by Robin Gideon
He took a couple more steps into the bedroom, watching, listening carefully…hating. Hating as he’d never hated before. Hating with a white hot intensity he didn’t know he was capable of.
No sense in blowing a gasket now, he told himself. When you find out who did this, that’ll be the time to kick ass and take names.
He stepped out of the bedroom, but made a point of leaving the door wide open. If his brother stirred at all, he wanted to be able to hear it.
He walked back to the living room, and got down on one knee near Bobbi Jo. He needed to talk to her, but he didn’t want to frighten her when he woke her up. So how to go about doing that?
I could kiss her awake, he thought, and then shook his head. Don’t go there. She’s a doll, but she’s already made it clear she’s getting the hell out of North Dakota the first chance she gets.
“Shhh. Wake up, Bobbi Jo. Everything’s all right.”
Her eyelids fluttered sleepily, and then exploded open.
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly, keeping his voice very low. “It’s me, Caleb. Everything is fine. My brother is sleeping and everything is fine.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and raised a hand to push her mussed up hair out of her face. She wore one of Jacob’s white dress shirts. Since her shoes, skirt, and blouse were on the floor near the sofa, Caleb knew she wasn’t wearing much more than that, if anything at all.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I just have to ask you a couple questions, then I’ll leave you alone.”
She rolled from her side onto her back, and the blanket slipped down from her shoulders. She rubbed her face for a moment, and then pushed her hair further back from her forehead. The movement caused the blanket to slide beneath the swell of her breasts. She had buttoned it to a spot between her breasts, and he was given a brief, disturbing glimpse of creamy flesh.
“He’ll be glad that you’re here,” she whispered.
Caleb, still down on one knee, leaned even closer to her, turning his face aside so that she could whisper directly into his ear.
“Somebody jumped him from behind,” Bobbi Jo whispered, her lips so close to his ear he could feel her breath. “He has a mild concussion, but more importantly he’s got some busted ribs. They stole his wallet and watch.”
Caleb turned his face toward her, and when he did, their noses nearly touched. The urge to take her face in his hands and kiss that luscious mouth was very strong. No matter how strong his discipline to be a gentleman, hers was the kind of beauty that couldn’t be ignored.
After a moment, she turned her face aside so that he could speak directly into her ear.
“I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping my brother.” He used a fingertip to slip some hair behind her ear. “Any idea who attacked my brother?”
Bobbi Jo pushed up on one elbow, and then shook her head.
“Sit up so we can talk,” Caleb whispered. “You can’t be comfortable that way.”
With a sweep of her arm, Bobbi Jo tossed aside the blanket and swung her legs around so that she sat upright on the sofa. Caleb looked down and couldn’t keep from inhaling sharply. The shirttails had risen to the tops of her thighs, showing off legs that were pale and smooth and tapering. He dragged his gaze up to her face, but to get there he had to look at her breast and the slight cleavage on display. Why she looked so unbearably erotic wearing a man’s dress shirt, he couldn’t say, but he was quite certain she’d look even sexier if she was on his sofa, wearing his shirt.
“He’s a nice guy,” Bobbi Jo whispered. “I only did what anybody would to do.”
My God, she’s an angel, he thought. Guys like me shouldn’t kiss angels.
He slipped his hand around her neck, his fingers sliding under her hair. “Bobbi Jo,” he said, and then pressed his lips to hers.
Chapter 5
Oh, no…he’s going to kiss me.
An instant later, Caleb’s lips were sealed over Bobbi Jo’s. She tilted her head slightly, putting herself at the proper angle so that the kiss could deepen. True to her unspoken wishes, it did. When she felt Caleb’s tongue caressing first her lower lip, then her upper, and then slide side-to-side in the crevice of her lips, she opened her mouth.
His tongue eased its way inside. It didn’t stab into her like some weapon. He entered slowly, almost hesitantly. The slow intimacy seemed in stark contrast to the man delivering the slithering caress.
