Hard Ride

by Trixie Pierce

  Pushing against his g-spot, rubbing her thumb across the tightened skin on his balls, she sucked him down, until her mouth was against his skin, humming, running her tongue against the underside, and relished every shudder, yell, moan, the sight of his head thrashing as wave after wave of pleasure rolling through his body. She swallowed it all, and couldn’t wait for when it was possible to do it again.

  Gently letting him go, she sucked on her teeth, gave him her best shit eating grin, winked at his glazed expression and quipped, “Good morning, Houston.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Laughing, she rolled to the side of the bed, grabbed her canes, and tottered into the bathroom. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you wake your man.

  *

  Breakfast was waiting when they made it downstairs, Houston carrying her. She was getting addicted to the being carried around like a queen thing. She couldn’t help grinning at everyone as they passed. Winks were passed around, and Katie ate it up.

  “Ms. Parker, your accountant, Mike, called. Said the bank called about checks that were issued recently,” Heather placed a filled plate on the table.

  “Thanks, going to head to the office today. I want to check a few things, will talk to him then.” She reached for the butter.

  “No, you’re not. You don’t need to go anywhere until we know exactly what is happening, I’ll go and look. I have to make sure it’s safe.” Houston’s voice echoed in the quiet dining room.

  Katie caught the looks of surprise around the table, but ignored them. Pushing the plate away, rested her forearms on the table, leaned in, and spoke very low, “I’m sorry. I think I may have misunderstood, Houston. Did you just order me to stay here like a good little girl while you rush off to play Mr. Hero?”

  Through her peripheral vision, she noted everyone but Houston rose from the table and beat feet out the door. Houston, however, leaned back, crossed his arms over his massive chest, and gave her a hard look, “You can’t walk around the house, much less defend yourself against an attack. So, yes, I am telling you to stay here – for your own safety. I am capable of taking care of myself.”

  Katie didn’t dare speak, the rage was too hot, the insult burned too much. The words too close to orders her father gave her mother. Images of her mother folding in on herself, head bowed, not saying a word overtook her vision, and every muscle became tense, hot.

  “And what, pray tell, makes you believe it is your right to do so?” she spoke barely above a whisper, words clipped.

  She noted he held his breath, the slight widening of his eyes. She’d surprised him.

  “Just because you are a good fuck does not give you rights over me, or any decision I make.” She stood, grabbed her canes and tottered out of the dining room, knowing if she said anymore, it would be words regretted later.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Houston stared after Katie’s retreating form, not sure what words would bring her back. What he needed to say to keep her home, safe. It had been automatic to give out orders, to fall easily into the military mindset. With her life on the line, he was going to take over and ensure she didn’t go through the pain of more injuries, physical or otherwise.

  She wouldn’t admit it, but her uncle’s betrayal hit her hard. She might not remember the times in the hospital she’d cried, under the influence of drugs, unable to understand. Add in someone was still working it behind the scenes, and her sense of trust was shattered, possibly permanently. Could she not see all he wanted was to spare her more pain?

  Standing, he took a deep breath, and stalked after her. She’d made it to the entertainment room, kicked back in a recliner, staring at the big white screen. He needed to say something, just didn’t know what it was.

  “Get out and leave me be, Houston. Now is not a good time to become the Neanderthal.” She didn’t look his way.

  “Katie, it’s too dangerous. Whoever is the inside person has no qualms about using violence, surely you know that.” He sat to her right, turning in the recliner to face her.

  Katie turned on him, face a mask of rage, “Really, Houston?” She pointed at her legs, waved at the scars on her face, pulled the t-shirt down to show the scars going across her collarbone. “I get it more than you do. I see what they are capable of every damn time I look in the mirror. But if I can get past it, so can you.” She faced the blank screen. “You can’t stop me. I’m going to the office, and going to act like it is any other day.”

  Houston shoved a hand through his hair, tugging a little on the ends. It was not going as he envisioned. “Why won’t you let me protect you?”

