“Just think about it!”
“Shut up and stay out of my way, Evie!”
Freaking toad.
***
Blaze
“Mother of God,” I mutter for the hundredth time as Evie flits around the living room, bonding and chatting with Gus, as he wires her windows and keeps rambling at her, explaining what each of the new additions does.
The woman dressed herself in a pair of short, short short-shorts, a floaty top, and these heeled sandal things that wrap around her legs from ankle to just halfway to her knees.
She looks like a hot, modern-day gladiator, even with her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and a severe bun, tight enough that not one black-brown tress is free.
I’ve been hard since she opened her mouth about mutual pleasuring this morning, and it’s only gotten worse as the morning wore on. I am currently trying like a bastard not to notice the way her shorts rise over the silky backs of her thighs when she bends, or the fact that her shorts are stretched tightly against her sex, the slight puffiness just peeking through her thighs.
The sight has me lathering, foaming at the fucking mouth to crawl over there and bury my face into her from behind. Just for a smell and the feel of her heat against my cheeks.
Of course, then I’d possibly want to rip those little cock teasers off or down to her ankles so that I could feel her naked sex against me, and then, yeah, I’d probably start eating her from behind and not stop till she’s screaming and riding my face…
Stop it! Do not go there, Blaze, I warn, checking the wiring I just laid and concealed against the edge of the floorboards.
Her words keep eating at me though. I have five days, five measly days with her before I have to hand her over to Jericho and, once there, I won’t have a hope in hell of getting to her.
I’ll never know what she would look like spread out on her back, her thighs spread and open, her every crease and crevice displayed and waiting for me.
I’ll never know the sight of her tied down, my restraints holding her at my mercy. I’ll never have the chance to suck her nipples till she comes and screams out in ecstasy.
Never know the feeling of my lubed-up dick surrounded by all the plump perfection of those breasts.
Just the thought of having her at my mercy, her skin covered in me, my cum and hers, has my dick pounding so hard behind my fly it hurts like hell. The truth about me, something I’ve avoided for years since my ex deemed me a perverted animal, is that I am an animal in bed.
I like control and a partner who is open and unable to do anything but take what I give her. I like to completely own a woman from her mouth all the way to the pink folds of her sex.
My kink or perversion as that bitch once told me, is to have marathon sex where I get to taste, touch, and control every inch of a woman. I like owning her flesh and, even more, I like covering her in all of me—sweat, saliva, and cum.
I once reveled in it, and even more reveled in just the act of taking, taking, taking while I make her scream out in wonder. With Evie, I have the very unsettling feeling that she’ll take it all and ask for more, and that is the problem I can’t seem to get past.
I’ve worked hard to stifle my urges and just straight up fuck. I don’t wallow in sex as I once used to because the very idea of getting personal enough with a woman to unleash myself scares me to death.
Do I miss it? Hell yeah. I have a high sex drive, and hours of sex is what I need, but hours also hints at me doing more than satisfying an urge. It would be me, open and vulnerable, giving a part of myself that is too raw to risk on a woman.
I want to though. God knows, the thought of Evie tied down and at my mercy turns me on so much it makes my dick cry for mercy.
I know just how I would do it too, since her boobs are the holy grail of mammary heaven. I’d suck her there to the point of pain, to that place where she can’t do anything but feel and beg for mercy.
I wouldn’t let her come from it though, no, I’d want her so needy she’d soak the sheets and scream at me, beg, writhe for me. Then I’d use all those juices to wet my shaft and I’d kneel over her and make her watch as I wrapped her around me while pinching her nipples.
Just the thought is enough to make me leak into my briefs, and I muffle a groan at the erotic image playing through my mind. In my fantasy, Evie is so hot for me she’d lean up and suck at my tip on every thrust, her mewling cries vibrating through my flesh.
I’d offload on her chest though and deny her my taste, feeding my cum to her instead while she begs me for more.
Then I’d take her. My taste of her would come later when my cream is inside her, mixed with hers because, yeah, that’s another thing that gets me off, eating a woman when she’s full of me.
I used to think it was just weird, but after years of soul searching, I get myself. It’s about owning her as much as she’d own me.
That thought is like a bucket of cold water hitting me, and I snarl my refusal immediately. This is why I don’t do that shit anymore! I don’t want anyone owning me again; no matter how hard it is to deny myself the need to own.
I won’t ever do that to myself again, not even subconsciously, not even if just the thought of having Evie that way is so tempting it hurts to refuse myself.
She’d have my balls if I’m not careful, and from what I’ve seen of the woman, she’d be just fine with that fact. I’m not though.
But maybe I could just do straight up sex with her? Just eating her out and screwing her till we’re both empty? It doesn’t have to be more than once even, I could do it and tell her the score if she tries for more, and just ignore her if she’s unhappy about that.
Yeah. Yeah, that’s doable, I think, glancing over to see her bending at the waist, her breasts swinging free and braless with every breath she takes as Gus laughs along at something she’s saying.
My mouth waters at the sight, and I have to adjust my dick and force myself to look away before I do something really stupid like grab her up, throw her on her bed, and rip the shirt away for an unimpeded view of her girls.
