Damaged

by Jeanne St. James

  “It was stupid of me not to have my cell phone nearby.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this worse. Don’t blame yourself. You’re doing what you should be: moving on and living your life.”

  He picked up his beer bottle from the side table, took one long swig, then one more, before placing it back on the “FBI: Female Body Inspector” coaster. He said the coasters were a gag gift from his sister when he had graduated from the Academy.

  “Where’s the rest of it?”

  Without even asking, she knew what he wanted. She leaned over and picked up the folder she’d thrown on the floor next to the couch. She offered it to him without a word. He took it and laid it in his lap, not even opening it.

  Instead, he studied her face while he asked, “Are these copies or originals?”

  “A little of each.”

  “Do you really want me to see them?”

  Without hesitation, she answered him truthfully. “No.”

  “But you’ll let me look at them,” he said, his expression shuttered.

  “Yes.”

  She grabbed her wine glass from the table by his feet and finished off the two remaining swallows. It was false hope; she didn’t think the alcohol would help her get through this. This amounted to picking at a healing wound. She didn’t want to relive it.

  He finally tore his gaze away from her face and opened the folder. When he picked up the first photo, Colby looked away. She didn’t need to look at the pictures to remember. All she had to do was close her eyes, and she couldn’t forget.

  She turned her attention to the TV, trying to concentrate on a news piece about a town councilman getting into hot water.

  “Jesus Christ.” What started out as a shocked whisper ended up not a minute later as an explosive, “That motherfucker!”

  He whipped the folder across the room, the dozens of photos spilling like confetti over the carpet. One landed at her feet, and her own face, hardly recognizable due to the swelling and discoloration, stared back at her. Colby closed her eyes, willing back the tears.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He pushed himself up and went around the room collecting the photos, jamming them back into the folder. Picking the PFA off the coffee table, he shoved it into the folder as well before throwing the whole thing onto the seat of the nearby recliner.

  He settled back beside her on the couch and took another long pull at his beer. “I’m sorry, Colby.”

  She wanted to ask him for what, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. He was probably sorry she’d made herself a victim. He was probably sorry she didn’t leave Craig sooner. He was probably sorry she’d been too weak to protect herself from harm. He might be sorry she’d been so desperate to love somebody, she’d picked the wrong person. Maybe he was just sorry he lost his temper and threw her folder, her painful reminder, across the room.

  “I’m sorry you were hurt like that. I wish I found you a lot sooner.” The last was said softly, so softly, it tugged strongly at her. She wished she’d met him a lot sooner as well.

  “Your battle scars are much worse,” she reminded him.

  He hesitated for a few long heartbeats, what looked like sadness softening his eyes. “I got mine from someone who hated me enough to want me dead. Yours came from someone who supposedly loved you.”

  “Maybe we’re all misled.”

  “About what?”

  “About love. Maybe we’re so desperate for someone’s affections, we see a connection where there isn’t any.”

  “Maybe. But I think love’s possible. I think it’s out there for the right people.” Running a hand down her jawline, he tucked some escapees from her braid behind her ear. “My parents loved each other deeply. I saw it every day in the way they acted and talked to each other. Sometimes, it was as small as just a look between the two. But it was enough even a teenage boy would notice. After my father died, my mother became so heartbroken, she died not two months later.”

  “She died of a broken heart?”

  “Something like that.” He cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her.

  “I didn’t think it was possible.”

  “I’m starting to think it is.” He kissed her lightly, nudging her lips open, his tongue exploring.

  She didn’t want to read into his comment. She didn’t want things to become complicated. Hell, she didn’t want to admit they had already. She kissed him back, her tongue wrestling with his before she broke away, kissing down his chin. His shadow of a beard felt rough against her lips.

  Colby’s lips moved along his jaw, then her tongue ran a line down his neck, leaving a warm, moist trail.

  This was exactly what he needed after this afternoon’s incident—to get his mind off what might have happened to Colby. If he hadn’t been in the picture…

  Shit.

  She nipped at where his shoulder met his neck, and he leaned his head against the back of the couch, enjoying every second, giving her every opportunity to do what she wanted with him. He was all hers.

  She kissed, nipped, and licked here and there over his neck. She pushed his T-shirt up, exposing his chest to continue her teasing pattern over and around his nipples. He leaned forward, grabbed the back of his shirt, and ripped it over his head. He tossed it onto the recliner, covering that fucking folder. Once again, it reminded him of what might have, could have happened.

  But it hadn’t, and here they were: about to have a little bit of fun with each other. Or a whole hell of a lot of fun, if it was up to him.

  He lost his train of thought when she raked her nails lightly over his nipples.

  “Fuck.” He grabbed the end of her braid as she diligently rubbed and kissed all over his stomach and chest. Pulling the small elastic band off the end, he combed his fingers through the plait, untangling her hair from its confines. He worked his way up while she worked her way down, following the line of his dark hair to the top of his jeans. The button was already unfastened since he never finished securing his jeans after his shower earlier.

  He caught her studying him while she slowly unzipped his jeans. He probably looked as dumbfounded as he felt. He doubted any blood remained in his brain, it seemed it all headed south into his shaft.

