by Olivia Chase
I splurged and bought a hot little red dress I saw in a store window. It hugs my curves and flatters my breasts. I give him a coy little shrug. “You can never compliment a lady too much.”
He looks so gorgeous in black pants and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, sleeves rolled up his forearms and showing off his ink. God, I want to rub myself on him like a cat in heat.
He must read my thoughts in my eyes, because he reaches over and strokes my middle finger. “I want to touch you all over right now, Red. I’m so fucking hungry for you, always.”
My core tightens, and I bite my lip. I want that, too. He and I haven’t had sex yet. We’ve gotten close a couple of times, our making out heated and intense, but I’ve been too nervous about sex for some reason. I think it’s because I’m really interested in Jamison, and once we get that intimate, it’s going to be hard for me to walk away from him when I move to New York City.
Doesn’t stop me from aching for him, though. Touching myself at night thinking about his mouth on me down there.
Our waiter comes over and asks us if we want dessert. Jamison doesn’t take his eyes off me as he shakes his head and asks for the bill.
“We need to get out of here,” he says to me in a heated voice. “I have to kiss your mouth.”
“You can come to my place,” I offer on impulse. “The first day of my exam is at nine tomorrow morning, so I can stay up a little bit longer.” Probably pushing it, but I don’t want our night to end yet. I’ll still get enough sleep to be ready to test.
Jamison has been over there when he’s dropped me off or picked me up, but I haven’t asked him in yet. But right now, I’m throbbing with my desire. I need him to caress me, kiss me. I want to stroke his muscled stomach, taste him. See him fully naked. I’ve felt his hardness when he’s been pressed against me. I want to touch it.
“Red, are you coming on to me?” he asks in a deep, teasing tone. His eyes get a wicked gleam that makes my stomach tighten in anticipation. “Because I accept.” When the bill is dropped off, he peels over a handful of bills and puts it in the black folder. Then he grabs my hand. “Let’s go, sugar.”
I almost ask him where he gets the money to pay for these things, but then I catch myself and stop. One of the allowances I’ve made for our unexpected relationship is that I try not to push him on his work and the kind of life he leads.
Jamison comes from a totally different background then me, lives in a totally different world then me. He’s never pretended otherwise, but I’m afraid to dig too deeply and find out just how different his world is from mine.
I love what we are when we’re alone, just the two of us—and I don’t want to ruin it by discussing his life or my future plans.
The drive to my house goes fast. He’s over the speed limit. His hand clenches my thigh possessively, and he stokes my skin. “I want you so fucking badly,” he says.
“I want you, too,” I tell him. My heart is pounding so loud that he can probably hear it. I’m nervous, but I’m more excited. It’s going to happen.
We pull into the driveway of my apartment complex, and before I know it, I’ve opened the door to my apartment and closed it behind us. As soon as I do, he pushes my back against the door and kisses me hard enough to steal my breath. His hands rub me, knead my breasts, and I groan into his mouth.
“Fuck, Red, let me take this dress off you,” he says hotly.
I nod, and he whips it over my head and tosses it to the ground.
“Stunning,” he breathes, running his big hands over my hips, up my waist. I’m wearing simple black panties and no bra, and his mouth lands on my left nipple.
He sucks, and I arch against him. His hand slides down to my panties, cupping my apex over the silky fabric. I grind into his palm, my clit pulsing, my breath irregular. I’m so turned on.
“Bedroom,” he grinds out, pulling away from me. It sounds like even saying that one word takes effort.
I walk down the dim hallway to my room. My legs are trembling with anticipation of what’s about to happen.
I can’t stop this now. I need him too much, ache for him to fill me. I have to feel Jamison on me, in me, no matter what it may cost me in the future.
We fall onto my bed, and after he peels off my panties, he begins to whip off his own clothing, throwing his clothes to the floor on the side of the bed. Then his naked, warm body is pressed against mine. He’s firm and strong to my fleshy curves, and he nudges my thighs apart as he settles between my legs.
