Blame It On Your Heart (Big Timber)

by Jami Alden

  She knelt there on the bed, taking a moment to admire him as he fished his wallet out of his discarded jeans. Rippling with muscle, not an ounce of fat to be found on him anywhere. Every single inch of him was hard.

  Especially, she thought with a little smile as he turned to face her fully, his long, thick erection, standing straight out from between his legs, the broad head slick with precome. So gorgeous he made her mouth water.

  He returned to the bed, foil packet in hand. "Wait." Ellie stayed him when he started to tear it open. She slipped the condom from his hand and set it on the table. She took his cock in her other hand, smiling at his sharp inhale as she pumped the granite hard column in her fist.

  He was quivering like a wild animal, every muscle tense as she flicked her tongue out to taste. Circling, lapping, sighing as his salty flavor hit her tongue. Then her lips parted, sucking him into her mouth, sliding along his shaft until he was pressing against the back of her throat. In and out, as his fingers slipped through her hair, holding it away from her face.

  She flicked her gaze up, locking it with his. The heat blazing there made her sex throb so hard in response she thought for a second she might come.

  His face pulled in tight lines, his features standing out in stark relief, nostrils flaring as his chest heaved in and out on every breath. She sucked him deep, flicked her tongue along the underside of his cock in the way she knew he loved.

  She pumped him with her fist, matching the rhythm of her mouth, reveling in the power she wielded over him. She couldn't command his heart, but she could control his body.

  She could feel the tension coiling tighter as he chanted her name in a harsh whisper. He was close, she could feel it in the way he swelled against her lips, pulsed against her tongue.

  She would never be sure what got into her, but right when she felt him hovering on the brink she eased up, loosening her grip as she slid her lips up until they hovered a breath away from the slick head of his cock.

  She hovered there for a moment, letting only her breath tease the over-sensitized skin. Her tongue stole out, teased circles around the crown. His breath came out in a frustrated rush, and she could feel his fingers tighten around her hair. She closed her lips over just the tip, swirling her tongue in a caress that kept him on the razor's edge of pleasure but would never send him over.

  She could feel his body vibrating with tension, feel him straining against the urge to grip her head and force himself deeper down her throat.

  His hands dropped to the mattress, fisting tightly in the sheets as she continued her torture.

  "Ellie," he ground out, a warning. "You should really know better by now than to tease me."

  She slanted a look up at him and trailed soft, wet kisses down the underside of his shaft.

  "That's it," she heard him hiss, and in the next second strong arms hauled her up and flipped her onto her stomach before she could utter a breath of protest.

  Big, rough hands gripped her hips and urged her to her knees. Ellie braced herself on her elbows and looked over her shoulder, a jolt of need pulsing through her sex as she watched him smooth the condom on with quick motions.

  Then he was gripping himself in his one fist and holding her hip with the other, his face pulled in tight, hard lines as he guided himself into position.

  Ellie's eyes squeezed shut and she turned her face to the pillow to muffle her sharp cry as he took her in one hard thrust.

  He held himself there for a few seconds. "There was a time when I let you get away with whatever you wanted." His growl sent a little shiver of apprehension down her spine.

  Twisted girl that she was, it only made her pleasure that much keener.

  "But you should know by now that when it comes to this, I'm in charge. I make up the rules."

  Hackles raised, she opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she would have said was lost as he drew his hips back and slammed home again.

  Ellie fell forward, her hands curling in the sheets as he took her with hard, heavy strokes. It should have been too much, but she couldn't get enough. She reared up on her knees again, thrusting back to meet him with every stroke. She could feel her orgasm building, tightening low in her belly as she moved faster, harder against him.

  It was there, glimmering on the horizon. She turned her face into the pillow and bit down on her lip to hold in her scream...

  He pulled out until he was barely inside her. She moaned in protest and tried to rock back, but his hands on her hips held her in place, immobile.

  "Damn you."

  "What, you can dish it out but not take it?" he whispered and pulled out completely. He held himself there, circling her opening, swung his hips forward so he could slide his shaft up and down her slit.

  She let out little whimper as his cock slid against her clit, making her tremble from head to toe. The tremble of his own fingers against her hip was small consolation.

  He pushed back inside, and Ellie gave a little sigh of relief. It was short lived, as Damon once again pushed her to the very brink and then stopped, leaving nothing but a yawning ache and a feeling that she was going to break with reality if she didn't come soon.

  "Please," she whispered softly, rocking her hips futilely in his grip.

  "Jerk," she whispered when he wouldn't relent. There was only one option left.

  She took matters into her own hands.

  ###

  Damon's entire body shook from the restraint it took to keep from shoving his cock back inside Ellie and pounding away until they both came so hard they couldn't move.

  He could tell himself he was paying her back for her own little games. Trying to make him jealous—and succeeding—with JT.

  Tormenting him with that hot, sweet mouth until he was on the verge of going certifiably insane.

  But there was a deeper, darker truth behind what he was doing now. A need to control something in this situation. It was obvious he had no control over himself. But he could control Ellie. Control her pleasure.

