by A. J. Downey
Cutter tugged gently on my tee and I let him take it. He whisked his own off from over his head and I took the time to really look at him, not just the chiseled, lean muscles and tan skin, but also at his tattoos. I trailed fingertips lightly down his ribs over the bright rendition of a pirate ship in full sail. He skirted to the side and laughed and it was one of the sexiest sounds I’d heard him make yet. His laughter lightened my mood just enough to keep the weight of it from pressing the air from my lungs completely.
I touched the scar where I was pretty sure he’d taken a bullet in front, just off to the side of the pirate ship and felt a pang of sorrow for him. I glanced up into his face, where he looked down at me, watching me, tranquil and impassive. He was letting me explore and I bet if I asked him, he would tell me the truth of it.
He must have seen the question in my eyes because he smiled with a hint of sadness at the memory and spoke it into air conditioned hush hanging between us.
“Got me just right, a gap in the body armor,” he murmured and pressed my hand to his back and the scar of an exit wound, much bigger out the back, “Damn near lost the kidney but the docs, they saved it somehow. I was lucky.”
“I was hit once too,” I murmured, “Body armor did its job. I was the lucky one, just bruised all to hell for a really long time. Hit so hard I thought it’d bruised my soul…” I smiled but it was a bitter, broken thing.
“Was in transit, wasn’t even in a declared hot zone. Had just finished training a unit of Iraqi men for their police. They didn’t want to listen to me, of course… They were more inclined to listen after that firefight. Only one I’ve ever been in. My friend, mentor, Andres… he didn’t make it. He took one to the face.” I bowed my head. I hadn’t told anyone but the councilors and the superiors who’d I’d had to debrief about the incident after the fact. Cutter pulled me into him and kissed me again, a finer, gentler thing filled with our mutual sorrow and regret.
I’d never been with someone who had been there, either. Who knew just what it was to go through something like that, to lose someone dear in the blink of an eye… The kiss deepened and Cutter’s hands traveled to my ass urging me to jump up, to wend my legs around his hips. I took the invitation. I loved how he’d so easily fucked me against the wall earlier. I was a real fan of down, dirty sex, when the situation called for it, but this time, I don’t know… this time called for something else.
He took me to the bed, and laid me down gently, tapping the outside of my thigh to indicate I needed to let him go. Which, duh, too much in the way of pants and boots to properly get it on this way. He surprised me though, kissing down my neck, down my body, leaving blooms of heat and desire in the wake of the seeds he planted with gentle touches of his lips. He straightened and put one thigh forward. My legs hung off the bed from the knee down and with his gaze firmly fixed on mine he lifted one and planted the sole of my boot against his thigh.
With a gentle smile curving his lips he dragged his eyes down my body leaving a heated blush across my skin wherever his gaze fell before he carefully worked the knots in my laces free, deliberately taking his time, easing them through the eyelets until the leather casing had loosened enough to easily slip my foot free.
He set the boot neatly at the foot of the bed and with a devilish little grin, stripped me of my sock and pressed thumbs to the center of my arch on the underside of my foot. I fell back flat against the cheap mattress and bedspread and groaned my appreciation. That felt so good, and the more he kneaded and rubbed the more I sank back into the bed and a relaxed state of bliss. Bastard! He sure had my number. He finished with the first foot and repeated the process with the second and I became putty in his hands. There was no denying it. Cutter had some smooth fucking moves, and I was down to let him try every last one of them on me.
“Help me out, Sweetheart,” he whispered and I smiled at him, he had his fingers hooked into the waistband of my black cargo pants, and had already made quick work of the belt and button fly. I arched my hips and he drew them off, down my legs, and the look in his eyes as they trailed over the skin revealed by the black cloth heated my blood to a pleasant simmer.
I lay in bra and panties and he ordered me, voice roughened by sex and need, “Scoot up, lay on your stomach.”
I did what he wanted and he unhooked my bra, I took my arms from the straps and he whisked it away as I settled back down onto my stomach.