  “Protect me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He met her gaze, flinching. It was hard, angry, and he saw the flicker of betrayal in the depths.

  “Why can’t I take care of you? Protect you? I can do this, find out who is embezzling, keep you safe at home and away from the possibility …” he stood and paced in the aisle.

  “What?” She pointed a finger at him, “Get over it, now. I did just fine for thirty years without you to hover over me, and I sure as hell don’t need you to start doing it now.” Picking up a cane, she threw it at his head, “Get out! I’ve had enough of overbearing men in my life, telling me what I can or can’t do, what I should or shouldn’t do, that I have to have a man to take care of me. Get out now!”

  He ducked, blinking at the show of violence. Deciding to let her cool down, he left, heading straight for his car parked in the massive garage. Pushing the button on the wall to open the garage door, he jumped into the new Challenger, and peeled out. Controlling his temper, he drove carefully out of the neighborhood, going straight for Hard Ride on the other side of town. Once on the highway, he released a little tension, pushing the car to over ninety.

  Hard Ride was home, in a way. Unlocking the door, the smell of gas and grease assailed him. They had one car currently being worked on, a nice 1947 Mercury, but it was the Judge, at the far end, that drew him.

  It was in primer gray, ready to paint. The engine had to be replaced, along with the transmission, and he’d searched for two weeks to find replacement doors and trunk lid. The dash replacement alone had taken a month. Standing next to the car, he ran a hand along the roof, marveling at the difference from when it’d been towed to the shop after the accident. The Judge just needed time, patience, the right work at the right time to get back to its normal bad ass self.

  He stopped, staring at the car.

  Damn, I am such an idiot.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Katie stared at the screen, trying to work through the red haze fogging her thinking. Over and over, she replayed the conversation. Had she overreacted? Possible. But his words triggered the memories of her father, and his patronizing way of handling the two women he was supposed to have loved. The many times he’d said women shouldn’t run businesses, women weren’t able to take care of themselves, for her to find a “good man” to take care of her. He’d paid for her college education at Harvard, nagging every semester that she’d still not found a husband. He’d been investing in her finding a male to take over his business.

  But Houston isn’t your father, as he’s proven many times. Her mind wouldn’t allow the thought to be pushed aside, or thrown out. It was easier to think of Houston as any other man, just really good in bed. But her conscious knew it was wrong to categorize Houston as a man like her father.

  Slapping a hand over her eyes, she pushed the recliner back, and mumbled, “So many Daddy issues.”

  Katie heard the sound of sneakers on carpet and looked up to see Heather. “What’s up, Buttercup?”

  “I think you need to talk, so I came in to offer an ear, or a shoulder, whichever is needed.” Heather, short and curvy, with long brunette hair, was the kind of person forever with a smile. She’d been working for the Parker family since Katie was a teenager.

  Katie put a hand on her arm, “Always did know when I needed to talk.”

  “Is the memories of your
father coming between you and the hunky man that’s been staying with us?” Heather took Katie’s hand, and held it.

  “He was supposed to be a friend with benefits. Now he wants more, and tries to tell me what to do. Kind of pisses me off.”

  “Yeah, I saw that. FwBs are awesome, have one myself. But Katie, you see him as more. I think it’s why you’re having such a hard time.”

  Katie stared at the blank screen, knowing she wouldn’t be able to change the subject. Heather was a dog with a bone. “Doesn’t matter if I did.”

  “Why? I’ve seen him handle you at the hospital, he was your saving grace. He’s attentive, intelligent, doesn’t see you as a woman to be conquered, and well, to be honest, that man is hot.”

  Katie giggled, “Yeah, he is all of those things.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  Katie turned to meet Heather’s warm brown eyes. “What if I turn out like my father? Overbearing and emotionally abusive, what if I think this is love, but is really just a serious case of lust?”