  Twisted as it was, there was something in that that managed to hold back the sheer terror he'd experienced earlier in the evening when he'd seen Ellie smiling up at JT as they danced, his hand resting low enough on her back to brush the upper curve of her ass.

  Unbidden, a word had roared into his mind. A word he hadn't associated with a female since the first time he'd kissed Ellie Tanner.

  Mine.

  Ricocheting through his head, making him break out in a cold sweat as he was forced to acknowledge the awful truth: no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, Ellie Tanner still had a hold on him, as undeniable as gravity. And as long as she was living in Big Timber, there was no staying away from her.

  Mine.

  The word echoed in his head now as his fingers curled into the soft, giving flesh of her hips, holding her still as she rocked against him, the tight muscles of her pussy gripping, rippling, trying to pull him deeper.

  It took every ounce of strength he had not to pound into her, not to reach around, stroke her clit and give her exactly what they both so desperately needed.

  But he couldn't give in, not yet. He wasn't ready to let go of the illusion that he had some control over himself, over her, over the crazy forces in the universe that relentlessly drew them together.

  Sweat trickled down his chest as he drank in the smooth line of her back, rippling with the tension of unfulfilled desire.

  Her shoulders rippled as she strained, and he watched, his breath heaving in his chest as her right hand uncurled from the sheets and she slid it underneath her, sliding it down.

  Heat rushed through him as he realized instantly what she was up to. Even though he couldn't see it, he knew her hand was buried between her thighs from the shudder of pleasure that coursed through her, from the way her slick heat spasmed around his cock.

  The thought of her slim fingers stroking her swollen clit was nearly enough to send him over the edge.

  He clamped down on his desire and r
eached down and around until his fingers curled around her wrist. "Oh no, you don't," he whispered harshly as he dragged her hand back up the mattress and pinned it to the bed. He grabbed her other hand and pressed it into the mattress for good measure.

  "Damn you, Damon," she said, her voice catching on what sounded like a sob.

  "Shh, not so loud," he said, lowering his body until his chest pressed against her back. "Tell me what you want."

  "I want you to let me come, Goddammit!" she said fiercely.

  "How?" he said, rocking his hips until he was once again buried full length inside of her. Another slow withdrawal and thrust elicited a shuddering sigh.

  "The usual way," she snapped.

  "I want you to be specific." He pressed his palms against the backs of her hands and laced his fingers through hers. "Do you want this?" he said, pulling out and sliding back in, hard and deep.

  "Yes," she said, turning her head to the side with a moan.

  "You were touching yourself," he said and sucked her earlobe between his teeth. "You want me to touch you?"

  "Yesssss." The word ended on a hiss.

  "Here?" He released her hand and reached between them, flattening his palm against her lower belly.

  "Lower..."

  "Here?" He thrust again, muffling a groan at the way her pussy gripped him tight, trying to keep him right where she wanted him. His hand slid lower, until his fingers brushed against the small patch of dark hair at the top of her mound.

  "Lower." She squirmed, trying to get his fingers exactly where she wanted them.

  Damon had a sudden flash of memory of being with Ellie in this very room. Holding her naked in his arms, equal parts turned on beyond all reason and terrified that he was going to do something she didn't like or, God forbid, hurt her. Asking her every micro step of the way if it felt good, if she liked that.

  Now, he thought, his lips quirking in a half smile, he knew exactly what Ellie wanted, what she liked. But it sure as hell was fun to make her tell him anyway.

  Another slow thrust and withdrawal. Damon's balls drew tight against his body. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could keep up. "Tell me." His hand moved up, away from where she needed him most. "Exactly where."

  "Here," she said, covering his hand with hers and pushing it down. "I want you to stroke my clit." With her face turned to the side he could see her cheek was flushed red, her eyes closed tight. At the words, Damon finally relented. His fingers parted her slick folds, found the swollen bud of her clit.

  His muffled groan echoed hers as her pussy spasmed around him at the first brush of his fingers.

  "What else?" he panted as he circled her with firm strokes of his fingers. "What else?"

  "I want you to fuck me," Ellie said in a harsh whisper.

  "I already am fucking you," he said, moving slowly in and out, his fingers never losing their rhythm.

  "Harder," she said, rocking her hips back for emphasis. "Like you were before."

  Damon ground his teeth against the pleasure roaring through him as he drew his hips back and thrust hard, giving her exactly what she wanted. He pounded into her as his fingers slipped and slid against her.

  Suddenly every muscle in her body stiffened, her pussy clamped so tight around him he could barely move.

  This time he let her go, watching her mouth open in a silent scream before she turned her face into the pillow to muffle her cries as she came, shaking, underneath him.

  He drew up on his knees and held her hips in a tight grip as he took his pleasure. He watched, riveted as his cock, shiny wet from her, disappeared inside her tight folds. Marveled at how they fit so perfectly together, her body custom made to give him maximum pleasure every single time.

  Mine!

  The word roared through his head as his orgasm bore down on him with the force of a tsunami. Washing over him, crushing him, killing him as he collapsed on top of her.

  He rolled to the side, taking her with him. He tucked her into him, her back to his chest and threw his leg over her as though he was afraid someone was going to try to steal her away.

  As if he was afraid she would try to escape.

