Through Fire (Portland, ME #3)

by Freya Barker

  When I open my eyes and look down, I see his focus on the mark on my inner thigh. I immediately go to close my legs together, but his wide shoulders make it impossible. His eyes flick up to meet mine, over the swell of my belly, and I see heat in them. Heat and anger. It freezes me instantly. One of his hands comes up, and softly strokes my stomach, as the other takes a firm grip behind my leg, shoving it up and open further as his lips aim a kiss on the ugly brand. “Fuck the bastard who put this here. Hope he fucking rots in hell.” His voice is rough and his eyes never leave mine. “I claim this spot. Just as I claim the rest of you,” he whispers, moving his mouth to my center and taking a long, leisurely lick along my slit. Only then does he break connection by closing his eyes and so do I.

  There’ve been only few Johns who got off on having a taste of me, something I’ve always hated. I’m not hating Tim’s mouth on me, not when the appreciative grunts coming from him send tingles over my skin. Slow, almost reverently, he makes love to me with his lips and tongue. Probing and teasing—flicking and sucking. I find myself lifting up for closer contact, but the broad palm of his hand on my belly keeps me firmly in place.

  “Do you like this?”

  I open my eyes and find his blue ones on me once again.

  “Talk to me, Boop. Tell me what you like. Do you prefer a soft touch?” He shows me what he means by using only the tip of his tongue to stroke along my opening and tease me around the tight junction of nerves at the top. An involuntary shiver runs through my body at the sensation. “Or would you prefer it a little harder.” With that he slides two fingers inside my soaking pussy, while simultaneously sucking on my clit. Hard.

  “Madre de Dios! Yesssss...” I hiss, bucking under his assault. “Please...” My ragged voice sounds strange to my own ears, as I squeeze my eyes shut and scream his name with my release.

  His mouth is instantly tender again as he kisses me down from my climax, his fingers slipping from my heat. Cold hits me when he finally pulls away, but I can’t quite bring myself to open my eyes just yet. The slide of a drawer opening and the soft crinkle of cellophane are all too familiar and my eyes snap open. Instead finding of an anonymous shape, I look into the beautiful, warm face I’ve become very familiar with. With my hand coming up to stroke his glistening beard, I lift my head to press my lips against his, tasting the evidence of my own arousal.

  I can’t even begin to explain the feelings that are swelling in my chest like balloons. Once again, my eyes well up with overwhelming emotions, and I struggle my tears down. Tim will start thinking I’m a basket case if I keep crying, like I seem to at every turn. I feel like I could float up if his body wasn’t hovering over mine, keeping it firmly grounded.

  I peek down between our bodies, only inches apart as he braces on his arms to keep his weight off me. The broad, dark purple head of his cock is shiny; suddenly, I want to taste him too. Shimmying down the mattress, I slip one arm through his legs and around his thigh, while keeping my cast braced on my chest.

  “What are you doing, Ruby? I told you I—Ahhh.” The moment my tongue flicks at the drop leaking from the small slit, his body jerks. Salty, smooth, and uniquely distinct, Tim’s flavor floods my senses. The slight pleasant musk of his skin enhancing the taste of his body. By shifting my shoulders to wedge between his knees, and pulling his hips back so I can reach him, Tim is now sitting on his haunches above me. With a firm hand on his ass, I encourage him to move, welcoming the slide of his thick shaft down in my waiting mouth.

  “Christ, babe...” The muttered moans from above me make me feel powerful and start a new throb between my legs. I love feeling the flex of his muscles underneath my hand as he struggles to keep his movements in check. I massage his length with my tongue, firmly pressing him up against the roof of my mouth as he slides in, swallowing his tip when he taps my throat, and sucking steadily as he pulls his hips back.

  I moan around him as I rub my legs together, trying to find relief for my own ache and bring my hand down. Slipping my fingers through the wetness gathered between my lips, I find the little pearl of nerves. I roll the tip of my middle finger over and around the distended nub, before slipping down inside my opening, drenching the finger in my arousal.