  “One, you are not Mr. Parker. I can say that with complete authority. He was a sociopathic ass who treated you and your mother like dogs to be kept tied out back. Second, the very fact you ask yourself those questions means you aren’t. It’s time to take more chances, outside of business. I’ve watched you avoid intimate relationships for fifteen years, Katie. Time to grab your tits and charge in. Take a chance. You might get hurt, but at least you tried.” Heather stood, kissed her forehead, and took three steps before turning around, “You’re like a little sister to me, always have been. Houston hurts you when you decide to be vulnerable, I’ll personally kick that fantastic ass of his.” She strode out of the room.

  Katie chuckled, thinking over the conversation. Heather was right, as always. Despite being a widow at the very young age of thirty-six, she didn’t let life hold her back. It was time to imitate her, and give it a shot.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Houston sat at the desk, pulling up spreadsheet after spreadsheet, cross checking them with receipts, and finally decided to hack the email accounts. Working his magic, he got into the company email server, and started sifting through various accounts. He was rather proud of Katie’s paranoia, not allowing emails to be deleted, and they were chock full of very interesting information.

  “What are you doing, Houston? Does Katie know you’re here?” Mike stormed through the office door.

  “Yes, she does. She can’t get into the office today, so I’m helping,” Houston met Mike’s light blue eyes, fear and anger reflecting in the depths.

  “Well I need her to approve a new supplier. You don’t have that authority. So if you don’t mind, I need to get some work done.” Mike bent over the side of the desk, his face a mask of aggression.

  Houston leaned back, and let his gaze sweep over Mike. It was the first time he’d ever seen the man show a spine. He stood, took a step forward, crowding Mike. “I have her express permission to be here. If you have a problem with that, call her.” He grabbed the handset and held it out. Mike was practically vibrating, and his hand shook grabbing the handset.

  “No need, you two, I’m right here. Houston, what do you have pulled up?” Katie took slow steps into the office, shooing them both out of the way.

  “I think you’ll find it extremely interesting,” Houston waved Katie into the plush chair, and maneuvering between Mike and Katie.

  “He hacked the server? Some of those emails are personal!” Mike yelled, making a lunge for the keyboard.

  Houston grabbed the smaller man’s chest, shoving him into the back wall and holding him in place. “This is company property, including all emails. Did you not read the employee handbook?”

  Mike started to sweat heavily, his breathing labored. He fell limp against the wall, a hand over his eyes, tears falling between his fingers.

  Houston held him easily, but watched Katie. She was tabbing through spreadsheets, invoices, the bank accounts, and finally, to the emails. Her expression of concentration never changed, her eyes moving rapidly. She took a few notes. He could almost hear the well-greased wheels of her brain turning, putting all the pieces together. His Hellcat was highly intelligent, even if a little self-blind.

  She minimized everything, pointed a finger at Mike, and picked up the phone. “Yes, this is Katie Parker. I have proof of embezzlement, assault with a deadly weapon, kidnapping and assault with intent to harm.” She rattled off the shop address, hung up and swung the chair around to face Mike.

  “Why? Why would you do this to me?” her face held betrayal and pain, eyes filled with tears. “I took a chance on you when no one else would, Mike! What changed? According to all of this, it’s only been the last six months.”

  Mike remained silent.

  She wiped the lone tear that fell, and turned to the computer, printing as sirens could be heard in the distance. She grabbed the paper, carefully tapped it on the desk, and pulled out a file folder.

  Houston wanted to kill Mike. He knew of Mike’s past, and her willingness to overlook it. It wasn’t everyday someone was willing to train an ex-con and give them a chance. And the little punk just blew it.

  He waited until the police had their evidence, read Mike his rights and hauled him off before giving Katie the attention she needed.

  She sat in the chair, speaking in monotone, handing over the paperwork, promising to go to the station to fill out multiple reports in a few hours. The crowd of uniforms left, the attorney was called, and Katie sat in the leather office chair, staring at the top of the desk.

  It broke his heart to see her beaten. He wanted the fire, for her to throw things, to yell, make pithy remarks, to scratch and bite. Not the look of defeat making her appear smaller, weak, as if life was going to win.

