crawl back in bed. Now, a couple hours later, he was still just being a lazy shit in his cozy nest of covers. If she was smart, she would have slept in too. Hell, if he was smart, he would have woken up with her in his arms, preferably naked, and started the day off right. But no. Instead, he lay on his mattress by his lonesome; his only company his morning, or more like mid-morning, wood.

  He slid a hand down past the elastic of his boxer briefs and straightened out his hardon.

  Damn. Doing it himself just wasn’t the same. It was like settling for an after-dinner mint when you really wanted dessert.

  He rolled over toward his nightstand and came face-to-face with the photo of his late parents. He cursed and slammed the framed picture face down. Just what he needed: his parents watching him relieve some sexual tension. He’d worried enough about them catching him when he was a teenager. He was never quite caught in the act; there had been some close calls, though. Too many to count.

  He yanked open the drawer and shoved his hand deep until his fingers bumped against a small box. He pulled it out. Condoms. He turned it over and read the date. Hell, these were so old, not to mention probably so dry, they would break just trying to roll them on. Useless. He made a mental note to stock up next time he was out running errands. He planned on needing fresh ones. Hell, he could just add them to Colby’s grocery list, the narrow pad of paper attached to the fridge by a magnet. Milk, eggs, bread, condoms. Yeah, it might be a tip-off.

  He tossed the box next to the picture frame and continued his search. Ah, success.

  He lifted out the tube of water-soluble lube and sighed with relief. He smirked, relief was what he needed and relief was what he was going to get. He felt like he’d had a perpetual boner since walking in the door the other day and going face-to-face with that redheaded piece of ass.

  What was worse, every time he tried to touch her, even innocently enough, she would pull away. He was getting nowhere fast. He thought maybe volunteering to help her out at that horrendous house would soften her up to him a bit. And he guessed it had, somewhat, but not enough. Definitely not fast enough, for his liking.

  He lifted his hips and slid out of his underwear, tossing it over the fallen picture frame. No risk of peeking for the parents. He plumped his pillows behind him so he could sit up, leaning against the headboard. A perfect position.

  He popped the lid on the tube and squirted a healthy amount in his palm. His cock twitched against his lower belly in anticipation. He threw the tube aside in his haste and grabbed his cock with his slick hand. He squeezed.

  The head was deep red and the vein running down his shaft throbbed. He squeezed harder until the crown was almost purple and then, only then, did he slide his hand up. He ran his thumb around the head until it was well lubed. He fisted it, sliding his tight grip all the way back down to the base of his shaft.

  Holy shit. He shuddered slightly. How long had it been since he’d even taken time to do a good jerk-off? He couldn’t even remember.

  He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the headboard. He let out a shaky breath. He’d only stroked it once. Just one stroke and he wanted to blow his load already. He adjusted his grip, making sure every finger encircled his girth, before stroking slowly once again.

  It felt so good, but he wanted it to be Colby on top of him right now. He could sit there and she could straddle him and press her tight, but plump and definitely wet, lips around his cock. And slide up and down. Up and down.

  His hand moved faster along his length, creating a steady, smooth rhythm. His fist was slick and warm and he so wanted it to be her riding him, slamming her ass cheeks against his lap, taking every inch of him in her and asking for more. Fuck.

  His fist contracted and he quickened his pace. Up to the edge of the crown, squeeze, before a solid stroke back down. His balls tightened. He wanted to come in her pussy.

  Her ass, her mouth, hell, he didn’t care. He repeated his stroke, over and over, his hips lifting with each down stroke, pushing against the mattress with each upstroke.

  His chest heaved, trying to catch his breath. He was close. So close. He grabbed the root of his cock harder and squeezed all the way to the top. Then down once more. On the last upstroke, a throaty groan escaped his lips while hot come spurted all over his stomach and chest. He leaned back, panting, unable to move, his cock twitching with release. He squeezed his cock one last time, milking it of any remaining fluid.

  He laughed softly. He’d needed that. He would have to do it again. Sometime soon.

  He padded to the bathroom naked, only a slight limp hindering him due to his selfindulgent actions. Sometime soon became there and now. While he was showering, he soaped himself up and gave himself another hand job, a little more leisurely this time.

  He finally got out of the shower when the water turned cool. With a large towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped out into the hall—and smack dab right into Colby.

  They both jumped back in surprise, Colby squealing an “oh” at the same time Mace was apologizing.

  “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?” Jesus Christ, had she heard him whacking off in the shower?

  If so, there was no indication of it. She stepped back and gave him a shaky smile, her hand over her heart. “I’m fine. I should have been more careful.”

  “No, it was my fault.” Lack of oxygen to the brain. More like lack of blood.

  She turned slightly and stepped back again. She had pinned herself against the hallway wall. She was probably uncomfortable he was bare-chested and only sporting a towel. Self-consciously he checked the tuck of the towel to make sure he didn’t lose it.

