Jake opened his mouth to argue. He wanted to be responsible for her safety. Hell, he wanted to give her the stars. The thought crashed through his mind, alien and unusual. Women were a commodity for him. He fucked them and moved on, normally remaining friends. It was different with Sorrel. He wanted to protect her, to cherish her damn it. And he sure as hell wanted to get in her pants again.
He’d like time for a slow loving in a big, soft bed. Maybe a flash hotel room with a spa bath and one of those showers with multiple shower heads. Big, thick cotton towels. Room service. Hell, yeah. As soon as this was over, he promised himself, already imagining Sorrel’s eyes and her shy smile as she enjoyed the sensual treat.
Jake peeked out the window and slid from her workshop, returning an hour later, frustration simmering through him.
“There were people everywhere. I saw Sister Marigold’s bare butt.” He shuddered. “Not something I want to repeat. And I didn’t find anything useful to report to Luke.”
“Did you search Brother Rick’s quarters?”
Jake pulled off his robe and joined Sorrel on the pallet. “You were right. He took three women back to his quarters.”
“Three?”
“Yeah—three of the younger, prettier ones.”
“No doubt the women will be subtly bragging about it tomorrow. Not many people get to visit Brother Rick in his quarters.”
“I don’t want to talk about Brother Rick.” Jake switched off the light she’d left burning for him and rapidly discarded his sandals, clothes and concealed weapon. He slipped under the blankets and reached for her.
“Why are you still dressed?”
“I wasn’t sure if one of the men would check on you again. I didn’t want to risk it.”
“Take off your robe,” he said. “I’ll run interference if anyone arrives unexpectedly.”
He sensed her hesitation, even though he couldn’t see her face clearly. It was a brief pause, and he held his breath, wanting her to trust him, to realize he’d protect her should the need arise.
A grin spread across his face when she sat up. He heard the rustle of her robe, the whisper of fabric when she removed her padding and lay back down beside him. A satisfied sigh whispered from him. He was right where he wanted to be—with Sorrel, her warm limbs sliding against his.
“Is it cold out there?”
“A little,” he said, pulling her over him, so she lay on top of his larger body. She wriggled a fraction before relaxing.
“Kiss me,” Jake said. “Now is your chance to explore.”
“Really?” She sounded thrilled at the idea.
“I’m all yours.” He could imagine his friends’ reaction if they’d heard that little snippet. Shock. Teasing. All the shit he’d given them while they fell for their women lobbed straight back at him. His elation deepened when he didn’t feel alarm or the urge to flee.
Sorrel explored his face with her hands, mapping it in the darkness. His cheekbones, his eyelids. His lips. She tugged at his beard. “I don’t like your beard. It hides too much of your face.”
“I do look pretty without my beard,” he said.
“Are you sure you don’t have a weak chin?”
“Nope. You can’t argue with the truth,” he said. “I’m a catch.”
Laughing, she wriggled down his body, and blood surged into his cock. She must’ve felt the prod of his dick, but she ignored it in favor of running her hands over his chest. Busy fingers searched out his nipples. She bent her head and explored his chest with her mouth. Teeth scraped his nipples, and he flinched at the arc of sensation that roared straight to his groin.
“Damn, you’re good at this.”
“Think how good I’ll be after I practice some more.”
He laughed, the hoarse sound fading abruptly when her tongue circled his navel and dipped inside.
His scent, rich and masculine, with a hint of herbs filled the air, combined with her feminine one. She licked across his hipbone.
“Lower,” he said, shifting impatiently. He wanted her mouth around his cock, licking and exploring his shaft. No sooner had the thought formed then her hand curled around him. A shudder went through him at the increase in friction. “That feels great, sweetheart.”
Her hand moved up and down, stroking him and learning his texture, his size.
“Put your mouth on me,” he gritted out. Damn, he hadn’t meant to issue it as an order. “If you want,” he added, hoping like hell she’d just do it already.
“Like this?”
Wet, hot heat surrounded his tip. “Fuck, yes,” he whispered, his fingers spearing through her hair, fighting the urge to direct her with his hands. “Take me deeper. Lick me and suck.”
She followed his instructions, her untutored mouth more erotic than anything he’d felt before. A tremor racked him. Her hair tickled his thighs and his belly, and he realized she’d freed it from her normal braid. He wished he had a visual. Imagination and the feel of her hair in his hands would have to do.
Her tongue flicked over his slit, lingered, and her mouth tightened around the head of his cock. A strangled curse tore from his throat, and his whole body hummed from the pleasure of her mouth. She licked along his shaft, down one side and up the other before closing her lips around him again. His hips jerked, driving him deeper into her warm mouth. Raw need pulsed through him, yet he tamped it down, not wanting to rush her. This was her time to explore, and she deserved to move at her own pace.
She sucked, dragging a groan from him. “That’s it. Your mouth feels good. Use your tongue a little more on the head.”
Seconds later, he was in heaven, his balls so tight he thought he might explode. She added the suction of her mouth again, and he bucked, driving his cock farther past her lips. She made a coughing sound and jerked back.