  He took the two steps to her chair, lifted her easily against his chest and sat down. Pulling her head into his neck, he rubbed her back, one hand gently running along the outside of her thigh, and rocking her.

  “I’m not a child, I’ll handle this.” Her voice was muffled, the little puffs of breath against his neck giving him goosebumps.

  “There is nothing wrong with taking comfort from someone else, Hellcat.” He wasn’t sure how she would take that statement, but he wasn’t given to hiding from her. “I like holding you, letting you wrap your mind around things. I enjoy it.”

  He held her in place when her body tensed, but sighed in relief when she didn’t insist on getting up. He kept her close, her weight perfect on his lap, the way she fit into him, the feeling of contentment permeating his bones.

  All he had to do was convince her of the same thing.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sitting on Houston’s lap, she wondered if she could give in to the emotions battering the long standing wall. It was one thing to say she was, but to do it something else entirely.

  His hands soothed the raw nerves, and she relaxed. After several minutes, something changed. She wasn’t sure what, but his hands slid past the ends of her shorts, sliding over her knees, the calluses on his palms leaving a trail.

  She sat up, palms on either side of his face, and gave a half smile at the heat radiating in a single look. She stood, and shook her head at his questioning look. He’d locked up the shop after the police left, so they were safe for whatever she wanted. And she wanted him. His body for comfort, to feel, to taste, to touch, and his nature to help her feel safe.

  She sat on the desk, pulling off the t-shirt and bra. A window was open somewhere, allowing a hot, humid breeze to rake across her chest. Her nipples hardened in response, a sensual feeling as Houston’s breathing jumped four notches, eyes widening, pupils dilating to the size of saucers. She undid the jean shorts, and wiggled to get out of them, adding extra movement from side to side to keep her breasts swaying. His low moan let her know she was doing something right. He reached out to her, but she gently pushed his hand down.

  “No, watch.” She had no idea what she was doing, but his reactions would tel
l her if she was doing it right.

  He blinked, face going slack. His voice, deep and rough, wove its own spell, “Two can play that game, Hellcat.” He whipped off the t-shirt, his muscles playing in the light from an overhead skylight.

  Her mouth watered, hands feeling the hard muscles from memory. Her body clenched in low places, the sight of his scars sexy, a reminder of his warrior status.

  She ran her hands over her flat stomach, watching as unzipped his jeans, releasing the massive erection. Her mouth watered when he gripped it, slowly sliding his hand up and down over the smooth skin. She’d leaned forward, her own hands plumping her breasts, pinching her nipples, breathing getting faster.

  “Keep going, Hellcat. Don’t stop,” he ordered.

  Blinking back to reality, she put a hand on the desk behind her, leaning into her arm, watching as he played with his balls and stroked the hard shaft faster. Precum glistened on the head, and spreading her legs, she used a hand to slide down to the apex of her thighs. She slid two fingers between swollen lips, feeling how wet she’d become at the sight of him. Dipping into her core, she gasped at the feeling, and moved her fingertips to the hard bud waiting. With slow circles, she put a little pressure, letting the pleasure flow through her body, felt the muscles clench.

  She liked Houston’s eyes never leaving her hand, how hard he was breathing, the muscles on his chest and arms popping. His hand moved faster, as sweat beaded on his forehead. He was beautiful. He was magnificent.

  Rubbing faster, and a little harder, she knew the orgasm wasn’t going to hold off for much longer.

  Sitting up, she reached forward, stopped his hand and pulled on the chair. As his long legs slid under the desk, she widened her legs over the armrests.

  “Let’s hope the chair is up for a little extra weight,” she whispered, moving her body over his. Balancing on the armrests, using her thigh muscles to stay up, she reached between them, grabbed his throbbing cock, and positioned it at her opening. Sliding onto the head, she let go, gripped the armrests and lowered herself until he was fully inside of her.