Zero Tolerance

by Lynn Burke

  Micah finally turned, the fire in his eyes catching my breath. His hands fisted at his sides. “I want you so bad, it hurts,” he whispered.

  My gaze dropped to the huge bulge in his jeans. I wanted to see him. Touch him. Taste him. Heart beat thundering in my ears, I licked my lips while trying to tell him what I wanted. “Can I … touch you?”

  He unzipped his jeans and reached in, pulling out the thickest cock I’d ever seen. My pussy clenched at the thought of him burying his long length deep inside of me like I’d dreamed about.

  Squeezing, he slid his hand down to the base and pointed his cock at me.

  Unable to look away from the pearl of pre-cum glistening on its tip, I stepped closer, trusting him to keep his word.

  With the pad of my thumb, I rubbed the slippery liquid down the front of his cock and closed my fingers around the other side. Hot. Hard, yet silky soft. I tightened my grip and slid back up to the mushroom head.

  He groaned, flooding my pussy with wetness.

  “That feels so damn good, Jasmine,” he groaned. “God, do I love your touch.”

  I slid my hand back down his length until my pinkie brushed his fingers still clutching the base. Back up again to smear through the moisture gathering at the tip again, and another slick slide down.

  “Fuck.”

  Tearing my gaze off his cock, I lifted my head. The heat in his gaze sent another rush of fire through me, and I pressed my thighs together. “Am I hurting you?”

  His strained smile didn’t reassure me. “Only in the best way possible.”

  I squeezed again and slid my hand down.

  The muscle in his jaw ticked, and I imagined he wanted to kiss me. Maybe even fuck me right there on the kitchen island. But, he wouldn’t—unless I asked him to.

  “Can I kiss you?” I whispered, my attention dropping to his lips.

  Micah nodded and slumped onto a stool, releasing his cock completely into my hold.

  I stepped between his legs, and he grasped his knees, gaze on my eyes.

  Do it, I told myself, and leaned forward, closing my eyes. Our noses brushed first, and I breathed in his sweet breath, pressing my lips to his.

  He didn’t respond, but sat still as stone.

  Not a lick of anxiety…

  “Kiss me back, Micah,” I whispered against his lips and squeezed his cock jutting up from his jeans.

  His lips moved against mine gently but firm, weakening my knees.

  I smoothed more pre-cum down his length, and Micah groaned into my mouth, flicking his tongue along my lips.

  The light touch startled me, but I didn’t pull back. I opened, letting him in, tasting his tongue. I lost myself in exploring his mouth, the firm, yet soft press of his lips moving over mine, the shared breaths and quiet moans.

  His cock jumped in my hand, and I squeezed again, pulling on his length while sliding my hand back up and over the head.

  He leaned back and lowered his gaze. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come all over your hand.”

  “I want you to,” I murmured, mesmerized by the feel and sight of his cock moving in my hand.

  He thrust his hips in time with my hand. “Faster.”

  I caught on to move with his hips, his groans and quiet curses spurring me on.

  “Your hand feels fucking amazing, Jasmine. So damn good. I’m going to come.”

  “Yes,” I whispered, gaze glued to the swelling head in my hand.

  “Aw, fuck!”

  White cum arched from the mushroom head, landing on my forearm. I hadn’t realized I’d moved so close, my hips pressing against the inside of his thighs as he jerked and squirted shot after shot onto his jeans, my hand, and his shirt.

  I lifted my head to find him staring at me. Desire slammed into me, and I kissed him, milking him until he closed his hand over mine, keeping me still.

  Our kissing slowed, and Micah backed off, gently holding my hand wrapped around his softening cock. “I want to touch you so bad.”

  Although desire swirled through me, I hesitated. We’d gone so far … I’d kissed a man and jerked him off, and I feared the after effects. Nervous laughter bubbled up. “I-I want you to, but I’m afraid.”

  “Then I won’t.” He peered at me with those beautiful, warm hazel eyes I wanted to sink into. “I think you’ve made amazing progress in the last fifteen minutes.”