  Tim’s grunts become louder as he loses the battle for control and his hips start bucking erratically. Suddenly he stops. “I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he manages through gritted teeth.

  “Mmmmm,” I hum against his skin. The responding hiss from his mouth almost makes me smile. I want him to lose it. I want to swallow him down and make him feel as wanted as I do right now.

  His hips jerk when he feels my finger at his back entrance, firmly sliding in, pressing through the tight ring.

  Tim

  “Holy Jesus! Son of a motherfucker!”

  I can’t help the tirade of profanities flying from my mouth as I feel Ruby’s finger slip up my ass.

  Never. Not ever have I let anyone do that. My mind wants to revolt, but my body is instantly on board. When she presses the tip of her finger deep, an orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. My body, bucking and jerking, as the combination of my cock deep against her humming throat and her finger pressing on an ignition button somewhere inside me, hurls me into the abyss. I barely notice Ruby slipping her finger clear and licking my cock clean. My mouth is hanging open, as I gasp for air, after taking a higher plunge than I’ve ever experienced before.

  With a gentle shove, Ruby rolls me on my back where I collapse; my arm slung over my eyes, not able to form a sensible thought or word. It’s only when I feel the mattress move, and cold settle in when Ruby slips from the bed, that I open my eyes. Her naked, rounded figure looks as enticing from the back as it does from the front. I lay still as I hear the rush of water as she turns the tap on, waiting for her return. The moment she steps back into the room, I can tell she’s surprised to see my eyes on her. The blue cast on her arm stands in sharp contrast with the pale olive tone of her skin. A slight flush covers her chest and cheeks, and along with the dark smolder in her eyes, proof of her arousal.

  “Come here,” I persuade her, my voice a bit gravelly. I watch as insecurity starts creeping in with every step closer to the bed. Before she quite gets there, I scissor my body up and reach for her, pulling her off her feet and rolling her over me.

  “I’m too heavy,” she mutters when I press her head down to my chest, where my heart is still tapping out a rapid beat.

  “Hush.” I press my lips against the top of her head. “Feel what you do to my heart? You are incredible. That...was incredible. Your mouth...my God, Ruby. So good.”

  She’s silent, but seems relaxed against me. It’s nice to feel her skin all over me. “You okay?”

  “Mmmm,” she hums, sounding content, but the slight shifting of her thighs send a different message. My dick, despite the rugged workout, seems to hear it too.

  There are so many things we need to talk about, or rather, I want to talk about with Ruby, but right now is not the time. Right now, we both seem to crave communication of a different language. One that is just as important. So I don’t think twice before rolling Ruby on her back, stroking the hair back from her face, and dropping a kiss on her wet, swollen lips. Sitting back on my haunches over her thighs, I scan the sheets around us for the foil packet a dropped earlier, spotting it peeking out from under Ruby’s hip. She lifts her butt off the mattress when I pull it clear, and I can’t help placing an open mouthed kiss over her belly button. The scent of her excitement is strong, and I’m fully hard instantly. It takes me two seconds to roll on the condom.

  “I’m claiming you, beautiful,” I declare to her, right before I press the crown of my cock between her lips and in one smooth stroke, slide it home into her body.

  Ruby’s body arches off the bed, her head thrown back in full abandon. I’ve not seen a more glorious sight. Wild, dark brown curls fanned out over the pillow, a high flush staining her cheeks, and her mouth open, releasing a moan that seems to travel
up from her toes.

  I take my time, showing her the intimacy of a caring touch, a tender smile, the sweetness of a slow release.

  Teaching her how to make love.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ruby

  “So I’m guessing things have been good?”

  Pam’s voice sounds amused as she regards me from behind her coffee mug. I’ve just finished updating her since the last time I’ve seen her. I haven’t gone into details, but I guess the fact the last few days have been the best I’ve ever known shows through.