  He wanted her, but wanted to be careful not to scare her away. “How was your bargain hunting?”

  “Oh, uh, good. We had fun. I found a couple of nice small tables at the estate auction and picked up a few kitchen items at the yard sales.”

  “So the truck came in handy?”

  A blush rose up her throat. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. The keys were down by the front door and I didn’t want to wake you. I filled up your tank.”

  “Hey, no problem. At least you left a note.”

  —

  Colby had been trying to avoid staring at Mace’s chest. It was just like she imagined it would be. Sculpted, but not too hard. Just right. He had small, dark nipples peeking out from a dusting of dark hair on each pec. A the trail of hair went from circling his belly button to disappearing into the towel. No six pack but damn well close enough.

  His damp hair was curling slightly around his face. It was long enough to almost brush against his shoulders. She curled her fingers against the urge to comb through it.

  She studied the angle of his jaw, the curve of his upper lip, and the edge of his brow before looking into his eyes. She realized he was just standing there quietly, letting her check him out. Omigod. She wondered how long they had been standing there without saying a word. The heat already licking at her throat rose into her cheeks.

/>   He reached out and when he did, she automatically flinched. He must have seen it because he hesitated a long second before brushing the back of his fingers over her cheekbone. Even though his face stayed neutral, she had caught the quick flicker in his eyes before he had quickly schooled that reaction also. Her face got even hotter. She couldn’t believe her own reaction. To a touch that ended up being so gentle.

  “No reason to be embarrassed.”

  Her mouth opened to say “I’m not,” but instead she said nothing. He had no idea her blush wasn’t from his physical contact but her humiliating instinctive reaction to his sudden movement toward her.

  When he moved closer to her, only a breath away, she pushed her back against the wall, wishing she could disappear into the drywall. He was wearing a towel. Only a towel. Only a towel kept running through her mind. Even though it was long enough to cover him to his knees, one little slip and he would be totally exposed.

  She licked her dry lips, the motion drawing his gaze. With lowered eyelids, he ran a thumb along her jaw line, then over her freshly moistened lower lip.

  His face lowered, just a few inches away. “Can I kiss you?”

  Colby swallowed hard. The lump in her throat remained. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  His hot breath mingled with hers. Almost as if their life breath was already intimate, kissing each other. “We don’t know each other that well.”

  “A kiss might remedy the situation.”

  She shook her head slightly, still captivated by how close his lips were. If she shifted just a bit, just the slightest bit, their lips would touch. “I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us. We have to share a roof right now. A kiss might complicate things.”

  “It’s just a kiss. A simple, quick kiss. Two people putting their lips together.”

  Somehow she didn’t think it would be so simple. Or quick.

  She reached out to push him away; she needed some breathing space, some clarity for her boggled brain. But when she did, her fingers encountered his heated skin, his muscles, the light, wiry hair along his chest.

  She sucked her breath in from the contact, but when she did he closed the infinitesimal space between them. His lips brushed hers lightly. Since her lips had already been slightly parted, he breathed her in and she did the same with him. He grazed her lips again. So soft. No pressure at all.

  On the third sweep, he grabbed her shoulders and crushed his lips to hers. She opened her mouth to protest, but he slanted his against hers, dipping his tongue in, searching. Her objection was quickly forgotten.

  Mace’s tongue invaded her mouth, skimmed along her teeth, and tickled her tongue until she groaned and tentatively drew her tongue against his. Their tongues met, dueled and fought, twisting and pushing against each other. Her hands moved up his chest to around his neck, one moving up to hold his head in place, before pressing, pushing him even closer. She couldn’t get enough of him. He wasn’t close enough. Not nearly close enough.

  He tasted good. His minty freshness was combined with his own flavor. Very male.

  She couldn’t put a finger on what it was. But she was savoring it. She liked it.

  Very much.

  He slid his hands along her waist, one moving to her lower back, the other to her ass.

  He pulled her against him so she could feel his cock through the cotton towel. He was heavy with need and ready. She let out a small sound but it was lost in their kiss. He tilted his hips slightly, just enough so she could feel him hard against her lower belly.

  Mace slipped his left hand from the small of her back to grab her other ass cheek. He gave them a quick squeeze, and lifted her without breaking the kiss, pressing her against him.

  Panic started to set in, to cloud her mind, when Colby realized she wanted to rip the towel off him and throw him to the floor. This was wrong. Wrong. She had only known him for a couple days at best.

  They needed to slow down. Take a breath. This shouldn’t be happening.

  Colby released his hair she held in a tight grip. She broke the kiss and gasped for breath. He was automatically moving to nuzzle her behind her ear when she said, “Stop.”

  He did. Immediately.

  He released her ass, which allowed her to lower her heels to the carpet, so she was standing on her own. He shifted slightly but hadn’t backed away yet. He tried to look into her eyes but she turned her head away.