Caleb moved his head slowly, and Bobbi Jo moved along with him, deepening the kiss, moving in unison as though they’d done this many times before.
He kisses me like he knows everything about me. He knows me instinctively. But the next thought put a chill in her steadily heating arousal. Or he just knows all women. Maybe I’m no different than any of the others.
Caleb’s fingers at the nape of her neck moved in a slow circle, sending an oozing warmth deliciously down her spine. Her palms were on her thighs. She felt the urge to touch his chest, to feel the power he possessed. It would be exciting, even though his shirt and T-shirt. He was a suit-and-necktie businessman, but he had the body of a rough-and-tumble lumberjack.
But then Caleb’s left hand cupped her right breast through the thin layer of cotton, his thumb and forefinger instantly catching the nipple that had long ago grown tight and erect with sexual tension.
Fresh cream seeped to the slowly swelling lips of Bobbi Jo’s sex. Her thoughts instantaneously became focused.
I satisfied Jacob, and he never touched me. The only reason I’m letting this happen is because I’m sexually frustrated.
It was a lie, and Bobbi Jo knew it, but she embraced it anyway because what had started out as a pleasing and entirely innocent make-out session was progressing into a sweet seduction that she wanted more than anything else in the world.
Except she’d been intimate beyond her expectations only a short time earlier, wantonly sexual in a way she had never dreamed she would, and with a man she’d never even kissed, much less been thoroughly naughty with. After doing something like that—giving a blow job—she definitely needed time to get her thoughts and emotions straightened out.
Remember how miserable it turned out the last time you let lust do your thinking for you? You let that idiot fuck you, and he started cheating on you the very next week!
She pushed Caleb’s hand off her breast, and then leaned back, pushing against the hand that held her by the nape of the neck.
“Kissing you is divine,” she whispered, “but if I let this go on another minute, I’ll never be able to stop.”
I said that all wrong! Now he knows how close I am to submitting!
He grabbed her by the wrists and leaned toward her, bending her backward so that her head and shoulders were against the backrest of the sofa, and his torso was now between her thighs. He pinned her wrists to the backrest over her head, his gaze burning into hers.
“Why,” he asked, his tone imperial, with more than a hint of the Dom in it, “would you deny yourself the divine?”
Bobbi Jo closed her eyes. She couldn’t look into his eyes and not succumb to his deepest, darkest desires. She suspected they matched her own, but were the mirror opposite—masculine to her feminine.
“Tell me why, Bobbi Jo.” There was more of a command in his tone now, even if he didn’t raise his voice.
She felt him lean forward, his hips forcing her thighs wider apart, the bulge of his erection now pressing against the lips of her sex, touching her with startling intimacy even though layers of clothing separated flesh-to-flesh contact.
When Caleb’s moist tongue touched her throat, starting at just above her collar bone and moving slowly upward, Bobbi Jo issued a low, warbling moan of submission. She felt his chest pressing against her breasts. Her nipples ached and throbbed.
“Surrender,” Caleb whispered. “Tell me you surrender.”
Bobbi Jo could hardly hear what Caleb had said, even though he was speaking directly into her ear.
I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! The words were screaming in her head, but she couldn’t put them to words.
“Kiss me.”
She didn’t want to. At least she didn’t want to want to. But that didn’t stop Bobbi Jo from turning her face just enough so that Caleb could once again claim her mouth.
This kiss had nothing of the gentle seducer in it. It was fierce, hungry, demanding that she submit. It was everything she wanted. It was everything she was most afraid of. His tongue plundered her mouth, moving deeply, sliding over her tongue, the roof of her mouth, stealing her breath.
He ended the kiss, and only then could Bobbi Jo breathe. She turned her face to the other side this time, thinking irrationally that somehow this might afford her more protection against this man who brought out what she suddenly believed was the worst in her.
If he touches my panties, he’ll find out I’m dripping wet. She squeezed her eyes even more tightly closed. This is so fucking embarrassing. What’s happened to me tonight? I never get this wet.
