by Shaye Marlow
“Condom?” I breathed, eyes stuck to his straining cock. God, the man was beautifully formed.
“Right.” He reached to his pants, dug one out, and rolled it on.
Then he was over me again, and as he reclaimed his spot under my ear, my heart thudded in my chest, and my breath came short with anticipation. Leaning to one side, he managed to get his hand on my breast as well. So he was nuzzling, and squeezing, that big cock of his was nudging against me, and oh my god was he ever a multitasker.
My hands went up to his back, where I dug my fingers in, testing the firmness of his muscles. Wondering if he’d like it as much as I did, I slid them lower, and squeezed his firm butt. He rewarded me with a roll of his hips that settled that thick bar of hard flesh firmly against my clit.
“Tell me you want me,” he murmured, doing the most sinful things I’d ever imagined to the sensitive skin below my ear.
He had to repeat himself before I understood, but then I nodded. “Yes.”
A shudder ran through him. “So, you want my cock,” he said. I could feel what it cost him to keep his tone light, feel the need vibrating through him.
“Yes,” I said, pulling at him, wanting to be taken.
“Tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me you want me. You want me inside you. My cock. All of it.”
He wasn’t responding to my tugging—and impatience got the best of me.
“I saw that,” he said. He propped himself over me, his weight on his elbow.
“What?”
“You rolled your eyes,” he said. His free hand slid down my thigh, and then he was tugging at my knee. “You think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?”
“What? No.”
“You’re just humoring me.”
I blew out a breath. Brain coming back online. “I do think it’s funny that someone so massively endowed—”
“Massively endowed?” he asked, stilling over me. There was laughter in his voice.
“Yes, massively endowed. It’s funny that someone so frickin’ huge—”
“That sounds like sarcasm.”
“No! No, I—Ohhhhh.” My nails dug into his back as he slid into me. A long, perfect stroke. Or, it would have been, if he hadn’t been so frickin’ endowed. One hitch, one tiny retreat, and then he was filling me completely.
“Good,” he whispered, watching my face as he gave me it all.
I groaned, feeling all a-buzz. My pussy ached, filled to the limits with him. He was too much, far too much—but he would have felt that way if he’d been all of three inches. No one had ever made me feel the way that he did. He set me alight, made fairies flutter all around, dusting my skin with glitter, while tiny Irishmen tap-danced on my nerve endings.
He moved, a slow withdrawal. And I was okay—until he came sliding back in. I cried out. “Wait, wait, wait,” I panted, near to crying. I wrapped myself around him, trying to hold him still, trying to keep it from happening, to tamp down my response. The feel of J.D. inside me was too good.
“Too fast?” he asked.
“Too much,” I moaned.
He deflated just a little at that, and started to give me more room.
“Too good.” But I pulled him back into me anyway, because I couldn’t stand for him to be away. I trembled under him, right on the cusp of…
“Too good?” he asked. He brought his mouth back down to my neck—and there was no way he could have missed the way my legs writhed when he tongued the tender patch of skin he’d claimed.
He tweaked my nipple with his thumb, and a couple things happened: I stiffened, and my pussy gushed. J.D. groaned, and thrust hard, a move that pushed me up the bed. I was quivering right on the edge, unable to make so much as a sound, daring not even breathe, my whole body caught in a fine tremor.
He had concern in his eyes. “Are you…?”
My pussy contracted around him, a tight squeeze that I wasn’t used to, and had no idea how to cope with.
“You are,” he said, but I barely heard the pride in his tone past the roaring in my ears. He thrust again, and with my legs wrapped around his back, the impact between his pubic bone and mine was explosive.
It pushed me right off the edge. I tried to keep my mouth shut as I convulsed around him, over, and over, and over again. He watched me intently, his skin misting with sweat. His muscles jumped on each squeeze, and he moved harder, and harder still, pumping me full.
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I cried out with his next thrust, which only seemed to encourage him. He powered into me.
