Rebel Betty

by Michaels, Carla

  Her breath gasped out, ragged. She arched her back, pressing against him until they both groaned. He brushed aside the strap of her tank top and began feathering light kisses along her shoulder, tracing the lines of her muscles.

  "Why did you keep the dragon?" He asked, staring at the deep green eyes.

  "It's a good luck charm."

  Lara shivered and leaned her head over, inviting him to continue. Thad brushed the braid of her hair to the side.

  “You’ve beautiful hair,” he said, smoothing his hand down her braid to the end, where black elastic held it in place. He tugged the elastic free and worked his fingers through the long strands of reddish-brown. “Although the black was good, too.”

  Lara braced both of her hands on the workbench. “It's my natural color," she admitted in a harsh whisper, pressing back against him. "And back then, I practically lived in leather and latex.”

  Thad was conscious of a white-hot streak of arousal zinging through his body at the words. Rebel Betty was gorgeous, but Lara, sweet, stubborn Lara in her cut-off shorts was the one he wanted, the one who had stolen his heart. He tugged the tank top down until it stretched between her shoulder blades, exposing the slim line of her spine. Reaching around, he cupped the fullness of her breasts and crowded her against the bench. The lace of her bra was a rough texture beneath his fingers. “As much fun as that would be, I prefer denim. And lace. And you, just the way you are now.”

  At Thad’s words, Lara felt the last remaining vestiges of her hesitation to slip away. Her knees had gone weak and trembling, and she was unsure if she could walk. Desire was an uncontrollable ache between her thighs, claiming control of her entire being.

  She turned, careful to keep full contact with his hard body. The grinding pressure of him against her was all that was keeping her upright. She dipped her head back so she could take his mouth. The narrowly controlled need echoed on his features did her in. Screw it, she thought. There were reasons, good, important reasons for keeping her personal life uncomplicated, but this connection suddenly felt more necessary than taking her next breath.

  She bunched his shirt up. He dipped his head, and she finished removing it and tossed it to the side. She hummed out an approving noise at the sight of his body, which was sleek and muscular, like a runner, then gasped as he took her mouth in a kiss that was wild and unrestrained.

  She could not get close enough to him. His tongue in her mouth was a delicious, speaking presence that scrambled her thoughts, and she was helpless to do anything besides open, and beg him for more.

  As his mouth moved and plundered her own, his hands laid waste to her body. The top button of her jeans popped open, and his hand plunged down the waistband, grabbing her ass. She was balanced on the edge of the workbench, spread open to accommodate the width of his hips, and every shift that edged him closer had her teetering on the brink. She had been without a man for so long that her entire being felt centered in the hot ache of pleasure between her legs, and she wanted to cry out in ecstasy.

  He ripped his mouth away, and Lara almost groaned at the loss. “Your shirt,” he growled. “Take off your shirt.” And without waiting for her to comply, he tugged the hem up until it caught beneath her arms, baring her breasts to his eyes.

  “Ah, God,” he groaned, seeing her clad only in the barest hint of lace. Using his thumbs, he tucked the lace below her breasts and bent down, capturing the hardened nipple with his mouth. She had the impression of warmth, and the rasp of his tongue across the swollen flesh, made her cry out at the incredible pleasure.

  Lara reached behind and tugged the shirt off the rest of the way. It sailed to the floor, joining his, and Lara threaded her fingers through his curly hair. “Harder,” she said, and tightened the grip of her legs around his waist.

  The pressure of his mouth increased. He drew on the nipple, testing it with the edge of his teeth while he fondled the other with his free hand, pinching it between his fingers until she had to bite back a scream.

  She was so close. She could feel the orgasm building in her legs, tightening the muscles that were clenched around him. His touch felt magical, more real and somehow more erotic than the other men she had been with in her life. The way he touched her made her feel that nothing had ever been this important.

  When he eased back she nearly snarled in frustration. “What…”She began, only to stop on a whimper when she felt his hands slowly unfastening the remaining buttons on her jeans, slowly, savoring the unveiling of her flesh.

  He fell to his knees and began tugging off he boots. “You want to stop, you better tell me now,” he said, and there was so much gravel in his voice that it wound her arousal even tighter.

  “Don't you dare stop,” she commanded, lifting first one foot and then the other so he could slide off her boots and then peel the jeans off her legs. When she stood before him in only tiny black panties he bent forward, nuzzling the taunt skin of her stomach.

  “I want to turn you over and screw you senseless,” he said, slowly edging the lace down, using the tips of his fingers. “I want to ride you until I can’t walk.”

  “Yes,” she said, unable to form a more coherent thought. She let go of his hair and tried to turn around but his hands stopped her.

  “No. I’m so close now that I will go off in a minute. I want this to last.” He pulled the lace down until she could step out of her panties. “Lean back,” he commanded, and lifted one leg to wrap around his neck. The cold press of steel bench was beneath her body, and the warm steel of his flesh, pressed into her.

  There was nothing to do but obey. She leaned back and closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his mouth pressing kisses down her stomach. He lifted, and settled her hips on the table and bent between her spread thighs. Vaguely she was aware of the wanton picture she must have made, naked and spread for his mouth, her legs resting on his back.

