Cuffing Her
Page 7
I fuck her until the pulsing stops, releasing her clit as I pull out and step back. She’s on her knees again, and even in the muted light I can see our combined juices sliding down her thigh. She grips my dick in her hand and strokes it, the lubrication from her pussy slick and warm. Her mouth crashes over me then, and I lean back against a wall as she bobs up and down. I grab another fistful of her hair and guide her as I fuck her mouth.
“Lick it,” I say, and her tongue springs into action. It flicks against my tip as she plunges my dick in and out of her mouth, sucking off her own cum.
“Fuck!” I scream as I unload into her mouth. She swallows with my dick still in her mouth, my cum sliding down her throat as I pull out of her. I slide my back along the wall, and I pull her into my arms, cradling her close to me. My heart is pounding in my chest, and hers is racing just as fast.
We lay on her floor, my pants at my ankles, her completely naked, fighting to regain some level of control. My whole body is relaxed. I can’t honestly remember the last time that happened. Our breathing slows. Fuck, I hope she doesn’t go stiff and kick me out like last time. Her body is supple and warm.
There’s no tension. She inhales.
“That was fucking awesome,” she says, and I laugh.
“Agreed.”
I glance down at her and grin. My eyes wander from her face and down her body. Her breasts are round and plump, her pussy sporting a clean little landing strip. Just looking at her has me hot again. My dick stirs, but it won’t get hard so soon after. It doesn’t stop my craving.
“One more thing,” I say. I stand with her in my arms, and I set her bare ass on her desk, spreading her legs.
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t clean up my messes?” I ask. I slide my finger along her slit and she gasps again. This time, I’m on my knees. I spread her wider. I take my index fingers and spread her as far open as I can, then I plunge my tongue inside. I lap upward, licking as far up her box as I can, and then I slide out and flick my tongue along her clit.
She’s moaning again, but I’m too distracted. I want to taste her. I want to fall asleep tonight with her pussy on my lips and her cum on my dick. I go back to fucking her with my tongue as my finger circles her bean, keeping her pussy spread wide with my fingers as I do. Even this soon after an orgasm, my cock grows hard, and I can’t help myself.
I stand and slide my dick inside. I continue to circle her sensitive little nub as I fuck her, nice and slow this time. I draw it out, because we’re both sensitive, so it won’t take us long.
It doesn’t. Within minutes, Naomi is screaming again.
“Fuck me, Ben. Fuck me!”
I pick up the pace and another orgasm rocks her body, the clenched muscles spurring my own climax. I pull out of her and grab her again, holding her close.
“There. Now we’re good.”
“You have high standards,” she pants.
I wipe a bead of sweat from her brow and bend down to pick up her discarded underwear. I hand them to her with a smile. “Always have, always will.”
We dress then, fully sated. Naomi turns out the light and leads the way out, and I close the door behind us.
“You should stop by more often,” she says. It’s an open invitation, and I’m glad for it. I like Naomi. More than I should, probably. With a sharp wit and a body like that, how can I not?
“Always willing to serve,” I reply, and she laughs.
“You provide exceptional service, that’s for sure.”
“Happy for the good review. Don’t forget to leave one online, too.”
“Ha,” she replies. She pulls out a set of keys and locks the front door. She turns back and gestures down a back hallway.
“This is the way I leave. Closer to my front door.”
“I’m happy to walk you home,” I say, and her smile warms my heart.
Are those butterflies? Seriously?
I clear my throat and keep walking. I want to ignore these sensations. They don’t lead anywhere good.
The cool air clears my head as we step outside, and I walk her the few short steps to her door.
“Well, thanks for dinner,” I say, and she laughs again.
“Not much of one. Next time, I’ll cook you something proper.”
“I thought the meal was exceptional,” I say, and my meaning is clear. Even in the dark, I see her blush. I capture her chin between my index finger and thumb and meet her eyes.
“Thanks for that,” I mumble. I press my lips to hers. She meets me with gusto, and I wonder if I have another round in me. I shouldn’t, though. Maybe another time.
“Goodnight,” I say.
“Goodnight, Ben.”
I watch her walk inside, and I wait for the lock to click before I head back to my car.
I remember thinking that getting involved with Naomi would get me into trouble. Now, I know for sure that is absolutely true.
Chapter Eleven
Naomi
When I wake up, the sun is shining on my pillow. It’s the best sleep I’ve had in ages. I reach my fingertips above my head until they graze my headboard, and I point my toes, getting a nice, good stretch.
I’m a little bit sore.
I can still feel him. His presence wraps around me like a cozy blanket, and I like that the memory of his dick still rests inside my body. Last night was probably the best sex I’ve had in my entire life, and that wasn’t even the best part.
My stomach flutters as I remember his goodnight kiss, the fact that he walked me to my door. When I first met him, I thought he was some bad boy asshole looking for a good time, but so much has changed in such a short period of time.
For one thing, he’s saved my staff and my restaurant. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but there was no way I could have taken on Skippy and his cronies.
His crystal blue eyes flash across my memory, and I grin into my pillow.
