Quiver (Revenge Book 1)

by Burns, Trevion

  Yep. Intended effect, achieved. She giggled as he appeared both desperate to move forward and completely immobilized.

  She decided, then and there, that it had all been worth it.

  It had been worth standing in front of her floor mirror for half an hour, fisting a can of whipped cream while encircling her breasts and nipples with the rich white substance, taking great care to ensure it was perfectly symmetrical on both sides. It had been worth it to Google ‘does whipped cream cause yeast infections?’ before she’d raced back to the mirror and painted a whipped cream triangle between her legs. It had been worth it to seriously wonder, as she waited for him to arrive, if her body would ever not feel sticky again.

  It had all been worth it, just to see that look on his face. The heat in his dark brown eyes broadcasting the filthy images that were surely flying through his mind. The way they became hooded as they ran her naked body and remained heavy once they’d made it back up to her eyes. Those lips—the ones she couldn’t wait to take the first taste of her—that he couldn’t keep closed. He wet them with his tongue before letting them pop back open.

  She raised her eyebrows at his stupefied expression, looked down at her whipped cream-covered breasts, the cherries she’d used for nipples, and then back up at him. Her eyes widened and she feigned innocence, as if she couldn’t imagine what had caused him to fall into the hazy-eyed world he had right then.

  “How was work, handsome?” she whispered, swaying back and forth in her sky-high red patent leather heels. She moved her body to the beat of the R&B song she had wafting from the stereo, careful to keep it slow and sultry.

  His eyes traveled her again. He couldn’t even smile.

  Veda stopped swaying, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Well… say something.”

  Admiring her for another moment before lifting his eyes back to hers, he tried to speak but nothing came. He tried again, and managed a croak. Then, a sheepish smile crossing his lips, eyes lighting up, he said it. “You make me happy.”

  Veda clutched the table behind her, not having expected that. She’d been prepared for something much dirtier. Raunchier. Something more along the lines of ‘Turn around and bend over, now’, or ‘You’ve been a very bad anesthesiologist. Get over here so I can punish you.’

  Even ‘You’re a dirty, filthy, cock-sucking whore’, however unimaginative, would’ve been better.

  Anything…

  Anything but that.

  He swallowed. “You make me really happy, Veda.”

  Recovering, she decided not to chide him the way she usually would. She hadn’t struggled all evening to get this whipped cream flawlessly centered on each of her breasts for nothing. She fully intended to put it to good use, even if this guy was trouncing all over every friends-with-benefits boundary they’d erected over the past two months.

  She ran a finger over one breast, covered it with whipped cream, and brought it to her red lips, sucking it away. “Would you like to come closer and have a little taste?”

  He toed off his shoes and took the first step toward her, moving on slow feet while undoing his tie, eyes dusky, hungry. “Oh, I’d like that very much”

  She lowered her voice, attempting to channel Marilyn Monroe. “Well, you’d better get over here right this very instant, big boy.”

  He let his tie fall to the floor, still moving toward her, before going to work on the buttons of his shirt. “What about dinner?”

  Veda’s mouth dropped, and she glanced over her shoulder. Two bowls of pasta sat behind her with a white candle flickering between them. She looked back at him. “Right… about that. I was cooking you a romantic dinner, and about halfway through I realized that I hate cooking dinner.”

  He chortled, his eyes shining with delight as he peeled off his unbuttoned shirt, exposing the thing she’d grown to love most about him—that chiseled, Italian sculpture of a chest.

  “So, you can enjoy this magnificent feast of…” She motioned to the bowls. “Delectable angel hair pasta, tossed in a succulent butter sauce….”

  His smile exploded to twice its size, abs constricting as he laughed a quiet laugh.

  “Or…” She shook her hair out of her eyes. “You can enjoy me instead.”

  When he was close enough, she claimed his wrists, swatting his hands away from his belt with a playful grin before she continued undoing it herself.

  His eyes gleamed down at her.