He slides his tongue on my throat, and I shiver from the intimate touch. “God, I want to eat you alive,” he growls against my skin. His hands roam all over me, making my flesh explode with building arousal. I can’t stop touching him either, stroking the planes of his back, his arm muscles, his tight ass.
His cock is swollen and throbbing between us, hard and big and delicious. I reach down to touch the tip, feeling the precum on my fingertips, and he sucks in a breath.
“Red, I need to fuck you. Tell me yes.”
“Yes,” I breathe, and then he’s off me, digging into his pocket and rolling on a condom.
His mouth captures mine in a sexy kiss that makes my toes curl. I grip his shoulders and spread my thighs wider when the head of his cock nudges at my entrance. I’m already so wet for him.
One hand caresses my breast, making my nipple bead, and then he’s pushing inside me.
He’s huge, stretching my walls to fit around him. I gasp in his mouth.
“Sweet fucking hell,” he groans. “You’re so deliciously tight, sugar. Oh my fucking God.” He slides into me inch by inch until he’s fully seated, our bodies seamless together. He squeezes my tit, a little flash of pain that makes me even wetter.
“That feels so good,” I pant.
Jamison withdraws then slams deep into my cunt full force, pressing me into the mattress as he fucks me hard. His eyes are dark and heavy, the moonlight spilling into my room through the slats of the blinds. He’s staring at me, stroking my body, pounding me. I hang on, my cries growing louder as his dick rubs my G-spot.
“Oh God,” I whisper, pleasure spiraling from my lower belly out to the rest of my body. “That’s going to make me come.”
He slides his hand to my clit and rubs me as he continues to fuck me. “Your orgasm is mine, Claire. I fucking want it.”
The possessive heat in his voice pushes me right to the edge.
He spreads my pussy lips wide open and leans back to watch his cock thrusting in me. “God, you are so gorgeous and wet for me. I just want to fuck you for hours.”
I start to shake all over as my orgasm nears. My whole body is electrified by his touch, by the way he’s looking at me, like he’s never seen anything more beautiful or desirable. He gives me a small pinch on my clit, and that pushes me over. I cry out as the shock waves erupt from my pussy throughout my body, my limbs stiffening, my voice throaty.
“Yes, fuck yes,” he says. “Oh God, fuck, that’s so sexy. I can feel you clenching around me”
When the orgasm fades, I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “I want you to come, too,” I tell him.
He takes my mouth in a hot, wet kiss, clenching my hair with one hand while the other cups my jaw. His cock hammers me, his thrusts growing frantic. “Fuck yes,” he breathes, “I’m going to come for you.”
“Yes,” I urge him on, digging my nails into his back.
He groans, stiffens, and his cock pulses in me as he spurts. “Jesus, yes,” he manages to grind out through gritted teeth. As the orgasm ebbs, he relaxes and sinks against me, his cock still deep inside.
Our breaths mingle together. My body is warm against his. We remain tangled with each other for several long moments, quiet but comfortable. Something has changed in me, a tether that links us together pulling in my chest. I can’t get enough of Jamison—craving him, his smell, his taste, his touch. Then he withdraws from me on a sigh, tugging off the condom and dumping it in the small wastebasket on
the other side of my bedside table.
“Fucking hell,” he says with a low laugh. “You wrecked me, Red. I came so unbelievably hard.”
I give a decadent stretch in the bed, shooting him a saucy look. “Glad it was worth waiting for.”
His hands caress my thighs as he stands above me. God, he’s gorgeous. Carved out of marble. His body is perfect. “Unbelievably worth it.”
I sit up and grin widely. I’m surprised I’m not feeling shy, since we’re both naked. But the way he touches me, looks at me, I feel surer of myself in a way I never have before. A strange warmth fills my chest. “You know what?” I say to him. “I really want some ice cream right now.”
He barks out a laugh. “That’s a first. Never fucked a girl into having a sweet tooth before.”