I screamed. And screamed some more. I shrieked as waves of pleasure broke over me, as they—as I—came again, and again, and again. The sensations owned me completely, and J.D. was their master. He owned my body. Robbed my mind.
“Oh my fucking god! Oh, fuck!” I held on as the bunk creaked. As the whole cabin rocked harder than it had when a bear hit it. It felt like a bomb had gone off in my brain. My head felt curiously light, and my body strained upward, defying the laws of gravity.
He rocked into me one final, glorious time, and then groaned as he gripped me tight. I moaned, shuddering under him. My hair was caught under one of his elbows, and I didn’t give a damn. Not with his body sealed so perfectly against mine.
He laid a kiss on my throbbing lips, and finally rolled away. With me sprawled in the center of the tiny bed, ‘rolled away’ meant he rolled to one side and came up against the wall. But he didn’t try to distance himself. He flung the condom into the darkness—a move that made me giggle—then dragged a blanket up from where we’d kicked it, and slung an arm over me, pulling me close.
I sighed, snuggling against him.
J.D. was handsome. He smelled divine. He color-coordinated his clothes, gave me screaming orgasms, and was passing-fair at first-person shooters.
He also beat people up for a living… but how could I find fault with a man who cuddled so perfectly?
Chapter Eighteen
J.D.
“Oh crap, I gotta get to work!” Thea struggled out of my arms, where we’d fallen asleep spooned on the tiny bunk.
I opened my eyes, blinking blearily in the early glow of dawn. “What?”
“Gotta go open,” she said, yanking on her clothes. “Dangit, I’m probably already late.”
I dragged myself to a seated position and scrubbed at my face, trying to wake up. I failed, but I didn’t find that out until my head smacked the wall, after I rocked backward. Ow.
Thea entered my field of vision, leaning in to kiss me. She smiled. “You’re cute in the morning.”
I puckered up to return her kiss, several seconds too late. She was already turning away.
“Wait,” I said, my brain having to scramble to catch up with my mouth. There was something wrong with her reaching for that door, something…
Remembering the bear, I lurched to my feet. “I’ll walk you.” Nudging her aside, I cracked the door, and ventured out first. The chilly morning air hitting me was a bit of a shock. It wasn’t accompanied by teeth and claws and a ton of furry fury, which was good—I would have died naked. I ducked back inside to yank on some clothes.
I may have been walking, but I still wasn’t awake. I delivered her to her coffee shop with another quick kiss, then managed to make it back to my little cabin, where I fell back into bed. My last thought was that I’d have to start getting up earlier. But I could start… tomorrow.
A couple hours later, at a more reasonable time, when people who weren’t baristas or fishing guides usually arose, I finally got up. After using the facilities, I went looking for my brothers. And, after combing their cabin and shop, again, I came to the conclusion that they were still missing. Their boats were at the dock, the four-wheeler and Jeep were parked out front, but the miscreants themselves were curiously absent.
I contemplated the empty cabin over breakfast. It occurred to me that if they were gone—and stayed gone—it could all be mine. I could live right next door to Thea, see her every day. I’d set fire to the
catapults, of course, and possibly also the shed. I’d move the punching bag from the shop to the living room, tear out the AstroTurf and install mat flooring. Crappy couch out, power reclining loveseat with drink holders in, so that Thea and I could play video games. It’d be perfect.
But also very… empty. Too quiet, too sane. The fact was, life wouldn’t be the same without my brothers. I wanted to find them so I could kick their asses, but I was also worried about them.
They’d left no clue. There were no signs of a disturbance, no note. It wasn’t like them to be gone overnight like this, especially without having taken one of their various modes of transportation.
So, between their being AWOL and my suspicion that they were behind this Bigfoot fiasco, I resolved to hunt them down. I grabbed the keys to the boat they’d forbidden me to drive—because fuck them, they weren’t here—and headed out.
First stop, the bar. It was the most likely explanation: They’d gone out drinking last night, maybe with this friend they claimed to have, and had passed out in one of the bedrooms there.