“You done, dude? We have that thing,” Gus barks a half hour later, ripping me out of my dark fantasies.
Evie is grinning at me in that impish way I’ve come to fear, her blue eyes sparkling at me when I realize my eyes have migrated south again and are firmly focused on her now peaked nipples.
Goddammit.
“Yeah,” I mumble, jerking my eyes to Gus, ignoring his amusement. “Merle should call any minute since Evie’s people are due here in a few. Pack up and I’ll get ready to leave.”
“Peters? Uh, could you maybe do me a favor since I can’t leave the apartment?” Evie asks, following me into the kitchen as Gus starts packing up his tools while humming.
I’m not ready to talk to her in full sentences yet, so I just grunt and ignore her as I grab a glass of water and lean against the counter.
“I need some things from the store. I’ve got a list, and you can use my card.”
“I don’t buy tampons or shit like that,” I snarl, praying that those are on the list since a period would put an end to my thoughts immediately.
She laughs at me as if I just made a joke—women—and shakes her head.
“I take the shot, so I don’t need those things. No, just uh, some necessities since…” she trails off and shakes her head.
“Fine, give me the list.”
Chapter Eight
Evaline
“Okay, that should just about do it, Giselle,” I mutter around a mouthful of pins as the gorgeous model turns from me and walks into the bathroom to change out of the pants I just pinned for a better fit.
With these girls, it’s hard to get things just right since they seesaw between weights, not ever getting fat but losing just enough to make them between sizes instead of a standard fit like most women.
Giselle has been yo-yoing since she landed a small shoot for one of the cosmetics companies, and I’m damn lucky she feels loyal to me and Geek, o
r I’d have lost her to her emerging success already.
My other model didn’t bother to pitch either, so I’m one short and not at all in the mood for anyone’s shit as Kimber reclines on my bed and eyes me.
“I’ll get Mindy to come in tomorrow. Don’t worry. Things will go off without a hitch,” she purrs, flicking at her shoulder-length blond hair with a grin.
“I don’t like Mindy! She’s lost so much weight recently that I’d have to cut a yard off the smallest size to fit her, and her damn attitude stinks. That’s why we stopped contracting her for the website, remember?”
Giselle comes back minutes later and hands me the pants with a smile before falling to the bed with a grunt and a squeal of delight when she sees chocolate next to the bed.
How she stays this hot with her obsession for the brown stuff is a mystery I would hate to explore in my current mood.
“She’s lost a few jobs recently, so she’d probably be okay attitude-wise if you want to grab her up for tomorrow’s showing.”
“Giselle, honey, that girl is a flake.”
I turn to the sewing machine I set up earlier and start adjusting the thread as Giselle and Kimber start yakking about the newest hot designer and just stop myself from snarling.
I’m in a terrible mood right now, I know it, and probably not at all fun to be around, but who can blame a girl. Blaze eyed me all morning, getting me so hot I had to stop shaking my ass at him for fear of a wet spot on my shorts peeking through, and the damn man left me this way, in this state to go “do something important.”
And I can’t even brainstorm with my girls about it because I can’t tell them about him. That sucks since Giselle and Kimber are like two of the most knowledgeable women I know.
They’d give me valuable pointers on the whole seduction thing, and I could stop making an ass of myself by just being straight with Blaze. Jericho once told me that sometimes you need to be subtle to get the job done, that a hammer won’t always work, and I think he may be right—at least in this situation.
Something tells me that going at him full steam ahead would just make him pull back further. That frustrates me because I’m not a subtle, easy kinda gal.
I go for it hard; I always have, and I don’t know any other way.
“Okay, if you’re gonna be a dragster, we may as well leave you to it and get back to the office,” Kimber mutters when I ignore the umpteenth attempt to be drawn into their conversation.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just not in a good mood right now,” I say with a huff, ignoring their shared look.
It’s true, I can be a hard ass, but I usually do everything with a smile, even firing someone when it’s necessary. I’m not a dark-clouds girl, and my peeps have never seen me this way, so I get their surprise. I just don’t have it in me to explain without mentioning a certain dick.
“Oh baby, I so get that! Kimber told me all about what happened, and you look good, but the makeup can’t hide it all,” Giselle croons, mashing my face into her B cups with a mewl.
She smells like hotness, if that had a smell, and just the thought turns my stomach sour when Blaze’s words come back to haunt me. Yeah, I can so totally see him slavering after her without her even having to say a thing, never mind throwing herself at him.
Bitch. A cool bitch, but one all the same right now.
“I’m fine,” I mutter against her chest, resisting the urge to bury my face deeper.
What? She is hot, okay? I may be straight, but I’m no fool. I bask in her perfection for a moment before pulling away with an effort.
“My Rick was so pissed when he heard. I swear I had to listen to him rant all Saturday night about guarding your door. Of course, we ended up having sex instead.” She giggles, shrugging.
This is why I can’t quite hate her even though I want to. Giselle is gorgeous, and she’s loved the same man for almost five years now. Rick is a trainer, fit, hot and lickalicious, but he’s a plain Joe when compared to Giselle.