  When I woke up that first morning, the throbbing pain in my arm was an instant reminder of what occurred the day before. The sound of the shower from the bathroom explained the cold empty spot in the bed beside me. Tim is obviously an early riser, since the alarm on the nightstand showed barely seven o’clock. He’s also thoughtful, since there was a steaming cup of what smelled like coffee, a glass of water, and a bottle of ibuprofen on the nightstand. I’d refused the hardcore painkillers they offered at the hospital, only too aware of the dangers of addiction. Been there, done that, and not about to tempt the devil. Over the counter would have to do. I popped two of the pills and swallowed them down with a swig of water when I heard the shower turn off. A minute later, a very naked Tim came walking into the bedroom, rubbing at his hair with a towel. I was immediately aware of my own nudity under the sheets as I watched him stalk toward the bed, his memorable package swaying with each step. His rumbled, “Mornin’,” was underlined with a shit-eating grin on his face when he bent down to kiss me.

  That day he went out for a bit, running some errands, and insisted I stay home. I spent my time watching some TV, something I haven’t had a chance to do often. He found me a couple of hours later, totally immersed in a movie called The Blind Side and crying. Again. It didn’t help that he walked in with a few large bags, containing all of my earthly belongings, which isn’t saying much, but still. He’d apparently swung by my apartment with the key he absconded from my purse, and collected all my clothes and toiletries. The kindness of his gesture was a bit too much, on top of the already fragile emotional path the damn movie put me on. He dropped the bags, sat down on the couch beside me, and chuckled as he pressed my face into his shirt. Not that I minded, he smelled good enough to eat. One thing lead to another, but...we didn’t get any further than some pretty intense kissing and petting. When I’d asked Tim why he stopped, he said he wanted to be sure I understood it wasn’t all about sex for him. It’s difficult for me to see my own value beyond what I have between my legs, but Tim sure has ways of getting his point across. My father was a kind man from what I recall, but he was also a man who was used to having his will catered to. One who believed in more traditional roles for the sexes. The men I’ve encountered, since starting at The Skipper, have been strong-willed, but at the same time they seem to treat the women they are with as equals. They respect them. Much like Tim seems to respect me.

  I can’t stop the smile from stretching my mouth.

  “No need to answer that. The answer’s plain on your face,” Pam points out, breaking through my thoughts. “So have you guys talked? I mean, you did drop kind of a bomb.” She shakes her head and her amusement is replaced with concern. “Heard anything from the brother? Mark?”

  “We talked a little, but not much,” I share shyly. Most of the past couple of days were spent in a total bubble, ignoring anything and everything outside the two of us. It wasn’t hard to shut the world out, when I stayed inside Tim’s house, even when he left for short errands. I was grateful not to have to go out in the now bitterly cold weather and was quite comfortable curled up on the couch, catching up on years of missed movies, while Tim sat at the table, working on his designs. So very domestic, and...normal. I’m not used to normal but I’m loving it. “Mark called last night, and he’s going to be by this afternoon, after Tim picks me up.”

  Tim dropped me off at the shelter earlier. He’d received a call early this morning for some piece of equipment he’d been looking for. Must’ve been a good deal, because he was driving all the way to Boston to get it before someone else beat him to it. He suggested Florence House, and since I hadn’t seen Pam since Sunday, I welcomed the chance to catch up.

  “I feel guilty,” I confess. “I don’t know why I deserve all this concern.” I cringe when I hear myself give voice to a nagging thought that I can’t seem to rid myself of.

  “What d’you mean?”

  “It wasn’t nice...what I did before. And I’m breaking the law just by being here. I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone.”

  Pam leans forward and rests her chin in her upturned palms. “Let’s see if I understand. You expected to be judged for working as a prostitute and being in this country illegally. The fact no one you know now seems to be angry at you is confusing?” When I nod in response, she shakes her head. “Not that any good person would judge you either way, but you realize you didn’t choose to be a hooker? Nor did you enter this country of your free will. I don’t think anyone looks at you as a burden or as causing trouble. What you don’t understand is, all the people in your life right now care about you. Not what you’ve done or where you’re from, but just you. They’re your friends. We’re your friends.”

  I’m trying to let what Pam’s saying percolate. Friends. That’s unfamiliar territory and I obviously have much to learn. Some days I feel older than dirt, only to discover that in other ways I’m as naive as a newborn.