  She lifted her own to his as she slid the belt out of the loops.

  He looked like an angel and a demon, all at once.

  An angel because she knew the magic those pink lips could make when they were buried between her legs. She knew the silky feel of that feathered black hair tangled around her fingers as she rode his face to a spine-bending release. She knew the skill of that swollen cock, straining against his zipper even then, lighting fire to every part of her it touched when he went in deep, stroking parts of her that no man had ever reached.

  And he looked like a demon because she knew the inferno one touch of his fingers could ignite inside her, convincing her she could perish from just one stroke. She knew the danger of his earthy scent when it entered her body, rendering her unable to form one coherent thought. The way his moans made the whole world fall away when he came, making her wonder how her world had ever spun without that sound.

  Yes, a demon.

  A gorgeous demon.

  She sighed.

  But mostly an angel.

  One she could foresee destroying everything she’d come home for. One who, perhaps, already had. Over two months in Shadow Rock and Todd Lockwood was still alive. Not because Veda wanted him that way, but because the angel/demon before her had dominated her world until all she could think about was the next time those lips were between her thighs, those moans were warming her ears, and those fingers were submerged in her pussy.

  Even now, as he tilted his head at her, watching her release his stiff cock from his pants, she knew the smile on his face alone would end her if she let it.

  That smile slowly fell as she pushed his pants and boxers down over his ass. He nibbled his bottom lip and stepped out of them, brushing his knuckles down the edge of her jaw once he was just as naked as she was.

  She palmed his ass with splayed fingers, amazed at how solid it was. Amazed by his beauty.

  Without another word, he bent down to her breasts and seized one cherry between his teeth, then the other, clutching her waist. He annihilated them in seconds, downing them in one swallow before spreading his lips over what he was really after—her erect nipples, standing at attention and begging for his tongue. He didn’t keep them waiting, sucking one taut bud between his lips until it brushed the roof of his mouth, warming it with his breath, moaning at its flavor.

  The pulse in her center throbbed with need for him, and when she reached down and wrapped his hardness in the tight vise of her fingers, drawing a tug that elicited his deep moan, Veda went weak at the knees. His groans came back to back as she stroked him, burrowing under her skin and rumbling a path straight to her heart, which squeezed tight for more of that beautiful sound.

  Shivers raced along her spine when, even as his groans grew strangled with his own need, he still took his time licking the whipped cream from her aching breasts, never relenting until every drop was gone.

  He bent down and swept her off her feet, carrying her into the bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he didn’t waste a moment getting to work on the whipped cream triangle between her quivering thighs.

  In what felt like a fluttering blink of her eye, he’d licked her entire body clean. Remnants of the sticky cream transferring from her skin to his as she straddled him and guided his swollen cock to her pulsing entry, a whimper tearing through her as her soaking wet center took him as deep as he could go, fucking him until he was whimpering too.

  —

  This wasn’t over.

  Veda may have allowed her spit-shined boy toy to distract her for two long months. And oh
, what fun it’d been, being distracted.

  But she hadn’t forgotten. If the karmic gods believed she’d abandoned her quest to finish the job they refused to do, she was more than happy to prove them wrong.

  She stepped off the elliptical machine and took a swig from her water bottle, but she never removed her eyes from Todd, who was lifting weights across the room.

  After two months, she knew his schedule better than she knew her own. She’d learned that he was Type A to the core. He always left his job at Blackwater Cruises five minutes and thirty seconds later than he was supposed to. He came to this gym every weekend at ten on the dot and always made a beeline to the red weight bench at the farthest corner of the room. It was the only bench he used. If someone happened to be on it when he arrived, he patiently waited for them to finish. Patiently waited as in he gave them a death glare until they became so uncomfortable they were left with but two options: fight him or leave. So far, the people would just leave.

  Veda was still waiting for the day when Todd fucked with the wrong one.

  Oh wait. He already has. She smirked at her thoughts.