She loves him anyway though, and she would rather die a painful death than lose her huggy bear. I love Rick, he’s good people, so I appreciate his anger, as short lived and fickle as it may have been when faced with the goddess that is Giselle.
“That’s sweet but totally unnecessary. I’m all good.”
“Really? Because it’s fucking stupid to just shrug this off, Evie. You should come and stay with me. I have a gun, and I am not afraid to shoot first,” Kimber says vehemently.
“Not this again, Calamity Jane. I’m fine. I am. I got an alarm put in just this morning, and I have the Taser you got me.”
Kimber snarls and shakes her head as I hustle them to the door and out into the hall, wanting some time to myself before Blaze returns. I’m just waving them off when the elevator opens and the man himself walks out, his eyes trained on Kimber and Giselle in a way that makes my eye twitch.
Asshole. They both give him a good once over as he passes, and Giselle even winks at me before the doors close. Blaze takes his time getting to me, probably still not wanting the girls to know he’s here with me, and I take the opportunity to give him a good once over.
“Get inside woman.”
Get inside me, Blaze, I mutter silently, huffing back inside and straight to my bedroom. I have work to do, a vagina to corral, and some thinking to do before Mr. Grump lays into me for the stuff on my shopping list.
“Lube?” he asks, not bothering to knock before storming in with a snarl.
I resist a giggle and roll my eyes, adjusting a dial on the sewing machine.
“Lube, Peters, you know, that stuff one needs not to cause oneself injury,” I trill, pressing the pedal to set the machine going.
He continues to glare and grind his teeth while I work for a few minutes, stopping only when the seams are set just so before grabbing the scissors to cut off the excess.
“You made me buy you lube so that—”
“I can use my buddy bear. Yep. Look, it’s that or you and me, and since you obviously don’t want sex with the plump, little nun Jericho makes me out to be, I have to cut my losses, Peters.”
It tickles me a lot that he’s not impressed by my using a vibrator a door away from him, but like I care. I need some relief from this morning’s eye sexfest, and if I don’t get it, I may attack him, and where would I be then?
Staring at a meaner, more annoyed version of this broody beast.
“Evie, you are not plump or unattractive. I’ve already told you this. I just can’t go there, okay? Jericho aside, because yes, I get that he shouldn’t really be an obstacle. I don’t do more than a night with a woman.”
Ahh. So that’s the rub, huh? He’s all fearful of getting attached to little old me. Sweet.
I can’t exactly blame the man. I mean, I am great.
“And you expect me to understand that, soldier man? Look, more than a night signifies what to you? Commitment? Well, I already gave you a free pass on the ring, douchebag, and I told you that I’m semi-okay with casual,” I point out, wanting to be somewhat honest about things.
Do I see myself falling for him? Yeah, I won’t lie about it. He’s handsome, honest, honorable, and just damn adorable with those scowls and his bad attitude. I think he may be my perfect match but for the fact that I’m not exactly that into the whole marriage thing, or starting families and being a wife and mom.
Not that I don’t want those things, just not yet.
So yeah, he’s perfect for me down to his smarmy attitude that I choose to believe makes him need all my happy.
I just won’t bank on anything more since he’s emotionally deader than roadkill on a Southern highway.
“Semi-okay?”
“Semi. As in I will do casual but may want at least friendship since I’m not a hussy who’s out for just sexual pleasure. If that’s all I cared about, I’d use buddy bear and just be done. I don’t expect anything from you, Blaze, just maybe some sharing like we did last night and for you not to hustle away right after sex. Is that
too much to ask?”
He sighs loudly. In this aggrieved way that is all too cute and makes me want to laugh and snort at the same time and lowers his butt to my bed, twisting my chair around to face him.
“No, and I can’t say I disagree since I get it. That’s not the problem I have. I can talk and fool around without a problem; I’m not a fucking robot either, Evie.”
I try to ignore his hands stroking my knees and swallow against the urge to push closer so those hands can go higher. The man is just way to nice, looking for me not to be aroused and ready for him when he’s this close.
He also smells great, which is making my thighs and sex go on red alert because there is nothing I love more than a man who smells good.
“What is the big problem then? You don’t want me, specifically?”
Oh please do not say “yes” because that would be bad for my ego. I like it just the way it is thanks much, and I do not need it to take a knock, not so soon after some perv almost killed me and didn’t even cop a feel.
Not that I’m complaining. Crap, I am eternally grateful for that, but it may be telling about what others see when they look at me. Maybe I am plump and not siren material. Maybe I just don’t pull some guys’ chains.
Not being all that experienced with men and their tastes after two measly relationships, I may just be reading this situation all wrong, though if I am, I will suggest to Blaze he get his eyes checked since they were plastered to my ass and boobs all morning.
That sigh comes again, and I feel my teeth ache as I grind them when he shakes his head and pulls his hands away.
“If I tell you something, it’s just between us and it doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind about not touching you. We clear?”
All I can do is nod when my mouth goes dry at his dark look, and I see him tense before relaxing a little.
“Before my divorce, I liked certain things in bed.”
“Like…like kink?”
Do not blush thinking about the things you want to do to him, I warn myself, clasping my hands so as not to reach for him.
“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it. I just think of it as what I like.”
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 37