  His mouth was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt. Starting slowly, he gauged her reaction, increasing the pressure when she moaned, pulling back when he judged her too close to falling over the last precipice. He worked his lips around her, delving and tasting with slight pressure until her mind had ceased to function and all she could do was moan.

  A finger slipped inside of her. The fingers cupping her left hip were digging so hard that Lara knew there would be marks the next day but she did not care about anything but the rushing pleasure that was spiraling higher and higher, inexorably drawn by Thad’s skilled mouth.

  “God, you taste so good,” he groaned, and sucked harder, drinking in her essence.

  Lara felt herself falling over the edge. She screamed as the pleasure coalesced, drowning her in waves of sensation so powerful that all she could do was feel, savoring the waves of bliss. Thad did not stop when she began shuddering uncontrollably. He kept moving, the steady pleasure of his touch drawing out the orgasm.

  “Oh my God,” Lara groaned when she could again speak “I think I just died.” She levered herself up and tugged on his hair until Thad stood, and took her mouth in a kiss. She could taste herself in his mouth. It sent another streak of lust knifing through her, and she tightened her legs around his hips.

  “You now,” she said when he drew back to press a line of kisses down her throat.

  “I won't take long,” he said, drawing back enough to slide a finger between her legs. “Just let me…”

  “No,” she insisted, and dropped to her knees before him. The feminine part of her was pleased that he hovered so close to the edge that he was nervous about his ability to pleasure her. “I want to know what you taste like.”

  She unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper, slowly. She freed his erection and hummed out a surprised, pleased sound. “Why professor,” she teased, touching her lips to the engorged purple of his shaft. “What do we have here?”

  “It's a dick,” he choked out, groaning when her lips began to explore him.

  “I know,” she returned. “A lovely one. I can’t wait for it to be
inside of me.”

  Thad’s knees were buckling so he leaned back, bracing his elbows on the black metal table behind him. He could not take his eyes off Lara, the reddish strands of her hair fanning out, tickling him. Her eyes, now lit with a wicked dark flame, never looked away as she licked and teased over the expanse of him. A muscle jerked in his hips, driving them forward against the lush confines of her mouth. She obliged, opening her lips wide and engulfing him.

  It was pleasure so acute that it was pain. He closed his eyes, knowing that the hot pleasure he could see in her was driving him forward, and cupped the back of her skull. He tried to be gentle, moving in and out of her mouth with only the faintest pleasure but she would have none of his restraint. With a chuckle he could feel all the way in his toes she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed him, drawing him in and out in a relentless, scalding rhythm.

  He tried to pull out, to warn her that he had reached the edge, but under the onslaught of the most intense orgasm he could remember, he had no voice. And feeling the first drop on her tongue Lara did not pull away. She pulled him closer and swallowed, her short, stubby nails digging into his skin as he flexed.

  “Holy shit,” he said, pulling her up and crushing her to his chest as their breathing evened out.

  Lara laughed, and tucked her head into the hollow of his neck, a place that seemed made for her. Her hands refused to still, running over the sweat soaked muscles of his back down to his waist. The students in his class had been right, she thought dreamily. His ass was fantastic. And it was all hers.

  His thoughts must have been some echo of hers, for a large hand reached down and began stroking the skin of her back. “I hope you don’t think we are done,” he said.

  Lara leaned back and flashed him a grin that sent a curl of arousal through his body. That had been the source of her appeal, he realized in a flash of intuition. Not the sex-pot body or the lovely face. Her grin displayed an unmatched zest for life that was hopelessly erotic.

  “Are you up for it?” She murmured, eyes sweeping down the length of his body and the erection that was returning with vigor.

  He was on the verge of demonstrating just how up for it he was by bending her over the table when an insistent noise intruded on his mind. “What the…” he muttered, and then glared at the vivid brightness of his phone shining in the back pocket of his jeans. He was just about to decline the call with a swipe of his finger when he noticed the caller ID. The Oxford Police department.

  Lara had been about to tease him for taking a call in the middle of sex when she saw the transformation settling over his features, the setting of his jaw and the tightening of the skin around his eyes. He accepted the call and listened intently.

  “What happened?” He asked in a cold voice.

  Something was very wrong. She had gotten calls like that, middle of the night, and they were never anything good or pleasant. The first was three years ago, telling her that her father had died of a sudden heart attack. And then, only this year, the call when Will and Becky had died.

  Lara bent to the pile of clothes and began pulling on her jeans. She passed Thad his, and watched as he pulled them on, still listening intently.

  “Of course, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said, slipping his shoes on bare feet. Lara passed him the t-shirt, which he continued holding while he finished the call. The edges of his lips had gone white.

  Lara stuffed her bra and panties in a pocket and pulled her t-shirt on. Thad disconnected the call and bit out a curse.

  "God dammit."

  “What happened?” she asked, concerned by his angry face. In the weeks she had known him, Lara had never seen him look so stern.

  “Dwayne Jackson, a kid I have known for the last few years, just got picked up by the PD. He shot his father.”