“Stunning.”
She heard the single word, knew it was directed at her, and wondered whether anyone ever before had ever used that exact word to describe her. She was a country girl from Williston, North Dakota. Her parents were poor, and they’d always been poor. The only thing they’d ever taught Bobbi Jo was that being poor was a pitiful condition, and the only way to not be poor, they said, was to work hard, save money, move out of Williston, and get an education. But the key to happiness, they never said but always implied, was to get the hell out of Williston. It was the Big City where riches were to be found.
Caleb’s big right hand came down over left breast, the fingers burying deep into the mound. She gasped. Like a sorcerer, he seemed to know just how hard to squeeze to draw the maximum amount of pleasure and adding just a hint of discomfort, without crossing the line that leads to naked pain.
If he squeezes my nipples I’ll beg him to fuck me.
If ever there was a thought that could put ice in her veins and a train wreck end to the never-before-experienced-and-too-fucking-hot-to-believe eroticism of the moment, that was it. Bobbi Jo had never begged anyone to fuck her, and she wasn’t about to start now.
Bobbi Jo shook her shoulders, squirming, her wrists pinned above her head to the sofa, Caleb’s lean hips between her thighs. Her breast slipped out of his hand. He started to unbutton Jacob’s starched white shirt, and she shifted her shoulders again sharply, not once, but twice, preventing him from his succeeding at his task.
That’ll stop him.
She kept her eyes shut as he shoved his fingers inside the folds of her shirt several inches beneath her breasts.
She knew what he was going to do.
Oh, yesss!
It wasn’t a tentative tug. Men like Caleb didn’t do many things tentatively, and they sure as hell didn’t rip a woman’s blouse—or a man’s shirt, for that matter—open tentatively. Caleb pulled hard to the side, and not even hand-stitched buttons could withstand his strength. The buttons ripped off and fell to the thickly carpeted floor a dozen feet away.
Feeling her shirt being ripped open—feeling it being torn apart by Caleb—very nearly made Bobbi Jo climax instantly. No man had ever treated her like this before.
She gasped. It was a sudden, sharp intake of breath.
“Shhh!” was Caleb’s sharp response.
I can’t wake up Jacob.
An instant later, Caleb’s heated mouth surrounded her naked left nipple and he sucked with a hungry abandon. The intensity of the sensations he elicited was greater than anything she had ever before experienced from having such an intimate thing done to her.
I’m going insane. This can’t be happening to me.
Caleb transferred his attention to her other nipple. The suction he drew on the hyper-sensitive tip of her breast wasn’t even close to being gentle.
But it is happening, Bobbi Jo, so you’d better keep quiet or you’re going to wake Jacob up.
It was impossible to fathom the horror of having one brother sucking on her breast while another brother watched her.
Would they compare notes? That was unthinkable. What if Jacob told Caleb that part of her nursing duties while playing the role of his personal Florence Nightingale included being a fellatrix?
Caleb was using only one hand to trap her wrists to the sofa. She felt him move away, so that his caged erection was no longer pressing and rubbing against her vagina.
She whispered, “No, don’t!”
She was now quivering and on the edge of an orgasm.
Caleb made a growling sound in his throat, the sound of an Alpha lion not calling out for the entire savannah to know that he was in control, but the deep, rumbling sound of a lion claiming domination over a single female.
She heard the sound he made, and she climaxed.
It wasn’t a fierce, consuming climax, not the kind she had when she had drunk a couple glasses of wine and was touching herself while reading her e-reader, going over the passages that were particularly relevant to whatever her current most-favorite fantasy was. But it was a strangely satisfying orgasm because it had happened without either her or Caleb touching her vagina or clit. The sound of his voice, and the D/s ambience he had created, was enough to make her come.
“Fuck,” she said through clenched teeth, her body shivering.
Caleb ground his pelvis against hers, and a second wave of pleasure passed through her, not a tsunami, but a Hawaii-sized wave that curled nicely before it hit the shore.