  “You didn’t enjoy that?”

  “No… Yes… Yes, it was fine. It was very nice.” She couldn’t look at him yet. Not yet. He was still too close. Too hot. Too tempting.

  “Nice?” He caught her chin with his thumb and tilted her head to face him. He wore a lopsided smile. He wasn’t being cocky; he actually seemed a little worried about her reaction. And his response alone made her relax.

  “Fishing for compliments?”

  “Always.” He shook his head. “But seriously, I’m sorry if I came on too strong.”

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say. Even though she had enjoyed every second, just as he did, she shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t have. She didn’t do these things with strangers.

  “Colby—”

  The house phone rang, making Colby jump. “The phone.”

  “Yes, I recognize the sound. Ignore it.”

  “What if it’s Maxi?”

  “Unlikely, but if it is, she’ll call back.”

  On the fourth ring, she said, “It might be Martin.” She slipped past him and hurried into her room. She climbed across her bed to reach the phone which was on the far nightstand. “Hello?” For a moment there was dead silence on the other end. Absolutely nothing. Then she thought she heard breathing. “Hello? Anybody there?”

  Her question was answered by what she now knew to be breathing. The hair on her neck stood up and she gripped the phone harder. Her heart frantically pounding, she shouted into the phone, “Who is this?”

  Mace apparently followed her into her room, because he was suddenly there in front of her snatching the phone out of her hand. “Hello?” A second later he slammed it down on the receiver. He stared at the cordless phone for a long moment, a muscle jumping in his tight jaw, before turning to her. “Must have been a wrong number.”

  He was probably right. It had to be a wrong number. No one knew where she was except for work. Even so, she couldn’t stop the tremors.

  Without a thought, she leaned past Mace to open the nightstand’s drawer and check for her gun. She removed it and yanked back the slide to make sure a round was in the chamber.

  “What the hell? You had more clips?” Mace ripped the gun out of her hand and put it back in the drawer, giving it a good slam shut. “Colby, answer me.”

  “Yes. Of course.” She looked longingly at the closed drawer. She needed her gun in her hands right now; she needed to feel the security it gave her. But there was a big man standing between her and her Glock.

  “What are you going to do? Shoot the phone? It was a wrong number, that’s all.”

  He was right, he was right, he was right. She was being stupid. It was either a kid prank calling or just a wrong number. It was as simple as that. She was making a mountain out of a molehill. She focused on the man in front of her. “Sorry. You’re right. I’m just being…” Crazy. Paranoid. “Silly.”

  He settled on the bed next to her and reached for her hand. She was torn. She wanted him to grab her and hold her tight. Make her feel safe. Secure. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to get closer to her. She didn’t want to rely on him or anyone. She was responsible for her own life and her own actions now.

  The only one she could rely on to protect her was … well, herself.

  She stood and slipped her hand out of his. She backed up a step toward the bedroom door. She couldn’t resist one more look at him. He looked so sexy on her bed in just a towel. If she wanted him, she could have him in a second. After the kiss in the hallway, she was sure if she suggeste
d they get naked, he wouldn’t think twice about tossing the towel to the side.

  She needed some uncomplicated loving, some tenderness and maybe even some hot, sweaty down-and-dirty sex. But sex wasn’t her priority.

  Right now, she needed to survive. She needed to get out of the bedroom. “I’m going downstairs to start a roast.” She turned and fled down the hall.

  In her haste, she barely heard Mace’s disgruntled question. “By the way, who’s Martin?”

  Chapter Four

  Mace was towel-drying his hair Monday morning when he heard the shrill ring of his cell phone. He could work highly technical surveillance equipment but he couldn’t even figure out how to change the damn ringtone. Not that he had given it any great effort, either. He limped into the bedroom and looked at the “private caller” which came up on the display. He reluctantly answered it before the voice mail could pick up.

  “So, how are you feeling?” a very familiar male voice asked.

  Mace sat on the bed and threw the damp towel over his naked lap. “Lousy. Are you calling for a reason?”

  “Not really. I’m just checking on one of my best men. Did you shave that mess off your face yet?”

  “No.” Mace rubbed a hand self-consciously over his bristly chin. “I like it. I think I’ll keep it for a while.”

  “It makes you look—”

  “Like a criminal. I’ve already heard. Flattery will get you everywhere. Hey, did you call the house phone yesterday?” It would be like his boss to hang up if a stranger’s voice answered. To avoid any questions, his superior would say.

  “I have your cell.”

  Yeah, that was the perfect answer to his question. But he was right. He had Mace’s cell, there would be no reason to call the house.

  “Is there a problem, Walker?”

  “No. No, nothing.” Nothing but some kiddies prank calling the house.

  “If there is, I’m sure it’s something you can handle.”

  “Yeah. In that case, I’m glad you waited until now to call. There’s a woman staying here. Fortunately, she’s at work right now.”

 

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