Marc’s words brought her back to the present. “I’m sorry.”
Leah closed her eyes, listening to the rumble of the pickup truck. She felt like she had been talking for hours when in fact, it had only been minutes.
And as they passed the lit wooden sign that read Bryson’s Christmas Tree Farm, she looked at it longingly.
“I thought you were taking me home.”
“I am. I never said whose home.”
No, technically he didn’t. But it would’ve been nice to be asked.
“I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”
“Your parents are home. I’ll be fine.”
Moments later he pulled down a long gravel driveway, finally stopping in front of a sprawling ranch home with a porch that ran the entire length and a detached three car garage.
“I thought you lived in a farm house.”
“No, that’s why I bought this place. The original farm house burnt down back around two thousand-two and the previous owners had this built. It’s modern and has plenty of room.”
After parking close to the house, he cut the engine and wasted no time in getting out and coming around to Leah’s side to open the passenger door. Marc pulled her into his arms before shutting it with his foot. He carried her up three steps to the porch, putting her on her feet only long enough to unlock the front door, before swinging her up into his arms again. Menace paced in circles around him as he strode through the home, through a doorway, and then laid her on a king-sized bed.
Leah sat up, watching him pull a T-shirt out of a dresser drawer. He handed it to her. “Get comfortable. I’m going to let Menace out.”
In the time it took for him to take care of the dog, she had utilized the master bathroom to wash up, and slipped the well-worn T-shirt over her head. It fell to mid-thigh. She sniffed the scent of the fabric. Marc.
As she heard them coming back into the house, Marc talking to the enthusiastic puppy, she slipped between the sheets and curled up in ball. The pillow smelled like him too. She shut her eyes, hoping she’d be able to sleep.
Heat and hardness pressed against her. Leah blinked her eyes open, searching the dark.
Marc spooned her, one arm cradling her head, the other flung over her waist, his hand splayed over her belly. His soft breathing tickled the hair at the back of her neck. The T-shirt she wore had gathered just under her breasts, so they laid skin to skin. Her back plastered to his chest and stomach.
Something soft and warm pushed against her ass through her panties. He was completely naked and partially aroused. She hoped he was having a better dream than she’d had.
She was dying for a glass of water and to use the restroom. She didn’t want to wake him though, so she slipped carefully out of his embrace, moving his arm gently off of her, sliding away, then tucking the covers back around him.
Menace laid curled up in his dog bed in the corner of the room. He lifted his head and thumped his tail. Leah pressed a finger to her lips, willing the dog to stay quiet. The puppy yawned and then rested his head back between his paws, groaning softly.
Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, she quietly closed the door behind her. She headed down the hallway to the guest bathroom to relieve herself, then followed the glow from the light over the stove to find her way into the kitchen.
Grabbing a bottle of spring water from the fridge, she cracked the seal and guzzled half of it in one shot before snagging a second bottle to take with her. Maybe she should grab her things and walk back to the Bryson’s.
“You okay?”
Leah turned toward the husky voice. Marc leaned against the doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Buck naked. Shy was not in this man’s vocabulary.
He was something to look at, that was for sure. Muscular but lean, his only tattoo visible was the one on his right bicep. The recognizable Marines logo with Semper Fi underneath. His nipple rings were such a dissimilarity to the military cut hairstyle. He might be a put-together cop, but he had a freak side. The thought made one corner of her lips lift.
“Yeah. You?”
He reached out a hand. “I’d be better if you came back to bed.”
She regarded his long, outstretched fingers. “Yeah, me too,” she said as she approached him. With a quick move, he had her back pressed against the door jamb, one hand buried in her loose hair. He ran a thumb over her bottom lip and she winced. Her mouth was still tender and probably would be for a while.
He carefully pulled her bottom lip out so he could see the damage. “Ouch.” He captured her face in his hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I guess I can’t kiss you.”
She met his gaze in the low light. “No.” Unfortunately.
He slid his hand along her jaw, over her neck, her shoulder, down her arm until he reached her wrist. He laced her fingers with his and led her back down the hallway to his bedroom.
“Were you thinking about leaving?”
Leah didn’t know why, but for some reason she felt embarrassed she even considered it after he’d done nothing but been supportive. “Yes.”
“Then I’m glad I woke up.” He took the bottles from her, placing them on the nightstand, then turned to face her head on. “Take the shirt off.”
She crossed her arms in front of her, grabbing the fabric at her hips, and pulled the oversized T-shirt over her head. Before he could tell her to remove them, she tucked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and dropped them to the floor. She stepped out of them, moving closer to him until they were barely a breath apart.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered. She normally didn’t consider men to be beautiful, but he was like a work of art. A sculpture shaped carefully with expertise.
“So are you.”
She placed a finger at the little indent at the base of his throat and ran it down over his sternum. She flattened her palm over his heart, which thumped strongly and at a quickened pace. With her hand still firmly on his pec, she used her free hand to cup him. His sac was warm and soft, unlike his cock, which was hot and hard, steel-like under her fingers.