“Don’t move,” he ordered and I had no intentions of it. Rather I lay, head turned to one side and closed my eyes. I had a feeling that the foot rub was just a preview of coming attractions and I was right. After a moment of him rooting through his saddle bags he came back to me. He stripped my panties down my legs and straddled the backs of my thighs, the hair on his legs prickling my skin. I smiled. He’d lost his jeans. I liked that, I liked that a lot.
I hummed in deep pleasure as his hands, coated in oil; caressed my back, lightly at first before he started really digging in, finding those nodes of knotted muscle and easing them free with gentle and consistent pressure. He chuckled as I absolutely melted underneath him, the tension easing out of my body degree by degree until I was all but boneless beneath him.
“What’d you think about what went on back at the club?” he asked softly.
“What, about the chick getting drilled in the ass?”
He laughed out loud, “I like how you just let it all hang out.”
“Do I look like Willy Wonka to you?” he laughed again and god it was sexy. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little too.
“Uh, that would be a no, why?”
“Because unlike that bitch I don’t sugar coat nothin’,” I said.
“Look at you all west coast gangsta.” I could hear the smile in his voice and his hands hadn’t quit their kneading so I knew I was on safe ground. God it was hot that he would play with me and that he would laugh at my crude jokes and didn’t seem to want me any less. Still saw me as a woman, as a lady…
“You going to answer the question?” he asked with a playful little slap to my ass, which made me arch my hips and ass off the bed.
“Not my scene, not without careful attention and a lot of lube,” I said quietly. My pussy was tingling with want and I was already wet. I could feel my nipples tighten, and grow sensitive against the rough cover of the bedspread beneath me. Truthfully, the thought of Cutter there turned me the fuck on. It turned me on even more when I felt his cock stir against my ass.
“Good to know, I’m going to leave that for another time, another day, right now I want you to turn over.”
God I love how his voice held that pleasant edge, like he were talking about something as mundane as the weather, even as it held that razor’s slice of command, so sharp, so stark and there it was hard not to cut yourself on it for real. I turned over and he got between my thighs. I arched ready to take him in but instead he grabbed me and dragged me to the bottom of the mattress again, almost to the point my ass was hanging off.
I put my toes against the carpet as he knelt between my knees, gazing up my body deliberately. His expression stoic, eyes liquid, dark and deep with lust and heavier things as he let my anticipation build to feverish heights.
“You like having your pussy licked?” he asked and his voice was a barely there growl. I swallowed hard.
“Oh yeah,” I agreed and nodded.
“Good, I could go down on a woman for hours if she’d let me,” he said and lowered his face, agonizingly slow before licking a long, deliberate wet line from my opening to my clit. I fell back against the mattress and let him do whatever he wanted. Holy mother of god that felt good.
“No argument’s here, you can go as long as you’d like,” I said and tangled my fingers in the cheap bedspread to either side of my hips. I moaned and writhed provocatively, I couldn’t help it. Cutter’s mouth was… wow.
He slid two fingers inside of me, stretching and filling me, searching out that spot and oh god, oh god, oh god, I couldn’t help the cry that
spilled from my throat as I rippled around his fingers and came undone. He chuckled against my clit and the vibration of it was almost too much, I jerked and his forearm braced across my hips, flattening me to the bed.
Holy hell, he provided way more than a distraction. He made me come so many times with his mouth I lost count. I was a puddle of Hope in the middle of his bed when he finally got around to ordering me up into the center of it. It took me way more tries than it should have for me to comply and the heat index went up by like a million degrees as I watched him stand there, stroking himself with sure fingers while he waited for me to fulfill his demand. I reached for him once I was settled and he came to me gladly, his smile feral and possessive and giving me an all new thrill as he covered my body with his own.