  I giggled again.

  “Let’s get cleaned up and just hang out for a while.”

  Nodding, I moved back and released my hold on his cock. The loss of his closeness sent a shiver through me. I liked being close to him … as long as I was in control.

  Chapter Eleven

  Micah

  I didn’t want to make any mistakes with Jasmine, but not touching her killed me. Sure, I got off, but I wanted to make her feel good. I wanted to please her and bring her pleasure she’d never experienced before. If given the chance to show her what a loving touch felt like, I felt sure healing would happen faster.

  Jasmine sat in the middle of the couch, and I settled in one corner, laying my arm over the back without touching her. She scooted closer, almost brushing against my side.

  “I think I have a new favorite pastime,” she murmured, staring at my lips.

  I smirked. “You’re welcome to kiss me whenever you want.”

  “Off the clock.”

  “As long as we’re in agreement we both want this, then it won’t be inappropriate.”

  “This?” She lifted her gaze to my eyes.

  I opened my mouth but shut it again, wondering how the hell to put into words what I felt for her. Lust? Protectiveness? Friendship didn’t begin to put a dent in the truth of the connection I felt with her. I wondered if she felt the same, or if I was simply a guy she found attractive enough to test herself with. Once able to move on with her life, would I even be a part of it?

  “Well, what I’m feeling for you is much more than mere friendliness,” I finally said. “I care about you. I want you to heal completely and live life to the fullest. I also want to be a part of that life.”

  Her brow shot up and her head tilted to the side.

  God, did I want to kiss her.

  “But,” I continued before she could speak, “if you’re using me just to test yourself, I’m available for that, too. Your needs are more important to me than my own.”

  Her lips parted, and I filled my lungs with her flowery perfume as she moved onto me. Already given the green light on kissing, I responded once she initiated contact.

  Jasmine had told me in detail what the foster asshole had done to her, and I didn’t want to do anything that would remind her of his touch, including thrusting my tongue between her lips with force.

  I wanted to devour her mouth, take everything she had to offer, but contented myself with gentleness. Lips brushing, tongues tasting in a slow, languid dance that swelled my cock back to life.

  She leaned against me, her soft breasts pressing against me, her hand on my chest. Both of us breathed heavy when she finally pulled back.

  “I want you to touch me.”

  I didn’t need a second offering. Slowly, I placed my hand over the one she still held to my chest.

  She didn’t shy away, but simply stared up at me as I wrapped my hand around hers.

  “You trust me?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know what a safeword is?”

  She nodded.

  “Green means go, yellow mean you’re not sure and want a break, red means stop. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  I slid off the couch and pulled her to her feet. She clasped my hand as I led her across the living room toward my bedroom.

  The asshole foster kid had gone into her bedroom late at night. She’d told me that memories of his looming over her, groping hands, and probing fingers brought on panic attacks. She still slept with a bright night light.

  Her steps slowed as we entered my bedroom, but I slid the dimmer up to full,
lighting every corner of the room. She eyed the bed and lifted her gaze to me.

  “We’re going to snuggle,” I said.

  Shoulders relaxing, she smiled, her pale green eyes twinkling. “I haven’t snuggled since I was a little girl on my mom’s lap.”

  “Come on.” I let go of her hand, kicked off my shoes, and lay down on my side in the middle of the bed. No looming, no planking over her lush body, no dominant words or actions … just good old fashioned spooning—or as close as she wanted to get.

  She slipped out of her flip flops and climbed up beside me, keeping a foot or so of space between us, tucking her hands beneath a pillow. A lock of blonde hair slid down over her cheek.

  I moved slowly, my fingertip brushing her cheek while tucking the hair behind her ear.

  Her chest swelled with a sigh as her smile widened.

  “Color?” I asked.

  “Green.”

  Just like in her dreams, I told myself, my fingers lowering to her bare arm. Gentle caresses up her forearm led me to the crook of her bent elbow to her shoulder. I traced around her collarbone, lingering as she had done when showing me what she dreamed.