  “Your guilt, on the other hand, is understandable.” I look up, surprised at that. Pam’s eyeing me with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah. I’m not saying it’s appropriate, I’m saying I get it. Shit went down and people got involved. They want to help you get out of the mess you’re in. And you’re hiding out in Tim’s house, sticking your head in the sand. God forbid, even enjoying yourself, while others are worrying on your behalf. Am I right?”

  I nod in response. She’s right. I have been avoiding. Both Syd and Viv have called Tim’s phone and I’ve let him talk to them. I didn’t want to talk about the shitstorm that followed me to Portland. I just wanted to be normal for a while. “Yeah,” I say out loud. “I just—”

  Pam’s hand comes up, palm out, to stop me. “No need to explain. You deserve a little time pretending there’s not a world out there for you to deal with. But you can’t hide out forever. I can’t predict what will happen—don’t know how things will end up—but I do know that you have a group of people around you who will do everything in their power to keep you safe and to keep you here. You owe it to them to look out for yourself.”

  Ouch. That one hit target. “I do,” I softly admit, earning a gentle smile.

  “Glad you’re talking with Mark today. Let him and Tim help you sort through what steps you need to take to get through to the other side of this. Trust them.”

  Trusting Tim is becoming easier by the minute, since he’s done nothing to indicate otherwise.

  Trusting his brother, the cop? Now that’s a real challenge.

  Tim

  “$3,000 is my bottom dollar.”

  The guy puts a proprietary hand on the large, industrial-sized planer that looks well-used. Granted, the list price for the thing was probably closer to seven grand, but when he called this morning in response to my ad, looking for one of these babies for around two and a half grand, he told me he was in the ballpark. I’m pretty pissed he’s talked me into driving all the fucking way to Boston, where he told me he wanted three and a half to start. The three he now offers is a good deal for the high quality machine, but I’d budgeted for five hundred less. I also still need a joiner kit and a hand planer. So I tell him.

  “That’s my entire budget. The extra five bills you’re asking are for a couple of other tools I need.”

  “What else are you looking for?” the older man wants to know, waving his hand around the old warehouse. Used tools are everywhere, and I have to admit, I’ve been scanning the place for other deals. When I tell him what else I need, he walk
s over to a folding table in the far corner. “This is a DeWalt.” He shows me the joiner, which appears to be in near new condition. “Hang on, I think I have a portable planer somewhere, same brand.” Off he goes again, rummaging through boxes until he finally surfaces, a familiar black and yellow casing on the tool in his hand. “Yup, DeWalt as well. A little older than the joiner, but working fine. Everything I buy is checked and cleaned. Plug it in there, if you want to see for yourself.” He waves in the direction of a workbench with a power block attached to the side. “Three G’s for the lot. Final offer,” he says.

  “Done,” I give in, shaking his proffered hand, after making sure all of them work. I’m pleased I stayed within budget and happy with the new contact I’ve made. Well worth the trip, even if it meant leaving Ruby behind. I’ve gotten pretty addicted to being around her. Not that I have much in experience, never really having had a relationship worth any mention, but Ruby’s easy to be around.

  It takes the two of us, plus one of his laborers, to load the damn planer on the back of my truck, but half an hour later, with the purchases strapped down and my wallet a lot flatter, I set course home to Portland. My mind is divided with thoughts on how to get this damn machine in my garage and the fastest way to get Ruby home and naked. Ruby naked wins.

  There’s a reason I’ve opted to just sleep with her in my arms these last two nights, but I’ll be damned if I can remember it clearly. Something about wanting to show her she means more than just someone to bang. That first night was fucking amazing, but I didn’t want to presume. The few hefty make out sessions we’ve had since, were killer to put a halt to. Not sure how many more times I’ll be able to pull back. Ruby’s become more and more enthusiastic in her participation, to the point where I almost feel I’m doing more damage than good by pulling back. If the cute little pout of her full lips is anything to go by. Damn if that doesn’t make me want to start kissing that mouth all over again. For a novice kisser, Ruby sure has learned fast.