His hair curtained our faces and the world was suddenly shrouded, the diffuse light from the bedside lamp muted even further, the warmth of him against me, caged by his body… it was magical. So perfect and incredibly intimate. I wanted to stay here forever. I closed my eyes and breathed in his salty ocean smell underlying his light layering of Old Spice cologne and found bliss.
“I’ve got you, Sweetness,” he breathed and I dragged his face to mine. I kissed him deeply, my heart crying out with relief that I had finally found a man who got me, who connected with me on that deep sublevel, who was so finely in tune with me.
He eased into me slowly, carefully, this time and it felt so incredibly good. I moaned into his mouth and he cradled me so gently in his embrace. His body met mine and filled me to the brim and I sighed out in purest satisfaction. He moved slow and deliberate, his eyes drifting shut and I don’t know how long we lay in a tangle of limbs, bodies joined, moving in rhythm and synchronized beyond reason. We were drunk off each other and the communication of purest emotions through touch and glance, kiss and caress.
It was probably one of the most beautiful, sharing, joining… Hell I needed to call it what it was! It was probably one of the first times ever that I made love with a man, not just to him. It was exquisite and perfect and scared the bejesus out of me all at once. It left me breathless with wonder and my chest tight with wanting, for the first time I could ever remember, I allowed myself to want for myself. I wanted to stay like this in Cutter’s arms forever and never have him let me go. I wanted to see where this went, I wanted so much to have a partner in this life instead of going it alone like I had been all this time.
“Stay with me…” I said and swallowed hard, not quite believing I had voiced the plea out loud.
“Hmm, you’ve got me dead to rights, Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured and brought the back of my hand to his lips. I had no idea how long we had been at this but I never wanted it to end. I was aware that our skins were lightly dewed with sweat; that our breathing came harsh and uneven and that Cutter’s other arm, where he held himself off from crushing me, well it trembled finely with exertion.
“No, I mean after… after all of this, stay with me,” I swallowed past the lump in my throat and Cutter smiled so sweetly, so serenely down at me. He pressed into me to the hilt and captured my eyes with his.
“Baby, I just told you, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out, one day, one minute at a time if we have to… I’m with you. I’m staying with you.” He bowed his head and kissed me into silence and tranquility.
God I was falling in love with this man. I was falling in love with him hard. It started with his confidence and carried on through his steady dedication. He was trustworthy. Incredibly so. He turned me on and turned me inside out and he just seemed to know what I was about or what I needed sometimes before even I did. I wanted to stay. I wanted to try. I had never even come close to wanting anyone else the way I wanted Cutter and as much as that scared me, as much as that terrified me because I was putting myself out there… I couldn’t deny this attraction was turning into something much stronger.
I swallowed hard and came again and Cutter hummed his appreciation, he slowed in his careful love making and stilled. Holding me close and I sighed out and took the comfort and strength he offered me. We lay, panting in the circle of each other’s arms for some time before he drew back and searched my face.
“I mean it, Sweetheart. You’ve got me.” He whispered, reassuring, and kissed me one more time. We didn’t even try to get up or clean up, that could be done come morning. Instead we lay close and warm and safe and slept. I woke, vaguely, sometime in the night when Cutter reached for and switched out the lamp, but he came right back to me, pulling the blankets around us both. I slept solid and I slept hard after that and it was precisely what I needed.
Chapter 22
Cutter
“Seriously… I hate you guys,” Hope mumbled against my chest when the door flew open the next day.
“Love you too, Baby. Now get your asses up!” Pyro barked and ripped open the curtains over the window, flooding the room with bright, late morning sunlight.
“Dude, what the fuck?” I demanded.
“Ruth called, wants a sit down and is offering real fucking food as a peace offering for the hour.” Marlin said, stretching in the doorway. The boys started pouring in after him and leaning against furniture and doorways, taking up seating space in the one armchair and on the sink counter.
“We having church?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Beast said crossing his massive arms over his chest.
“You forget the civilian in the room?” I asked.