I’ve had a hard time trusting men in the past, and with very, very good reason. I’ve had my walls up for a long time. With Ben, as much as we bicker, I still find that I want to talk to him, to spend time with him. I want to have sex with him every time I see him, which isn’t all that bad of a sensation either. Sex with my ex was vanilla compared to what Ben offers. He’s the whole package, and he might be into me, too.
Could this be the guy to end my trust issues for good? Maybe someone I can be with forever?
I let the thought sit unfinished. I don’t want to overthink this. I want to enjoy the experience of dating someone I have a crush on. For now, it should be enough. I glance at my bedside clock and exhale.
I should get to work. There is prep that needs to get done before the lunch rush, assuming we have one and Skippy doesn’t show up and scare people away again. Just the thought has my blood boiling, and I’m up and out of bed. I need to move. If I lay still any longer, I’ll start thinking up worst-case scenarios in my head, and that doesn’t do anyone any good.
I slide a blue flower-print dress over my head and slip on yesterday’s boots. My lip curls as I remember how Ben insisted I keep them on last night, how he took command and had his way with me. I never knew that I would be so into something like that, but everything he did drove me wild. My body tingles in anticipation of the next time.
I whistle as I walk into the back kitchen. Paul is already there doing prep work for the fish I sent him out for earlier this morning, and he stifles a yawn when he sees me.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” I say. I can’t help that there’s a spring in my step, and he lifts a curious eyebrow at me but doesn’t ask the question. Paul likes to keep to himself, and I understand that. That’s why he likes working for me. I don’t pry. “Where are you at?”
He shows me how far he’s gotten in his process, and I slide right in. Together, we work in productive silence until Katie arrives. I’m happy to see that she is her usual chipper self.
“Another beautiful day!” she chirps, and I nod. “Another d
ay and a better one, I’m sure.”
“Of course. If we get any unsavory characters, I’ve got the sheriff’s department on speed dial in my phone. If someone acts, Ben will know about it,” I say.
“Probably a good move. Let me know if you need anything.” Katie grins.
Katie’s out and about, and soon orders stream in. A surprising amount of them. When I set four plates of food on the counter for Katie to take, she breezes in even as she’s writing on her notepad. She sets a fresh pile of orders on the counter, and I take a look at them then look back up at Katie with awe.
“This is amazing. We’ve got a full dining room!”
Katie’s eyes are bright as she looks up at me. I can tell she’s a little stressed. She’s never had this many customers, this many tables to manage at once. I knew she had a little experience when I hired her, but now I’m wondering how little.
“Apparently, someone shared how great your food was on the town Facebook page. Folks around here may not be all that hip, but they’re on social media. There’s even a line developing!”
“That’s awesome.” My heart soars at this news.
We might make it in this little town after all. I don’t have time to dwell on the success of it though, as Katie finishes writing and piles two more orders for us to work on. The lunch shift is in full force when she sweeps back in with another set of orders.
“Naomi, there’s someone here to see you.”
“What, to compliment the chef?”
“No, he just walked in. He says he knows you, but Naomi, he’s with Skippy. What should I do?”
I curse under my breath and take the slips from her hand. I pass them to Paul and meet his gaze. “You got this for a bit?”
He nods. “I’ve got this, boss. If you need help, give a shout.”
“I will. Thanks,” I say.
I pull off my apron and head out into the dining room. The second Katie sees that I am handling it, she steps back out to go refill drinks. The room is noisy with conversation, and the sound warms my heart right before it turns to stone.
His face is burned into my brain, of course.
Why wouldn’t it be? I dated him for long enough and knew him well before then. Jordan Henderson was supposed to be the love of my life. He looks exactly like he did the last time I saw him.
His arms are thick with corded muscle and sleeved in tattoos. He wears a tight black T-shirt, in spite of the cold weather, and dark denim jeans. His black hair is tousled, his green eyes serpentine as he stares me down. He may be handsome, but he’s not perfect. His nose is crooked from being broken so many times, and when he smiles at me, the little gap between his front teeth takes center stage.
“Naomi. A pleasure to see you, as always.”
His voice is deep and grainy, his tone familiar. I glance around to see if his or Skippy’s presence has alerted anyone, but no one seems to care. They’re enjoying each other’s company, completely oblivious to the scum that’s walked through my door.
And this day started off so well.
“If I could have a word with you gentlemen outside, please,” I say in my most professional voice.
Jordan crosses his arms and smirks at me. “Look at you, acting the boss. What are you going to do if we make a scene? Call your cop boyfriend? News travels fast around here, sweetheart.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not going to engage with you in this room, Jordan. Either step outside with me, or I will call the cops.”
He doesn’t like my tone. His eyes harden, and he stares me down. After a heavy pause, he laughs and slaps Skippy on the back. “Let’s humor the pretty lady, shall we, Skip? After you,” he says, opening the door and waving his hand for me to walk through. I want to tell him no. I want to tell him to fuck off. Since we’re so busy, I have no choice but to go if it means it will get them out of sight of customers. I walk across the street and wait for them to join me.