I got to the bar in just a few minutes. And in a few more, I’d ruled out my first theory. The upstairs rooms were very, very empty and smelled like fresh paint, and my brothers weren’t passed out in the main room of the bar—or behind it.
Next stop: Ed. Ed had his fingers in a lot of pies, knew this place and everyone in it.
I went downstairs, hearing first the grunts, the harsh rasp of breath. A body hit the mat, and Ed’s voice came from the other side of the cage. “Good. Good. Faster next time. I want you to move into the throw, use your momentum, use his.” He was training a couple of fighters.
“J.D.,” he said as I rounded the cage.
“Ed.”
“You ready to get back in the ring?” he asked. It looked like he’d been in there himself, with his T-shirt damp with sweat.
I rubbed my shoulder, looking at his men, thinking about it, monitoring my reaction to those thoughts. Not nearly so painful as it’d been just a few days ago—the arm and the thoughts. “Do you train all your guides?” I asked.
“Nah. Some of ’em just plain suck. But I at least have to put them through their paces, get to know what they’re capable of. Knowledge is power, and all that,” he said, looking back toward the men who were sparring.
“On that note,” I said, “I’m trying to find my brothers. Have any idea where they might be?”
“Far far away is the safest place for them,” he said.
“Yes, I agree completely. But I need to talk to them. Need to interrogate them a little.”
He grinned. “About?”
“Bigfoot. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the sightings, would you?”
Ed’s eyes were shuttered. “Why would I know anything about that?”
“I dunno. Maybe because you know a little bit about everything.”
He lifted a shoulder.
“Look, I don’t believe in Bigfoot, and I’ve got some evidence that says Bigfoot is a man in a suit. According to Thea’s roommate, she had sex with Bigfoot on the way back from the outhouse last night.”
Ed looked at me. Just looked, his expression carefully neutral. Maybe he thought I was fucking with him. Maybe he didn’t know what to think. Or, maybe he was hiding something.
“But here’s the kicker,” I said. “She said afterward, Bigfoot gave her a firm slap on the ass, to let her know she’d done a good job.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, and his eyes started to sparkle. “And, was this roommate high?”
“No. Or drunk. I think,” I added.
“Bigfoot sounds like he’s a creature of the ’40s,” Ed noted.
“My point is that Bigfoot is almost assuredly a guy in a suit, and I was at Dotty and Harv’s the other day, and she said that exact same thing about the firm ass-slap.”
“Well… I guess it could be Dotty,” Ed finally said. “Her and Harv get up to some kinky shit up there behind the post off—”
“No, no. My brothers were also there. They heard what she said.”
“Oh. Well, then, there ya go.”
“But I talked to them a few days ago, and they denied everything.”
“Well of course they would. They lied,” he informed me.
“I searched for a suit. Didn’t find it.”
“So they hid it.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “Do you know something I don’t know, or are you just saying this based on their character?”
Ed nodded.
“That was two questions!” I winced after my little outburst. One did not raise one’s voice to Ed. Not in his bar, not ever.
“And the answer to both,” he said, “is yes. Have you talked to Dotty? If you’re looking for some juicy gossip, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Go ask Dotty these questions. Or Suzy,” he said with a little laugh.
“Ed, I know you know something. Tell me what it is.”
“Mm-hm. You willing to fight me for it?”
Dammit. “Do you have info on the whereabouts of my brothers?” I asked. That’s what I really wanted to know, what I’d come to find out. If he didn’t know anything, then there was no point in pursuing this further.
“Fight me and find out.”
“I’m not going to win,” I pointed out. “My shoulder’s fucked up, I’m out of shape, and out of practice.” I’d lose. I, the MMA champion, would be beaten in some backwater fight club, and the two dudes currently taking pot-shots at each other in the ring would witness it.
“I know. But it’ll be a fight, win or lose. Don’t you miss it?” he asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
Like nothing else. “You gonna tell me what you know, win or lose?”