“Sorry,” she said.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said. “Let me grab a condom.” He lifted her off him and rolled onto his side, rifling through his pile of clothes for the box of condoms. He couldn’t find it in the dark, but he found what was left of the strip of condoms they’d used earlier in the day. He ripped one open and rolled on the condom.
“Uh, what color is that one?”
He glanced down at his shaft and groaned. Even though there was no light, the condom glowed like a peppermint stick in red and white stripes. “You mean you can’t see my candy cane dick?”
She giggled, a surprising sound he hadn’t heard before. It made his lips twitch and his heart lighten.
“It looks like an old-fashioned barber’s pole.”
Jake snorted and reached for her. “Would you like to try a different position?”
“Yes?”
He laughed at her doubt and lifted her over him. She automatically parted her legs and settled astride his thighs.
“I wish I could see your hair. I can feel it tickling my legs.”
“Sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. How long is it?”
“I’ve never cut it, not apart from snipping off the brittle ends. It reaches my backside.”
“And a very pretty backside you have, sweetheart.”
She giggled again, making him grin.
“Are you wet?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to finger yourself and stroke your clit. Make yourself even wetter for me.” He could feel her hesitation, yet damn if he’d force her to do anything that brought discomfort. “Only if you want to,” he added.
There was a long pause. Jake strained to hear in the darkness. Her thighs flexed as she rose. He could almost hear her hesitation, a living, breathing thing between them. Then he heard a liquid squelch. He almost laughed, but he bit his lip, not wanting to embarrass her.
“Does it feel good?”
“I think sin usually feels good,” she said in a dry tone. “At least that’s what Brother Samuel said.”
“Sex isn’t a sin. Touching yourself isn’t a sin either.” He imagined anything that delayed th
e production of babies was a sin to the founder of Children of Nature.
“Do you touch yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you show me?”
“I’ll show you if you show me,” he said, pretty sure she’d chicken out.
“Okay,” she said with a trace of eagerness.
This time his laugh barked out before he could slam on the brakes—a rich chuckle from deep in his chest. Liberating. Relaxing. Joyful.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I thought you’d say no,” he confessed. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes. Very good.”
He heard the distinct rub of her fingers against her flesh. He imagined her folds would be swollen and flushed with blood, her clit a hard knot of arousal. “Once you think you’ve done that enough, I want you to give me your hand so I can lick it clean.”
She inhaled sharply, the muscles of her inner thighs flexing against his. Then, when he wondered if he’d shocked her too much, she moved, wriggling her way up his body. Wet heat pushed against his stomach, the scent of her heady and enticing. She found his lips on the second try and dragged the tip of her finger around the outline of his mouth.
“You have soft lips.”
“Is that surprise, I hear?”
“You’re hard everywhere else,” she said.
“And you like it.”
“I do.” She ran her finger across the seam of his mouth, and he helpfully parted his lips. He drew her finger inside, sucking on it, much as she’d sucked on his cock.
“Oh,” she said, her tone startled.
He released her finger to speak. “I have a magic touch.” Before she could reply he sucked another of her fingers into his mouth and gave it the same treatment.
“Most people would accuse you of boasting.”
He withdrew her finger, ready to move on to the next one. “I don’t boast. Not much.”
“I’m glad you qualified your words.”
“Use your free hand to stroke your breast. Twist and pull your nipple. Pinch it until it’s a little tender to the touch.” When he was sure she’d followed his instructions he licked another finger clean. “Swap hands,” he said.
Silently, she presented her other hand to him, and he repeated the process, enjoying the hell out of the musky taste of her.
“What next?”
“Guide my cock to your entrance and sink down until you’re impaled. Take your time.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to lean over and kiss your breasts until you’re ready to move.” Suiting action to words, he roughly sucked a nipple into his mouth, drawing hard enough to send a spike of sensation to her pussy.
“Jake,” she whispered in a broken voice.
“Take me inside you, sweetheart.” He remembered the clinging warmth of her channel and could hardly wait to repeat the process. Tight, wet heat. There was nothing better.
She fumbled with his cock, unsure of her movements, but he thought the darkness helped because it masked her reactions, helped her feel bolder. She hesitated a fraction before pushing down. Unable to help himself, he surged upward, driving himself deeper into her body. A gasp escaped her and he froze, heart trying to hammer its way from his chest.
“Am I hurting you?” He’d hurt her enough today with his hard words, and he’d rip off his left arm rather than do it again.
“It—you feel strange. A good strange,” she added before he could ask the question. She kept pushing down until he was embedded in her. “Now what?”
“Now I don’t look like a candy cane.” He gritted his teeth, steeling himself against the impulse to take control. No, she needed this. He needed to earn her trust. Once he could breathe again without his eyes crossing, he said, “Now you rise and fall, like someone riding a horse. Experiment with the angle until you find one that feels good.”
She trailed her fingertips across his stomach, making his skin twitch and sing with the contact. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. This is for you to help you learn what you like.”