  He told himself it wasn't tears making his eyes burn as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along her smooth shoulders, down the side of her neck. His hands slid up and down her sides and arms, cupped her breasts. Starved for the feel of her after too many days away.

  He nuzzled against the nape of her neck, and she turned her head to meet his kiss. Then she turned away with a sigh, nestling her head against the arm he'd tucked under it.

  "What the hell are we doing?" she whispered, her voice so low he wondered if she meant to say it out loud.

  He answered anyway. "Hell if I know. All I know is that whatever it is, I can't seem to stop it."

  Chapter 11

  Ellie was grateful for the chance to sleep in the following morning, though Anthony's idea of letting her sleep in was rousing her at eight thirty. However, she conceded as she pulled him in for a cuddle and followed him blearily to the kitchen, that was better than the six am wakeup she'd had all week, helping her mother with the breakfast shift, followed by working on the final details for the upcoming party.

  Surprisingly, she'd managed to fall asleep after Damon's visit, and by her third cup of coffee the cobwebs were mostly cleared from her brain.

  "What do you say?" she said to Anthony as Adele put a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him.

  "Can I have ketchup?"

  Ellie shook her head.

  "Can I have ketchup please?"

  "What do you say when someone prepares a wonderful meal for you?" Ellie sighed.

  "Oh," Anthony said, straightening in his chair. "Thank you Nana for this delicious breakfast."

  "You're welcome," Ellie's mother said and pressed a kiss to the top of his dark head.

  "So, Mom, how about that ketchup?"

  Ellie arched an eyebrow at him. "How about you ask me the right way?"

  "Can you get me the ketchup pleeeeeeeaaaaaase?" he replied, stretching his mouth over his tiny little baby teeth on the last word.

  She couldn't help but grin back as she rose to retrieve the ketchup. A grin that morphed into a grimace when Anthony immediately covered his eggs in a layer of red so thick you couldn't see a hint of yellow beneath.

  Like most Americans, once upon a time Ellie had enjoyed a squirt of ketchup on a burger or to dip her fries. But not since Anthony had discovered ketchup and drowned everything from eggs to filet mignon with it.

  Any appetite for breakfast she might have had disappeared and she lifted her coffee mug to her face to try to drown out the sickly sweet smell.

  After breakfast Adele announced that she was spending the day with Vivian. "We're headed over to the flea market in Livingston."

  "Are you still going to take me to the pool?" Anthony asked. Cindy had taken him several times in the last few weeks, and he was dying for Ellie to go with him for once."

  "I need to get a little work do—"

  "Mooooom," he drew the word out so it had several syllables, sounding closer to fifteen than five. "You promised we would go today," he said, tears starting to fill his dark, accusing eyes. "Besides, you're working all the time. Don't you want to be with me sometimes?"

  "Of course I want to spend time with you," Ellie said, her heart squeezing with guilt. For the last three weeks she'd only seen Anthony for a couple hours a day. Though she knew many working parents saw their kids less than that, she wasn't used to spending so much time away from Anthony, and Anthony wasn't used to spending so much time away from her.

  After the party was over, she reminded herself, things would settle down.

  And what then? A voice niggled in the back of her head. She needed to get a job that paid better than she what was getting helping out at the restaurant. One that would likely not be somewhere Anthony could pop in and say hi at random times of the day like he could now.

  A job that would likely b
e far away from Big Timber, since she still couldn't see living here long term without becoming completely miserable.

  Despite Damon's visit last night, she held no illusions that he had visions of any future for them.

  "I can't stop it," he'd said. And the best way she could describe his tone was defeatist.

  She shoved the memory away and ignored the twisting feeling in her stomach that came with it. Today was all about Anthony, and she wasn't going to take her attention from him to waste it on trying to figure out what was going on inside Damon's head.

  She held up her hands, hoping to avoid a total meltdown. She looked at the digital display on the microwave. "You see the clock? What time is it?"

  "Nine three oh."

  "Okay, when the clock says"—she paused a minute and did a little mental calculation of how long it would take for her to make her phone calls, catch up on email, and get their stuff together—"eleven oh oh, we'll leave."

  Satisfied with this compromise, Anthony happily plopped himself down in front of the TV to watch cartoons until it was time to go.

  They spent the rest of the rest of the day at the park, swimming and sunning. After they ate the sandwiches Ellie packed, they got ice cream cones from the snack bar.

  After several hours they were sunbaked, starving, and ready to call it a day. Ellie made a quick stop at the grocery on the way home to pick up supplies for a dinner of Anthony's favorites. Cheeseburgers, carrots and ranch dressing made "from scratch," meaning from the dry mix, and cookie dough ice cream for dessert.

  Ellie turned on the ignition, cringing at the high-pitched squealing that hummed through the car as she pulled out of the parking lot. She didn't know a ton about cars, but she'd learned enough from hanging around Damon and his family to know she was likely facing a transmission problem.

  Add that to the nearly bald tires that could blow at any minute, and she was looking at repairs to the tune of... Nothing she could even dream of affording in her current state.

  "Mommy, why does the car make that noise?" Anthony said around a yawn from the back seat.

  "Because it's kind of sick."