“I will.”
“Okay then. You’re on.” Thea couldn’t get upset about me fighting if she wasn’t here, could she?
Ed laughed. “Greg! Tom! You’re out!” He pulled off his shirt as he headed for the cage.
I followed, kicking off my shoes and stripping off my own shirt at the base of the stairs. We passed the guides on their way out of the octagon, and the gate shut behind us with a clang.
I bounced a little on the balls of my feet, feeling the mat under my toes, took a deep breath, and shook my arms out.
Ed grinned. “Ready?”
“Take it easy on the shoulder,” I told him.
“Will do.” He raised a brow.
I nodded.
He came in swinging.
I dodged, landing a lightning-fast kick on his side even as I danced away.
He rubbed the spot, but was still grinning—wider, if anything. “I keep forgetting about your feet,” he said, following.
“I didn’t forget about your fists,” I returned. They were like hammers, and if he got in a full swing and connected with your skull, you were pretty well done. My two options were dodge and deflect, or get inside his guard and not let him get that full swing.
I decided to lead him on a merry chase, figuring since he’d already been working, I could probably tire him out. What I didn’t factor in, though, was the fact that—
“You’re out of shape,” Ed commented, that crazy grin still on his face. Ed was an interesting fellow, all shy and inept with women, quiet, unassuming, generous. But get him into the ring, and…
He came at me with another flurry of blows, too many, too fast. He got me with a knee before I managed to drive him off.
“You’re holding back,” I panted. Any normal day, he would have kept coming like a juggernaut, an unstoppable windmill of violence, and ended it, ended whatever unfortunate wound up in the ring with him.
“You’re injured. I don’t want to break you.”
“Well, stop it. Let’s see this through.”
He shrugged. “C’mon then.”
I attacked. I deflected his elbow, dodged his fist, and took him to the mat. We grappled, him twisting to keep me from getting a hold, me straining to twist him into a pretzel. It wasn’t working,
though, because my damn arm was weak. He kept breaking free.
He rolled backward and came up, ready to beat on me while I was down—but I was already across the cage. “You’re still fast,” he noted.
I nodded in acknowledgement, and wiped sweat out of my eyes. “So, what is it you were going to tell me?” I asked, hoping to distract him. In an official fight, I kept my mouth shut. But here, in Ed’s bar, in an underground fight club on the outskirts of civilization? There were no rules.
“You mean what I know about Bigfoot?” he inquired, his voice relaxed, his attempts to hammer me vicious. I blocked a few, then took a couple glancing blows before I disengaged.
“Anything you think might be of use to me.” I got in a couple good shots to his face, making him laugh with delight. I couldn’t help grinning, myself. I truly did miss it. In the ring, pitted against another human being, tired and hurting in a hundred different places but carrying on, trying to make the other guy drop before I did, I was in my element.
“We could discuss welding techniques,” he suggested.
I was too slow, and his blow to the side of my head made my ears ring. He tried to press the advantage, but I shook him off. “Bigfoot,” I prompted, drawing on years of experience to steady myself, to appear stable and halfway dangerous.
“You all right?”
I nodded. “Continue.”
He circled, making it seem like he was waiting for the right time, the right opening, but I got the feeling he had read me like a book. He was giving me a breather.
I refused to take it, launching myself in to grapple with him. He grunted with effort as we strained against each other. “I don’t know… where your brothers are. No… idea. Oof!”
I landed a particularly solid right hook, knocked him off balance, and we were back on the mat with me trying to lock him down. He was being difficult, of course. “Bigfoot,” I growled. I practically heard the hallelujah chorus in my head when I managed to maneuver him into a chokehold.
He wheezed as he nailed me repeatedly in the side with an elbow. He bucked, and yanked, and—dammit, my injured arm gave. He was up, and his grin looked strange on his somewhat purple face. “Tim,” he said, “has a Bigfoot costume.”