“Pfft! The way Hope handles herself, she ain’t no civilian. She ain’t no ol’ lady either, we don’t know what she is but whatever it is we like her,” Atlas declared. I raised an eyebrow and Hope cuddled into my side more, resting her head on my shoulder.
“You’re right, I’m not old, so thanks for that… or are you just saying that so I won’t kick your ass? Wait…” she pushed up and glared at Atlas blearily, “What the fuck is an ol’ lady to you douchecanoe’s anyways?”
The guys laughed, “You’re learning,” Pyro said appreciatively.
“An Ol’ Lady as in you’re my Ol’ Lady, my property, mine to keep and before you get all butt-twisted,” I chuckled at her sour expression, “It’s a pretty big honorific among our kind.”
“It’s true. Means more to a brother than a civilian wedding ring to give a woman your rag,” Radar agreed.
Hope squeezed her eyes shut and clutching the sheet to her chest, struggled to sit up. She opened her eyes and yawned.
“I’m going to need a cup of coffee and a glossary of terms to get through today aren’t I?” she asked.
“No time like the present for a crash course,” Marlin said with a shrug but I could see in his sky blue eyes that he was happy for me.
“Okay, so this is how it goes…” My brothers proceeded to blow Hope’s mind explaining the ins and outs of a woman’s place in the club.
“Wait, wait, wait… so a rag isn’t actually a rag, it’s one of those leather vests like you got only says that a woman is property of whoever she’s with?”
“Pretty much but before you get pissed, you gotta understand. For us, property isn’t like just a car, or a boat, or a piece of land… it’s much more basic than that. Property, to us, is something of value. As in something we value above all else,” I told her. I watched her wheels turn, her dark eyes searching my face before she started to nod slowly. Pyro stooped and picked up my shirt from the night before and held it out to Hope. She took it and I had to like how comfortable she was in her own skin to be sitting here naked with a room full of my brothers and not be freaking out.
That wasn’t to say she was being immodest either. She had the sheet covering everything important and then some, even as she pulled my shirt over her head she was careful not to let it slip. Fucking perfect mix of tough and feminine, of being ballsy yet having grace. She was tripping all the right triggers for me and I was so incredibly struck with just how grateful I was that she wanted to stick around.
Hope dragged her long dark hair out of the
back of the collar of my shirt and sighed, “Coffee before I kick someone’s ass,” she said just as Trike, our prospect, pushed through the open doorway with two of those cardboard drink holders perched on one arm, a bag of what smelled suspiciously like doughnuts hanging out of his hand.
“Thank you, Jesus! Trike, you’re now officially my favorite,” Hope said and reached out both hands, opening and closing her hands in the classic toddler sign for ‘gimme’. The guys laughed and they fed and caffeinated her first. I smiled and took a drink of nasty tepid doughnut shop coffee that’d sat on the burner too long out of a crappy Styrofoam cup.
“I didn’t think they made Styrofoam anymore,” I griped.
“Me either,” someone said.
We put down some coffee and munched on fried dough while Hope’s crash course continued. Her mind sufficiently full and turning things over, she sat for a long minute in silence.
“Kay, get the fuck out. I’m getting up,” she said finally and waved them all off. The guys laughed and stepped out into the bright sunshine, leaving the door open a sliver behind them.
“Kiss me,” I demanded and she smiled, leaning across the bed. She put her arms against my chest and fell into me, and kissed me with what tasted a lot like commitment underneath the stale coffee and sugary sweetness of the half assed breakfast we’d just consumed.
“I love it when you order me around like you’re all tough,” her voice was pitched low and if I had to describe it, ‘sex kitten’ came to mind as a perfectly acceptable label to put on it. I smacked the outside of her thigh.
“Get in the shower, Hope; before I fuck you and we don’t go anywhere today,” she grinned and backed off of me, stopping in the bathroom doorway.
“Damn, and I was hoping you were going to join me,” she said and she didn’t have to invite me twice. I was up and under the spray before she got my shirt off over her head.