  “Oh no,” she said, all thoughts of continuing their night together vanishing. “Can you help him?”

  “I think so. I have to go, though.” Lines creased his forehead, and his eyes, which had shot warm green sparks only two minutes before, had darkened to almost black. “He’s a good kid, and his father is an abusive asshole. I have to help him.”

  “Of course you do,” Lara said, and motivated by an emotion that she refused to examine too closely, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “We can finish this another time.”

  Thad kissed her, infusing the simple touch of his mouth with so much passion that she had to restrain herself from pulling him back to the workbench.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said when they reached the door of his jeep. He had thrown a few things in an overnight bag while making more calls. Lara had waited, silently lending him what support she could.

  “I know you will,” she said, watching as he reversed and then pulled out, guiding his jeep onto the highway.

  Chapter 12

  They communicated primarily by text over the next days, short little messages squeezed in between meetings with lawyers and the police department.

  Is it going to be OK? She sent after he had been gone for a day.

  We might have made a deal with the cops. The father will be arrested for domestic violence. Mom is going to testify. Dwayne will go into the army.

  That's good. Then, a little later,

  I miss you.

  He missed her too. Every moment that he did not spend trying to sort out Dwayne’s mess had been spent thinking about her. And not all of his thoughts had been reassuring. He had known Jesse for three years before they had married; for two of them they had lived together, only to have the marriage implode after less than a year. Something about having a gold ring attached to her finger made his ex suddenly break out in full lesbian.

  But after knowing Lara for only a few weeks he was suddenly picturing a happily ever after, complete with a white picket fence and a ready-made family. He hardly knew anything about her. The revelations in the barn had made that abundantly clear.

  I miss you too. Kenzie at her grandparents?

  Yes. After a few moments she texted him again.

  You could drive back and we could finish what we started.

  Thad’s hand clenched on the phone. His keys were in his pocket before he remembered the plans for early tomorrow.

  My brothers are coming in the morning. They are going to watch the kid until he musters out. You could come up here.

  Maybe I will.

  He tried sending her messages after that, but she did not respond. Probably went to sleep, he thought, or left her phone somewhere. He liked that she was not one of those women permanently attached to their devices.

  Actually, he liked everything that he did know about her, even the past she tried so hard to forget. That she could change her own oil and rebuild an engine. That she was smart, but in a totally different way than he was. That she took care of herself, but did not obsess over her weight or her looks. How she was incredibly sexy in both her guises.

  There were parts of her that were not so perfect, of course. Lust had not blinded him to her flaws, the most obvious being a lack of any discernible self-confidence. How someone so obviously intelligent and lovely could place that little value in herself was a mystery. And knowing just how much money Lara had gave him an uncomfortable feeling. Between his salary and book royalties, he made a healthy living, but nowhere near the kind of fortune she possessed.

  Thad got up and fixed himself a drink; chilled bourbon in a heavy old glass that burned a fiery path down his throat. He’d talked to Mike about her today, sitting at the old kitchen table that had been the center of his world from the time he was 17 until he left for the Marine Corp. Next to him, Mike’s partner, a trim older African American man who taught high school and Karate, listened intently but did not say much. Ivan and Mike had only been open about their relationship for the last few years, but Thad had known for a long time that his foster father and friend was gay. It had been a local scandal, the gay man taking in the four orphaned Gilbert boys after their parents
had died. More than a few questions had been asked about his motivations, but the simple fact remained that nobody else wanted to deal with them.

  “The one who built the motorcycles? The pin up?”

  Thad nodded, and poked at his breakfast cereal with a spoon. Mike and Ivan exchanged a glance. They had been together for so long that they could hold entire conversations without saying a word.

  “So what's the problem?”

  He’d hardly dared speak the words out loud. “I think I am falling in love with her.”

  Ivan snorted and got up to putter around the kitchen. Mike lifted his coffee to his lips and drank, savoring the rich, bitter taste. A wisp of foam clung to his graying mustache.

  “Again, what's the problem?”

  That, Thad could not answer, at least not out loud. Fear, he realized, staring into his drink. Emotional upheavals scared him on a bone-deep level. He’d been terrified when he’d lost his parents, and faced the destruction of his family if he could not keep them together. Finding a love like his parents, or worse, finding it and then screwing it up, terrified him. Maybe that was why he’d been so quick to move in with Jesse and then the marriage. He had been reassured by her emotional distance.

  He pictured Jesse sitting in some ratty little boat, arm draped around her girlfriend as they explored the deepest parts of the Amazonian rainforest, her angular, Tinker Bell face and tiny body bathed in bug spray. Though he’d not wish her ill, part of him laughed at the idea of her stuck somewhere for months with no indoor plumbing.

  Thad sat in the rocker on the front porch of his bungalow. The crickets were chirping, singing their songs to the night, and moisture hung sticky in the air. Far in the distance he could hear the muffled barking of a dog, a sound soon echoed by the other canines on the street.

  He lived in a quiet neighborhood on the edge of town, on a street that was favored by older men and women who liked the views of the state park. Some nights he could see the graceful silhouettes of deer as they ventured from the safety of the forest at dusk.