  Up her neck toward her ear, down her jawline. I brushed my thumb over her parted lips.

  Black pupils dominated the green of her eyes. No fear, no anxiety shone from her gaze as she stared at me.

  My cock throbbed, but I held on to my self-control, trailing my fingers back down her neck and feathering over the swell of her breasts. She shivered and slid her top arm down to lay over her hip, giving me access. Her nipples hardened beneath the tank top, and I rubbed my thumb over first one then the other.

  Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.

  “Okay?” I asked again.

  Lower lip between her teeth, she nodded. “Please don’t stop.”

  She’d told me that I didn’t touch her gently in her dreams, but I wasn’t about to fuck up the chance to feel her soft skin beneath my hands.

  I toyed with the hem of her tank top for a few seconds without breaking our stare.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  She shivered again as my fingertips touched her bare stomach. I inched my way up her torso, stretching her tank top up and over her bra-covered breasts pressed together from her position. Sliding my fingers over the tops of her satiny-soft breasts parted her lips again. The pulse in her neck jumped.

  I slipped a thumb beneath her bra and brushed the pad over her hard nipple.

  “Oh…” She closed her eyes and arched into my touch. “M-more. Please.”

  Although I wanted to sit up and yank her top off, feasting first my eyes then my mouth on her pert breasts, I gently tugged the material higher. Jasmine wiggled, swore, and pulled the shirt off overhead.

  White cotton held her breasts high and plump. My fucking mouth watered, my gaze glued to the dark pink of her nipples showing through.

  I trailed my fingertips over the tops again, down her cleavage, feathering across one hard nipple.

  She moaned and licked her lips, and I decided to do the testing.

  Slithering like a ninja, I slid down a good two feet, putting my face in line with her chest. Still laying on my side, I lifted her bra above her breasts, freeing them.

  Large nipples, pink and contracted, begged for my lips. My tongue and teeth.

  I palmed a breast and leaned in, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. Brushing my lips over her nipple arched her into me again, and I closed my mouth over one.

  “Oh, God,” she groaned, threading her fingers in my hair and holding me close.

  Heaven…

  Keeping my touch soft, I drove us both fucking insane, suckling, gently nibbling. Jasmine gasped and moaned, pressing the length of her body against mine. Her hips moved against me, as needy as the noises coming from her mouth.

  I touched her knee and slowly inched my fingers upward to the hem of her skirt and down again to the back of her knee. A slight tug, and she lifted her leg, her thigh resting over my waist, her skirt riding to her waist.

  Kissing along her breasts and neck, I slid my hand between us, my fingertips feathering over the lace of her soaked panties.

  “Color, Jasmine?” I murmured against the side of her warm breast while gently rubbing her distended clit through her panties.

  “So green,” she moaned, jerking my cock.

  I groaned and suckled on her nipple again, following exactly how she’d shown me. Fingertip along the edge of her panties, slip beneath, up over her soaked slit to her clit.

  The asshole had shoved his fingers inside of her, so I kept my hand high, drawing wet circles around her clit as she pulled on my hair, hips gyrating.

  “Please, Micah.” She panted for breath, her chest heaving in my face. “I-I need more.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I murmured.

  “Put your fingers inside of me.”

  Don’t need to tell me twice. I slid my finger back down her slit, rimming the quivering hole of her pussy and nibbled her nipple.

  “Please…” She thrust her hips into my hand, and I pressed an inch into her tight sheath before pulling back out. “Don’t stop. Please.”

  Hot and slick, her pussy clenched on my finger as I pressed in again, and she wrapped her lower leg around my back.

  Fucking tight. Goddamnit. I clenched my eyes shut, needing to squeeze my fucking balls.

  She writhed against me as I slow-fucked her with a single finger. I rubbed my thumb over her clit and she convulsed, nails digging into my scalp. “Micah! O-oh!”

  I kept my finger moving slowly, in to the third knuckle and retreating as her pussy spasmed, trying to pull me deeper. Once she quieted, I slipped my hand from between her thighs. The second she released her hold on my head and slumped, chest heaving, I lifted my hand to my face.