  After claiming his precious bench, he’d proceed to do exactly three sets of ten reps. After he finished, he’d leave the gym, cross the street to Jamba Juice, and order three wheatgrass shots and three bistro sandwiches. He’d eat one sandwich in his car and the other two when he got home. Always in front of his living room TV at twelve noon. No earlier. No later.

  No exceptions.

  His schedule during the week was just as stringent and repetitive. Veda appreciated that this dude was borderline OCD.

  It would make it much easier to kill him.

  Sure, she’d fallen behind schedule thanks to Gage swooping in and distracting her with his angel/demon cock, but Veda hadn’t forgotten what she’d come for.

  Still, as she crossed the gym while lapping on a Blow Pop, keeping her eyes on Todd as he grunted through his reps, she couldn’t keep her eyes off another unshakeable distraction.

  Beyond the glass walls that separated the main gym from the boxing room, Veda drank in the sight of Detective Lincoln Hill like water. He pounded away on the heavy bag, sweat pouring from his body. In many ways, he was just like Todd: always at this gym at a certain time, and always beating the shit out of that bag.

  Veda found herself pulling open the glass door of the boxing room and stepping inside. It was empty, save for Linc.

  He didn’t stop pummeling the bag to see who’d come in. Didn’t even look her way.

  She didn’t take it personally. After weeks of observing him when he was at the hospital for work, she knew his M.O. He didn’t look at people. He didn’t touch people. He didn’t speak to people unless they spoke first, and even then the bulk of his responses could barely be classified as grunting.

  At least now he grunted for good reason. He’d been going at that bag for ages. The evidence of the pain he must’ve been in was written all over his tightly drawn face and pulsating arms. But he didn’t slow, didn’t relent. A pair of loose sweats hung from the V at his hips, appearing one false move from sliding right off.

  Veda licked her lips, dropping her duffle bag in the corner next to his and crossing the room.

  She lingered at the heavy bag beside his, allowing her eyes to travel his muscled body, gleaming with sweat from his exertion.

  Rolling the sucker under her tongue, she brought her fisted hands up under her chin, still watching him, and threw a punch.

  The moment her fist connected with the heavy bag, she almost cursed. That thing was hard as a fucking rock! She yanked her hand away, examining her knuckles to make sure she hadn’t broken something, flexing her fingers with a cringe. She examined her nails, running her thumb over the tips she’d just had painted into the shape of red hearts, suddenly worried about ruining her manicure.

  When she looked back up, Linc’s gaze was locked on hers.

  Veda sucked in a breath and straightened her spine, lollipop freezing between her lips in mid-spin.

  His green eyes, squinted into slits, fell to that lollipop stick, then traveled her body over his bulky shoulder. That eyebrow, split in half from the scar she’d put on his face, lifted at her. He curled his lip.

  Her fists screamed, “No more! Who the hell do you think you are? Mayweather?” But she lifted them back up and threw another punch into the bag, manicure be damned, her eyes never leaving his.

  His eyes fell to her fists, watching them collide with the bag again and again. Her hardest hit wasn’t enough to move it even an inch.

  That mangled eyebrow rose higher. Those green eyes found hers again.

  He smirked.

  Then he turned away from her and went back to his own bag.

  A shot of exhilaration shot through Veda, so much that it sent her bouncing back and forth on her toes, returning to her own bag as well.

  9

  “Fuck, that tongue….”

  Veda longed to hold Gage’s smiling gaze as his firm tongue swirled her clit, but the pleasure firing through her made her eyes slam closed against her will. Her back left the bed at the familiar warmth in her belly, growing tighter every second. A scream slashed up her throat, booming from her wide-open lips as that warmth moved to a sizzle, burning her skin inch by glorious inch until her screams had been replaced with gasps of disbelief.

  Tongue never slowing, Gage palmed the back of her naked thighs and pushed her legs deeper into her chest. He spread his mouth wide over her glistening pussy as his fingers glided in and out of her slick entry, tapping the spot he’d learned was guaranteed to leave her convulsing, panting, begging for more.

  Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging it tight as she rode his eager lips, blinded by the orgasm squeezing her bones and leaving her twitching in both agony and delight.

  His soft laugh was muffled in her velvety walls, and he gave her clit a gentle kiss after she collapsed onto her bed.

  Even as she came down from her high, he hadn’t come down from his. He suckled her swollen center, replacing the moisture her body had created with the wetness of his tongue, his love, and his greedy, open-mouthed kisses. Digging his fingers into her thighs, he lapped a hot trail down her pussy, dipping his tongue into her pulsating cunt before continuing even lower, spreading his lips hungrily over her second entry and pushing his tongue inside that as well.

  “Oooh, you are so bad…,” Veda gasped, tightening the fingers still buried in his hair as she released a breathy laugh at the new sensation.

  Her heart went to war with her ribcage when he remained there, in uncharted territory, long after the final tremor had shaken itself from her body. She went from yanking his hair to stroking it, a coy smile growing on her face as he gave her tight, untouched bud just as much attention as he’d given her pussy.

  She’d been waiting. It was only a matter of time. Over the years, she’d become convinced all men wanted it. Some more secretly than others. They were always at right about the three-month mark, she realized, when they finally found the courage to ask.

  Apparently, spit-shined rich boys were no exception.

  “What do you want, huh?” she whispered, pushing his hair from his face when the same lock continued to fall across his forehead.

  He gave her ass one last, patient lick, stared down at it in awe for a moment, and then lifted his darkened eyes to hers.

  “I want every inch of you,” he rasped, dragging his hand up her bare stomach, fingers splayed, unable to allow a single inch of her to go untouched before he cupped both her breasts in his hands.

  “I don’t do that….” She let her voice go soft. “Okay?”

  He ran the tip of his nose over her mound, stroking against her wetness before setting his chin on top of it, meeting her eyes. “Okay, Veda.”

  Her heart burned, but that time it had nothing to do with the amazing things that tongue had done to her body. Even in the wake of his uncomplaining agreement, his complete understanding—not even a hint of anger in his
eyes—she found herself explaining. “That’s a part of me no one’s ever touched.”

  He removed one hand from her breast. It wobbled in his retreat.

  Veda took hold of his wrist when he held her jaw, running the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “Not the only part,” he whispered.

  She held his gaze for a moment longer, understanding what she saw in it so clearly that she had to turn her head, breaking their gaze and kissing the tips of his fingers.

  “I want to kiss you. I bet you taste like sour apple.”

  Cutting a look at him from the corner of her eye, she took his pointer finger into her mouth and sucked. She knew the tips of most men’s fingers had an electric line connected to their dick. She’d yet to meet one whose finger she could suck without him picturing the throbbing head of his cock in its place.

  She saw Gage’s eyes go to that place as he watched, but only for a moment. Something deeper, stronger, took over, erasing it from his gaze as he reclaimed hers. “I want to kiss you.”

  “You’ve been kissing me, silly.” She clapped her thighs around his head, making his cheeks smoosh together. She couldn’t help a chuckle at the sight.

  “I want to kiss your lips,” he said as she unclenched her thighs. He cupped one with his free hand.

  “Again.” Her smile grew. “You just been kissing my lips.”

  He appeared to have stopped listening, his eyes riveted to the thumb that still caressed her bottom lip.

  Then the top.

  Veda’s eyes left his. Red-hot unease blasted through her. She kissed each of his fingers one more time, then intertwined them with hers. “I love your hands.”

  He watched her kiss his palm, but didn’t call her out on the change of subject.

  Veda admired his hand, stroking her own fingers against it. “They’re wider, longer, stronger than mine, but… smoother. More shapely.” She inhaled, reminiscing on the magic those fingers had just worked inside her, making them all the more appealing “They’re actually beautiful.” She looked back down at him. “They have curves and arcs… It’s almost like they’re a body all their own. Sometimes I get turned on just looking at them.”