Her pussy pulsated between her legs, wanting what she gripped tightly. He shuddered as she stroked him slowly, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted.
His Adam’s apple jumped as he rasped, “I want to taste you.”
* * *
Leah raised her gaze to his and Marc growled. He reached for her, picking her up and placing her in the center of the bed. He settled between her legs, pushing her knees up and out. Damn. Her pussy glistened, ready for him. He wanted to just sink into her, go mindless while fucking her. But he really did want to taste all of her sweetness first.
Tucking her legs over his shoulders, he leaned into the back of her thighs, opening her up even more. Finding her center with his mouth, his tongue twirled around her clit, flicking it. He kissed her plush lips, parting them with his fingers, tasting her arousal.
Her thighs tremored as he glided his tongue in and out of her. Her wet, delicious heat frayed his control. A low, needy moan came from her as she moved against him, but he held her tight, settling her restless hips. He slid his hands under her ass, pulling her closer as he sucked at the swollen, sensitive nub. Her body jerked with each pull of his mouth.
Her hands slammed onto the bed on either side of her hips, her fingers winding in the sheets. Her back arched, her head rolled side to side, and he watched it all up the line of her body. Her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear her. She released the sheets and pulled at her own nipples, twisting the pink tips between her fingers.
Her body tensed around him, but he didn’t slow. He loved watching her reaction, her pleasure, her ride to the edge. And when she cried out that she was coming he pressed his mouth harder against her. When she fell over the precipice she thrashed against him.
He released her only when she stilled. He ran his slick fingers over his lips, tasting her, amazed how wet she had become. Her pussy was flushed and plump and the urge to seat himself deep within her overw
helmed him.
His balls were tight as hell, his cock painfully hard. And he wanted nothing more than her fingers pulling on his piercings when he entered her. The image made him shudder and he crawled to the bed stand, pulling out a condom. After shredding the wrapper with his teeth, he rolled it down his twitching hard length.
She made a move to get on top of him, but he stopped her with a sharp, “No.” She had all the control last time. He was taking it now.
He pinned her down with his body, spreading her legs wide with his knees. He nipped at the curves of her breasts, leaving little marks here and there. He sucked a nipple deep before letting it go with a little pop.
She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down. His time. His pace. He was in charge.
He grazed his teeth along her collar bone and she lifted her head up. Enough to sink her own into his neck. The pain shot through him, hardening his nipples, making his cock flex impatiently.
“Harder,” he told her. She complied by biting his skin until almost the breaking point, then letting the flesh go and swirling her tongue over it.
“I want to suck your nipples,” she demanded, reaching for his rings. When she hooked them with her fingers, she tugged hard, the skin flexing. He bowed his back away from her, stretching his nipples even further. She released them, letting her hands slide along his ribs and she used his body to pull herself up. She sucked on one nipple, the ring on her tongue, flicking the gold ring back and forth, then grabbed it with her teeth and yanked. Marc huffed with the sharp, but pleasurable, discomfort. And when she moved to the other nipple to repeat her machinations, he could only groan with encouragement. Each jerk of the nipple ring sent lightning through him. It was almost enough to make him come. There was something about a woman—this woman—playing with his jewelry with her mouth and fingers that kept him teetering on the edge.
His cock was like steel, unbreakable, unbendable. The erogenous pull on his nipples finally drove him to madness and he plunged into her. She was open and ready for him, but her body fit him snuggly. It was as if she had wrapped a fist around him and squeezed. He shifted his hips until he couldn’t go any deeper and stilled as he dropped his head forward and took a few deep breaths.
Thinking of pork products was definitely not going to help him now. His brain was intoxicated from the hot sheath encasing him, the perfect breasts below him, those golden greenish-brown eyes looking up at him, and those curved lips that would make any man lay at her feet and beg for mercy.
Her legs wrapped around him, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. She called out his name, the frustration clear in her voice. But he needed a second. Or two. Her wet heat was almost unbearable, making him want to pound her until he came. But his intent was to make her climax more than once. And he needed to keep his shit together to do that.
He began to move, slowly at first. He pumped his hips deep, then shallow. Deep. Shallow. Dipping his head, he kissed along her ribs, under her breasts, down her stomach, while he continued to thrust in and out of her, working towards a crescendo. Taking her to the summit before letting her fall. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth became lax until he quickened the rhythm. He thrust harder, deeper. Her neck bowed, her mouth forming words.
“Fuck me. Oh yes. Fuck me. Like that.”
He was losing himself within her. His pelvis slapping against hers. His ass clenching and unclenching with each thrust. A bead of sweat rolled down his spine.
“Are you going to come?”
“It feels too good. I want it to last.” Her answer was breathless, ragged, strained.
“No. I want you to come. When I tell you to come, you will come.”
“No,” she groaned.