  Colby sat back suddenly and gave him a stern look. “Take off your pants.” It wasn’t a request. Hell no, it wasn’t. “Now.”

  Damn, if he could get any harder than he already was…Impossible.

  He pushed to his feet and caught himself as he lost his balance. His thigh protested loudly. But he didn’t give a shit. Not tonight.

  Tomorrow, he would pay for it. But tonight, he’d get his money’s worth, even if he had to do PT twice a day for the next week.

  He pushed his jeans down to his knees before sitting back on the couch to yank them the rest of the way off, tossing them somewhere into the room. He had gone commando, skipping the boxer briefs tonight hoping to get lucky. So he sat there naked, his cock as erect as a flagpole. All he needed was the redheaded vixen in front of him to raise the flag.

  His flag raiser didn’t say a word. Her eyes had softened momentarily when he’d stumbled but had quickly gone back to stern. It reminded him of the first night he came home. He pictured her again like the school teacher: stern, prim, and proper on the outside, wild as hell on the inside.

  She pushed herself off the couch and moved to stand in between his open knees, not touching, though. She leveled her gaze at him—no smile, eyes serious. Her expression alone kept him from fisting his own aching cock.

  A moment later, she shook her head. Her hair flew wildly around her shoulders and down her back. She undid her jeans and slipped out of them, but he couldn’t tell if she wore any panties since her long, collared shirt hung halfway down her thighs. But, it was still sexy as hell.

  Damn, he wanted to fuck the shit out of her. But he didn’t reach out. Instead, he waited to see what her game was. The anticipation would kill him, but he loved it.

  She licked her lips, he
thought more out of nervousness than teasing. But when one hand started unbuttoning her shirt while the other went to her mouth, he questioned his own theory. She slid one finger between her lips, sucked on it, then slowly drew it back out.

  He didn’t know where to look: the finger she teased with her tongue or the ones working the buttons out of their confinement. Her shirt gaped enough now he could get a glimpse of a dark green bra, almost the same color as her eyes.

  He didn’t have to decide what to look at when she slid her wet finger down her gaping shirt and into her panties. He might not see it, but he sure could imagine it.

  That jolted him into wrapping a fist around his shaft, which was leaking already, the precum beading on the crown.

  Colby paused and gave a sharp “No.”

  Mace jerked at her tone, surprised it came from her, and automatically released his cock.

  Damn.

  But he would not complain. If she wanted all the control tonight, well, he wouldn’t fight it.

  She continued unbuttoning her shirt one-handed, and when the last one was released, her open shirt revealed enough he could see her other hand was definitely, definitely, down her panties. Which happen to be the same color and fabric as her bra, but he didn’t care about that. He only cared about what was happening beneath the green fabric. He could see her fingers moving, knuckles shifting, her wrist sliding under the cotton. She ran her free hand over her bra, pushing the shirt to the side more, giving him a better view. She threw her head back and gasped.

  Then her legs buckled. Before he could reach out to keep her from falling, she dropped to her knees and grasped his ankles, making him jump at the unexpected contact.

  She traced her fingers up both of his calves, past his bent knees and over his thighs, being careful of his injury. She moved herself closer, pressing in between his legs, while she slid her hands around his hips, over his clenched stomach, and lower, once again. Two fingers circled the root of his cock, and she squeezed.

  Mace pressed his lips together to keep from babbling like an idiot while his stomach clenched even harder, and his fingers dug into the couch cushion. One reason was he didn’t want to come. The other was to keep from dragging her up and over his lap to impale her deep.

  The two fingers circling his cock became her whole hand as she leaned over his lower body.

  Christ, nothing excited him more than seeing her fire-red hair in his lap. It brushed against his thighs, swept against his groin, and tickled his lower stomach. He might come if she kept brushing her hair against his cock. So silky—

  He sucked in a breath, and his hips rose off the couch when her hot little mouth enclosed over the head of his cock. Her tongue whisked away all of his precum, like a kitten lapping up cream. She took him all the way in, almost to the root. Her lips bumped against her own fist before sliding back up to the top, her tongue teasing the small slit for a moment before her hot, hot, hot mouth took almost his whole length again.

  Oh. Fuck. Me.

  When she shot him a look, he realized he might have said that out loud. Not even a moment later, she picked up a rhythm with her tongue and her lips, stroking his length while her fist squeezed his root.

  He leaned his head back and couldn’t watch; if he did, he might lose it. He didn’t have to see what she was doing. Hell no. The vision was burned in his brain. He would remember this for a long time.

  When her other hand gently cupped his balls and squeezed, his eyes flew open and he heard someone cry out. That someone was him.

  His brain became so addled, she could tell him to jump and he wouldn’t even ask her how high. He would do anything, anything, she told him to. Especially when she licked the head like a Tootsie Pop, trying to see how many licks it took to get to the center. He was either very tasty, or she was very hungry…

  Her steady rhythm down his length began again, and he couldn’t resist: he sank his fingers into her hair and began to thrust. His hips rose to meet her at every stroke. His fingers tightened in her hair, and he tensed, ready to blow his load. He needed release. His balls became so freaking tight, and it didn’t help she continued to play with them, squeeze them, roll them between her slender fingers.