“Okay.” The happiness in her voice helped to tamp down his urge to manhandle her onto her back and power into her until he was sated.
“If it helps, you can touch yourself at the same time.”
“Okay.” This time her clear interest came through. She started moving, experimenting, making him crazy. A quick learner. Pride filled him at the thought, along with a rampaging fire, searing every inch of his body. He caught her hips, subtly guiding her into a rhythm to satisfy them both.
A sharp gasp came from her, and her pussy rippled around him, gripping him in a sensual massage.
She leaned back and rose above him, sank back down. She quickened her pace, gasped. He felt her finger as it slid along the base of his shaft. Quick, hard strokes as she rubbed herself. She groaned, and seconds later, she was coming, squeezing his cock in tight pulses.
Jake gripped her hips and slammed her up and down, pushing himself past the sweet pain and falling into orgasm. When the pulses ceased, he arranged her against his chest. A small part of his brain was telling him to pull out of her and deal with the condom, but she felt so good. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, breathing in the sweet scent of herbs and flowers, the underlying pungent aroma of her hair and the musky smell of sex. Yeah. He smiled against her hair. There was nowhere else he’d rather be right now.
Chapter Eight
The compound came to life much more slowly than the previous day. When Sorrel wheeled her handcart to the entrance gates with Jake behind her, the breakfast bell hadn’t rung yet. Jake had raided the kitchens and talked the only person he could find into giving him food.
“Is it always like this after a gathering?”
Sorrel nodded. “The noise went late.”
“I would have expected the children to be up at least,” Jake said.
“They probably are, but their minders would have warned them against waking Brother Rick,” Sorrel said. “None of the children will risk punishment.”
As they approached the exit, one of the men jerked awake. His hair stuck up, making him resemble an old toilet brush. The other man continued his snoring, his white robe smeared with grass stains. Sorrel averted her gaze to her feet.
“Good morning,” Jake said.
Toilet brush man said, “What’s good about it?”
“It’s not raining,” Jake said.
“Huh! You off to town?”
“Yes.”
The gates creaked as they opened, and the snoring man grunted, his eyes flickering open. They were unfocused and confused.
Sorrel pushed her cart through, glad to leave the compound. The place had lost its serenity for her. Only when she was with Jake did she feel as if she didn’t need to check over her shoulder and scrutinize everyone in the vicinity.
The path widened, and Jake pushed his cart beside hers. “I’m going to risk meeting with Luke Morgan this morning. I’ll leave you at the store. Wait for me at the bench by the river, and I’ll come and get you as soon as I can.”
“What if the ladies get suspicious?”
“I doubt they’ll be feeling very bright after last night. From what I heard in the ablution block not many of the women abstained last night.”
When they arrived at the shop it was still closed, and a knock on the door didn’t bring anyone to answer their summons.
“Do you have a key?”
“I think they leave one with the neighboring shop owner, but they haven’t arrived either. Why don’t I sit and wait? Even if someone comes soon it will take me a while to unload, and you’ll be able to spend longer with your friend.”
Jake nodded. He brushed a kiss across her lips, holding her tight for a few seconds longer. “Take care.”
* * * * *
Jake went to the police station first, loitering behind the trunk of a pine tree and watched to see who was on duty. Some of the tension seeped out of him when
he recognized Luke’s father, Richard Morgan, who was also a police officer, arrive in his vehicle. Jake darted around the rear of the police station in order to intercept him.
“I need to see Luke,” Jake said. “Is he handy?”
“He’s at home. I can take you to see him.”
Jake considered and nodded. “I’ll ride in the back and keep out of sight. I don’t want anyone to see me.” He slipped into the rear of the vehicle, ducked down and yanked the door shut behind him.
“Here’s my phone,” Richard said. “You’d better ring him to let him know we’re coming. Luke is speed dial two.”
A short drive later they arrived at an isolated property on the outskirts of the town.
“You’re safe to come out,” Richard said after scanning their surroundings. “Go straight up the stairs and through the front door. It will be open.”
Jake popped up his head, scrutinized the area to insure he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and burst into action. He’d just stepped into the house when the growl of a dog froze him in his tracks.
“Damn it, Killer,” Richard snapped. “He’s come to see Luke. Let him in.”
The dog growled again, this time with none of the hair-raising tone to its snarl. The bristle of hair along the dog’s spine smoothed out.
“If you stand aside and let him past we’ll all find out what he wants,” Richard said.
Jake’s eyes narrowed as the dog turned away and trotted off.
“Follow Killer,” Richard said. “They’ll be in the kitchen.”
Jake stared in bemusement for long seconds, before shrugging and following the dog. He found himself in a large, sunny kitchen. Luke sat at a table with his wife Janaya. They both had mugs of coffee sitting in front of them, their attention on the growling dog. It was as if they were having a conversation.
“Your dog wanted to eat me,” Jake said.
“I don’t know why,” Luke said. “You look like an unappetizing hobo.”
Jake took possession of a chair. “The hobo look is itchy. I can’t wait to get rid of this damn beard.”
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