  Her creamy cum coated my finger.

  Sated green eyes peered down at me, and I held her gaze, flicking out my tongue up one side of my finger and down the other.

  I made a rumbling noise in my chest as her tang coated my mouth. “Fuck, do you taste good.”

  She swallowed and stared at me as I licked my finger clean.

  My balls ached like a motherfucker, and my cock dug into the zipper. I ninja-slid back up so our heads lay on the same pillow and I settled my hand on my hip, above where her knee still rested on me. “As good as your dreams?”

  “A thousand times better.” A deep sigh pressed her chest against me, and she brushed her lips over mine. “My new favorite pastime,” she murmured, pulling back and settling her gaze on my eyes again.

  A smirk lifted the corner of my lips. “Like I said, I’m always available.”

  She smiled and ran her fingers along my jaw. “I think I might be addicted to you, Micah Fox.”

  “I’m a good addiction to have.”

  A giggle puffed her breath across my lips, and I leaned in to kiss her. Slow and gentle while I wanted to devour.

  We’ll get there, I told myself a few minutes later as she actually snuggled against me, her face in my neck.

  Fucking heaven.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jasmine

  The damn hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when I got home again. I scanned the area before unlocking my car and climbing out—nothing. Then again, darkness had fallen, and the streetlights cast plenty of shadows to hide behind.

  My heart thumped, but I hurried inside the dark house, locking up behind me. The youngest of three girls and the only one still living at home, I ended up alone a lot on Friday nights. Mom and Dad’s date night.

  I grabbed a glass of water, went upstairs to my room, and texted Dina.

  I know you don’t think I should get involved with Micah, but he’s the most decent man I’ve ever met.

  The phone rang just like I’d expected.

  “Got something more to tell me?” Dina said instead of a greeting.

  “Maybe.”

  She sighed. “Please just be careful,” she said, so
unding resigned. “I’d hate for you to have another breakdown.”

  “I’m not going to.” I flopped on my bed and smiled at the ceiling. “I touched him, Dina. He sat still as a stone, holding to his promise not to touch me unless I asked him to.” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “His shoulders are so broad. His hair is silky soft,” I murmured, remembering the heat of him beneath my hands.

  “Did you ask him to touch you?”

  I hesitated a few seconds, but Dina was my big sister—the only other confidant besides Liz and Mom. “I kissed him.” Dina didn’t say a word, and I hurried on. “I’ve made huge steps in getting better. I kissed him and didn’t feel a trace of anxiety. Not a trace!”

  Sudden tears clogged my throat. “He hasn’t taken advantage of my forwardness, either. I’ll be careful, I promise, but I’m not stopping.”

  “Jaz—”

  “No. I’m going forward if he’s willing, as far as I can test my limits. I want to be able to hold my escort’s arm and dance at your wedding next month. I want to enjoy myself in public like I used to when I was little. You don’t know what it’s like to want to fold in on yourself whenever a man gets too close.”

  “You’re right.”

  I could imagine Dina’s soft smile.

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’ll take a broken heart if it means I can touch a guy without losing my shit.”

  “Broken hearts suck.”

  I snorted. “Can’t be as bad as what I’ve been dealing with for over twelve years.”

  “Again, you’re probably right. Love you, Jaz.”

  “Love you, too, Sis.”

  ****

  I woke with a start, my heart pounding as I scrambled to sit. The nightlight I couldn’t sleep without shone brightly, allowing me to see into every corner of my bedroom as I jerked my head around, scanning for the face I’d seen in my nightmare.

  Hand to my chest, I breathed in while counting. Breathed out through my parted lips.

  It’s nothing. Just a dream.

  I lay back down, still rubbing at my chest and the knot of anxiety threatening to expand and squeeze.

  I hadn’t dreamed about the asshole for over a year. What had brought the shit back to my subconscious that I would dream about his fat fingers probing deep inside of me?