And as the wave receded from the shoreline, and the contractions stopped, and her breathing returned to normal, Bobbi Jo knew with a sense of certainty, spine-tingling anticipation, and utter dread…that she was going to get fucked.
Caleb’s eyes were normally brown, but when Bobbi Jo looked into them now, they were almost black with intensity. She knew in her soul that he wouldn’t hurt her, but still, to see him now so intense, the Dom in him so evident in every move, every action, it made her shiver.
Bobbi Jo had read a hundred stories about D/s relationships, but they were never like this. Though she’d never said anything about Dominance and submission to Caleb, she could tell now that he was a true-born Dom, and though she’d only felt it was a secret fantasy to be a submissive, it was about to become more than just a naughty dream.
He pulled her hands from the backrest to her stomach, still keeping her wrists pinned in one huge fist. A moment later, he was on his knees on the floor, his free hand pushing against the inside of Bobbi Jo’s knee to spread her legs wide apart.
He did not dally. He devoured.
The electrical jolt of having her clit captured between two warm, masculine lips, and then sucked on, forcing Bobbi Jo to arch her spine. At least she tried to. Caleb, holding her wrists trapped to her stomach, made that impossible. Through the quivering valley of her pale breasts, she looked down to see Caleb’s handsome face at the juncture of her thighs. It wasn’t just the feel of what he was doing to her that was such a turn-on, it was the sound he made while licking and sucking on her clit and pussy that triggered such an instantaneous, explosive response.
She tried to pull her wrists free from his grasp. She might just as well have tried to pull her wrists free from stainless steel police-issue handcuffs. She was trapped, in bondage of a sort, while having every sensitive area of her pussy and clit tantalized by a handsome man who clearly knew what he was doing with his lips and tongue.
Bobbi Jo clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and climaxed once again. Caleb was leaning on her right leg, so she couldn’t straighten that one, but her left was free, and she kicked that straight out, unable to keep her muscles from contracting as waves of raw pleasure washed over her.
“Stop,” she whispered after several seconds. “I’m too sensitive.”
Bobbi Jo blinked her eyes several times to clear her vision. She was enormously grateful that Caleb had done as she’d requested. This was a man, she realized, who kne
w when to attack, and when to perform a civilized, gentlemanly retreat.
He shifted his weight, moving slowly, getting his knees more directly beneath him. It was an incongruous image he gave to Bobbi Jo, and she liked it. Here she was, her panties on the floor because he’d ripped them off her, the man’s shirt she was wearing without buttons because the buttons had gotten in Caleb’s way, and he didn’t tolerate anything getting in his way. For himself, not only was he still wearing his suit coat, his necktie was still neatly knotted.
It was when he took Bobbi Jo’s hands and once again pinned them to the backrest above her head that she saw he had made a few sartorial changes of significance.
His belt had been undone, and now his trousers and boxers were down to the tops of his thighs, and an erection, long and thick and pointed straight at her face, was out in the open and ready for action.
“That’s…” she began, but then couldn’t think of the proper next word. Should she call it “big” or “beautiful” or both? He wasn’t quite as magnificently endowed as his older brother, but the difference was inconsequential. Bobbi Jo was quite well aware that, after having gone through a drought, she had now been given a downpour of riches.
Caleb had to push his cock downward to get it at the proper angle to enter Bobbi Jo. He rubbed the plump head up and down over her slit, getting the crown slick with her juices, and then he eased forward slowly. Bobbi Jo could feel her lips separating, her sex aroused and oh-so-ready to be filled with Caleb’s hard cock.
“Tight,” Caleb whispered.
Bobbi Jo saw the strain in Caleb’s face, saw how difficult it was for him to keep from spearing into her. She wanted to tell him that she was so ready, achingly wet and hungry for the sensation of being filled with him. But as with so many things about this bizarre and entirely unplanned encounter, Caleb seemed to know what to do without having to be told. He withdrew until just the tip of his crown still separated Bobbi Jo’s sex lips, and then he thrust mightily.