  She pulled her head away and said, “No, I want you to come inside me.”

  She looked beautiful with her flushed cheeks and her glistening lips swollen. He would have been happy coming right where he was. But she decided to be the boss.

  And so she shall be.

  She climbed to her feet and stepped back from between his legs, just out of reach. Her shirt slid to the floor, and she stood, looking oh-so-edible in her matching green bra and panties. Panties that now appeared a little darker at the apex of her legs. And that made him smile.

  “I need help.”

  Mace lifted one eyebrow in question. He wanted it to look roguish, but the truth was, he couldn’t get any words past the lump in his throat.

  “I want you to take these off,” she said, turning away from him. She stepped back closer to him before lifting her hair up and out of the way.

  He ran his fingers over the smooth, fair skin of her back, along the edge of her shoulder straps before reaching for the clasp. He popped it open and let her bra fall away to the front.

  He ran his palms down her sides until he reached the top of her panties, then he slid his fingers under the edge of the elastic and around to the front, almost hugging her waist. With his hand back at her hips, he pushed them down. Slowly. His touch lingered here, there—over her hips, down her thighs, past her knees, until the green scrap of fabric dropped to her ankles. She lifted one foot out before kicking the panties away with the other.

  Still with her back to him, she crossed her arms over her breasts, her hair covering her back like a cape of fire. She couldn’t be shy now. She lost her inhibitions during sex, she didn’t get more. So she couldn’t be hiding herself from him.

  And, oh shit, she wasn’t.

  When she turned to face him, she kneaded her own breasts, plucking both nipples, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She worked one hand down her stomach, once again to the fiery patch below, and parted her pussy lips…

  “Don’t—” he blurted out, making her pause. “Oh, fuck, don’t,” he groaned and then cursed himself.

  “You don’t like?”

  “Oh, no, I like. I like a lot. But I will end up losing it all over myself.”

  “Scoot back.”

  He did. He pressed himself to the back of the couch and offered his hands to her. She accepted and used his arms for balance while she climbed over him, placing a knee on each side of his hips. He caught a whiff of her scent, hot and musky and so freaking female. He wanted to bury his face between her legs and taste her. But that wasn’t how it would go tonight. Tonight, she was in charge.

  She lingered above him, putting her weight on her shins. She was so far above him. Too far. She needed to be closer. Much closer.

  “Condom?” he squeaked. He held onto her upper arms, making sure she didn’t lower herself yet. Not until some important business was taken care of first.

  “I have it covered.”

  “Okay, uh…”

  Colby leaned forward and placed her lips by his ear, whispering, “I’ve been on birth control, but I wasn’t sure before…Now, I am. I want just you, only you, inside me, nothing in between us.”

  Mace groaned in anticipation; it sounded like a good plan to him. What a great fucking plan. The best he’d ever heard. His cock jerked, and it brushed against her damp curls, which made him thrust his hips up in response.

  Colby laughed huskily. “Down, boy.”

  Bracing a hand against his chest for balance, she grabbed his shaft with the other, rubbing it against her slit, making it even slicker, if possible. She lined it up in perfect position, and he was ready, so ready to send it home.

  She made small circles with her hips, lowering herself. She’d go down one inch, come back up until only the tip entered her, go down two inche
s, and come back up. Then down three inches before coming back up, all the while keeping her inner muscles tight and circling her hips.

  He was going to pass out. Any second now, he would just drop over dead. With the biggest fucking grin on his face, too.

  When she finally sank down on him, swallowing him whole, he lost his train of thought. He wrapped his arms around her back and held her there. She ground circles against his lap, and he pressed his face between her breasts, air hissing from his lungs. He struggled to catch his breath when she rocked against him, letting out little mews and gasps. Her sounds vibrated through her chest against his cheek as he nuzzled her chest, moving until he caught a nipple in his mouth, drawing down on the tight, hard nub. The faster she rocked, the harder he sucked.

  Suddenly, her movements became frantic, and within seconds, she stiffened, clenching her inner muscles around him and letting out a long wail. He thrust up and felt the heat rolling through him. He released himself deep within her, his cock jerking along with her orgasm.

  He thanked his lucky stars that she came so quickly. Because he wouldn’t have held out much longer.

  When Colby collapsed against his chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing. “Wow,” she whispered into his hair.

  He chuckled. “Ditto.” Nuzzling her neck, he kissed along her damp skin.

  She said, “I need to get off your leg.” Though she made no effort to do so.

  “No. You’re fine. I don’t want you to move.” His leg only spasmed slightly. It would settle down soon.

  The phone rang, making Colby jerk against him. She eyed the phone worriedly. “How about now?”

  “Still fine.” He stretched over and plucked the cordless phone from the side table. “Hello?” Silence greeted him. He tried one more time. “Hello?” A soft laughter answered him before he heard a click and the dial tone. Mace’s stomach dropped.

  He pushed the “End” button on the phone and slammed it on the tabletop. “Well, we now know who wasn’t making those calls.”