“Yes.” He shoved a hand between them to find her slick clit. He pushed it, circled it, pressed it. She pulsated around him, which made him drive harder. He rubbed her swollen nub at a frantic rate. He needed her to let go. “I want you to come… Now.”
She bucked wildly, jamming her pussy tightly against him and the waves of her orgasm drowned him. He didn’t stop or slow his pace. “I want you to come again.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead she sucked deep breaths, her chest heaving, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Her head came dangerously close to the head board. He paused long enough to slide one pillow between her and the bed frame and another under her hips.
“I want you to come with me. Do you hear me?”
A low groan accompanied her answering nod. The sound drove a shockwave through his body all the way to his toes.
When her body grew hotter and her pussy tightened around him, he knew she was close. And so was he. Their bodies were slick with sweat, flushed with exertion. He leaned over, grabbing one of her nipples in between his teeth. She tugged on his. Lightening shot through him and he had no choice but to let go. He couldn’t hold on any longer.
“Fucking come now.”
“Yes,” she screamed as she slammed her hips up against him.
He gritted his teeth, and with a hiss, he released deep inside her.
Before he even opened his eyes, he knew she was gone. The warm body snuggled against him had bad breath and stinky farts.
He sat up and saw the T-shirt she had borrowed folded neatly at the end of the bed. He grabbed it, holding it to his nose. The cotton held a combination of her scent and his. His caveman instinct made him want to head over to his parents and drag her back to his bed.
But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. He needed to back off and leave her be. At least for a little bit. He knew where she was, knew she was safe.
Even so, he couldn’t wait to see her again. To hold her. To touch her. To run his fingers through her dark, silky strands.
They had the next three days off… And she only lived next door, where he had an open invitation to show up at any time.
Maybe that would work in his favor.
Chapter 8
It was time to head back to the house. The early evening sun was dropping at a rapid rate. The long walk Leah took after Mary Ann’s delicious and filling dinner had been greatly needed. She wanted to clear her head, but as she wandered through the rows and rows of trimmed trees, her thoughts kept returning to what had happened in the bar, the almost fatal mistake she’d made. The risk she had put both herself and Marc in was inexcusable. She ran the scenario over and over in her mind, continually going over what she should have done differently.
Marc had been pissed immediately after the incident, but later unexpectedly understanding. She made herself look bad, as well as him as her coach.
As she approached the outbuildings, the unmistakable crunch of footsteps headed her way. Maybe Ron had come looking for her. In the short time she’d known Marc’s father, he had already taken her under his wing and treated her like a daughter. She came around the corner of the bakery, ready to call out to him, and smacked straight into Marc.
He caught her upper arms in his grasp, keeping her from falling backward. Without a word, he dragged her over to the back door of the bakery, found the key above the door frame to unlock it, and drew her into the dark building.
He slammed the door shut, locking it behind them. He turned her away from him and stepped in close. She had no idea what he was up to. Excitement tinged with fear ran through her. He hadn’t said a word, and his expression had been intense when he had pulled her into the bakery.
The limited light casted shadows across the wall in front of her. Marc was directly behind her, his breath burning the back of her neck. Goosebumps broke out along her skin as she shivered. Her nipples peaked, aching for his touch.
“Put your hands up.”
Her pulse jumped at his words. “No.”
“Put your hands over your head, now.”
What? What was he doing? Trying to teach her a lesson?
With a slight tremble of anticipation, she complied. Two could play at this game.
“Good. Now keep them there. Don’t move. Are you carrying an
ything I should be aware of? Weapons? Needles?” His mouth was near her ear and she bit back a groan.
“No.”
“I’m going to search you for my safety and yours. No. Don’t turn around. Face the wall. Don’t look at me.”
This time she shivered violently. She didn’t fear him being cruel; she wasn’t worried he’d hurt her. She was afraid of the control he so easily held over her body. How her body reacted to his rough commands. In her past relationships, however few they were, she had always been the aggressor. The one demanding sex when she wanted it, how she wanted it. Maybe that’s why the relationships had been short.
He grasped her wrists and pulled her arms up higher, straighter. “Keep them up there.” He slid his hands down her arms. She couldn’t see him. She could only feel his long, masculine fingers brushing up and down from wrists to shoulders, then along her neckline. He raked his fingers through her hair as if searching, then brushed his knuckles over her cheeks and once more down her throat, over her shoulders, and under her arms. She tried not to jerk away, but her skin was on fire.
“If you know what’s good for you, don’t move.” His tone was tense and gruff, so low.
His hands stroked along the sides of her breasts. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and closed her eyes, trying not to cry out. He reached his arms around her, the heat of his chest against her back. His nipple rings were detectable through her shirt. He ran his knuckles under her breasts along the line of her bra.
She was appalled at her reaction to his power. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in air. “Marc…”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “Quiet.” The order was short. Her pussy clenched in response.
Continuing the search down over her breasts, he caressed her pebbled nipples and traveling over her stomach down to her waist, where they circled twice. She had no weapons hidden.
Brothers in Blue: Marc Page 9