Jordan waits until a car approaches, then he slowly crosses the street, forcing them to slam on their brakes. The old man behind the wheel honks at him, and Jordan flips him the bird.
“I see you haven’t stopped being an asshole,” I say, and Jordan laughs as he and Skippy join me.
The air is cold, and I wrap my arms around my middle as I stare them down.
“You used to love that about me, Naomi. You used to like a good risk, a little bit of fun.”
“That was before you fucked my family over. Now what are you doing here? What do you want?”
“Oh, come now. You know that’s not true. We were good together, Naomi. Remember the old times? Just you and me, a motorcycle, and plenty of adventures?”
“No. I don’t. Do you have anything else to say before I remind you that your friend here has a permanent ban from my place, and that now applies to you, too?”
Jordan glares at me, and his hand twitches. I wonder if he has a gun, then I realize that’s ridiculous. Jordan was always a bad boy, but it never went that far. He liked to flirt with danger, but he never went all the way with it.
“Skippy here tells me that you’ve been hanging with a cop. That true?”
I glare at Skippy, who snorts and spits a large chunk of snot onto the ground. That is his only reaction to Jordan’s statement.
“I had no idea Skippy was so invested in my love life.”
“I like to have my men keep an eye out for people who matter to me. And you do matter to me, Naomi.”
“I recommend that you change that opinion, because you mean nothing to me, and you never will.”
“You don’t want to hang out with the wrong crowd. You know what cops are like. I don’t know what wool this guy’s pulled over your eyes, but it’s always the same in the end. You’re not the kind of girl who ends up with a cop, Naomi. You’re one of us.”
“Are you done?” I grit my teeth to keep them from chattering. I don’t know if it’s the cold or my nerves or both, but what I do know is I want these men far away. I want to be safe in my kitchen.
Jordan releases a dramatic sigh. “Oh, Naomi, what are we going to do with you? Once you come to your senses, give me a call. You’d fit in well with me and my boys, and we know the best places to get a drink.”
“Never.”
“Suit yourself. Door’s open for when you change your mind.”
His confidence radiates as he nods for Skippy to follow him. The obedient dog does just that, and the two of them head toward a pair of motorcycles. Jordan blows me a sarcastic kiss before they kick their motors on and speed off down the coast. I am mortified that he even bothered to show up here.
My poor brother is rotting in a jail cell. Because of that man.
Chapter Twelve
Ben
I stroll into the station a little later than usual, and of course, I’ll get shit about it from James. He doesn’t look up at me.
“Good morning,” I say, my tone cheerful.
When he looks up, I can tell he’s pissed. I seem to annoy him pretty regularly, so I can’t even guess what it is that I did this time. It’s not like there was an emergency. If there had been, I would have been called. I walk up to his desk, and he slams a piece of paper down in front of me.
“Twenty-nine concerned citizens, called back and checked out, sir.”
Ah, that’s what it is. I bite back a chuckle. That assignment probably sucked pretty hard, but to be fair, he was being annoying about Naomi.
Nothing wrong with building a little character through grunt work, right?
“Anything suspicious?” I ask, unperturbed by his attitude.
If he keeps it up, I’ll give him another shitty task. I can play this game all day until he learns to respect me.
My uncle was the sheriff in this town for his entire adult life. When he died, James probably would have been the better choice, but the people chose me.
James has yet to forgive me for that decision.
“No,” he says.
He has nothing else to sa
y to me, and he turns back to his computer. I feel a pang of guilt now, and I wonder if I should apologize. I didn’t mean to get his panties in a bunch. After all, the work had to get done by someone, so I didn’t do anything wrong.
Secure in this knowledge, I walk to my office without another word from him, and the glowing red light beckons to me, as it always does. When I check the voicemails, it’s another round of concerned boat owners looking for answers, and I take the information down diligently before deleting each one. When I reach the end, I sit back in my seat and look out the door.
James might have an aneurism if I give him another round of boats to check. It’s a quiet morning, and I have nothing else to work on, so I decide to take it on instead. I slide into my jacket and head right back out the door. When I do, James looks up.
“Where are you going?”
His tone irks me, but I don’t give in to my annoyance. I’ve got my eye on James, and I want him to trust me, at least on some level. Just until I figure him out. My instincts tingle when I’m around him, and I trust those.
“Another bunch of boats to be checked. I’ll take this round.”
His expression lightens, and his eyebrows lift from their scowl. “All right.”
“Great, thanks.”
It’s clearly not a day for words around here, and that’s fine with me. I inhale cold, crisp oceanic air, then I slide into my cold cruiser and drive to the docks. I spend the morning checking off boats on my list, pulling out my cell phone and calling the owners personally. I get a little flack for the lack of safety, but generally this list is filled with people who are simply excited that their boat hasn’t disappeared.
“I’m looking at her right now, sir. The boat looks to be in pristine condition.”
“Then you must be looking at the wrong boat,” the owner jokes, and I chuckle.
“I don’t think so. All is well.”
“Well, thank you for checking. I appreciate it.”
“Not at all. We’re happy to provide peace of mind.”