“I’m just unique, I guess,” I say primly. When I bend over to get my panties off the floor, he smacks my ass, and a delicious sweet sting spreads through the cheek and warms my skin. I spin around and glare at him. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“You committed the crime of having a sexy ass.” He winks. “If we’re getting ice cream, we should go now. Mavis’s closes soon. They have the best mint chocolate chip around.”
We quickly don our clothes and head to his car. He drives us toward the center of town via back roads, our fingers woven together. There’s definitely a new dynamic between us, a level of intimacy that wasn’t there before. Does he feel it, too? The sex was hot, but I was more than just turned on.
I feel close to him. Happy. Sated.
Blissful.
Jamison utters a small curse, looking in his rearview mirror, his eyes narrowed.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He frowns. “This truck’s been following me the last couple of miles, and they’re blinking their high beams now.”
I turn around and sure enough, I see the truck’s headlights flicking strong, then back to normal. “Do you know them?”
They drive right on his tail, uncomfortably close, and flash their beams again.
Jamison growls. “I don’t know, but I’m not fucking happy about it. I’m pulling over to see what the hell is going on.” He drives onto the side of the road, and the truck pulls in right behind.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Jamison presses a small kiss to my mouth and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Stay here, Red. Probably nothing wrong, but I wanna be sure you’re okay.”
My stomach flutters with sudden nervousness. “Okay.”
He moves his hand to his car door when there’s a big pounding sound on his window.
A guy with massive muscles and a thick neck glares at Jamison, a baseball bat in his hand. He taps it on the glass. “Remember me, dickhead?” the guy asks. “The guy you and your brothers tried to scare outside the bar? Get the fuck out here before I start breaking shit on your car.”
“Stay in here,” Jamison orders me.
My stomach lurches. “But—”
“Red, don’t fucking leave this car.” With that, Jamison opens his door and steps outside.
Jamison
I stare into the face of the rich meathead douchebag my brothers and I harassed outside of Outlaws a couple of weeks ago. I remember that massive gold watch he’s sporting.
Four more guys emerge from the big, expensive pickup truck—all of them as tall as him and wearing workout clothes. Probably gym buddies who saw me driving by and decided to get revenge.
“It’s a lot of fun, isn’t it, teaming up on a guy when he’s way outnumbered,” the meathead says smoothly. He taps the hood of my car with his bat, not enough to dent it but making a loud sound. “So now I’m returning the favor.”
My chest tightens when I hear Claire’s door open. “What’s going on?” she asks, her voice tinged with fear as she eyes the bat.
“Your girlfriend’s awful pretty,” the meathead purrs, his eyes narrowing at her. “Do you think she knows what an asshole her boyfriend is? I think we should educate her.”
One of the guys gives a guttural grunt, eyeing Claire up and down. I don’t like the leering look on his face. “I’ll educate her on lots of stuff,” he mutters.
“Leave her alone,” I say evenly. “She has nothing to do with this. Let her go.”
Claire moves up beside me, clenching my upper arm. There’s fear in her eyes, reflected in her stiffness. “What’s going on, Jamison?” she asks me.
Meathead drops the bat at his feet. Then he sucker-punches me in the jaw before I can say anything. My head jerks back, and pain explodes across my face. Fuck.
“I wanted the pleasure of having the first strike be my fist,” he says with a smirk. He picks the bat up again. “Now it’s time to fuck you up.”
I move to stand in front of Claire, who’s shaking in terror. I work my jaw and glare at the men. I’m royally fucked. But I’m not letting them hurt her.
The men form a semi-circle around me. I keep Claire between me and the car, my hands in defensive position to protect my face.
One of the men swings a fist at me, and I block the hit with my forearm, attempting to kick out at his leg. I connect with his knee, and he grunts in pain.
Then the baseball bat hits me on the back, hard, and I drop to my knees from the blow. Claire cries out. “I’m a lawyer,” she says, “and if you hit him again—“
“Shut up, bitch,” someone yells at her.
“This is fun, isn’t it?” the meathead says, standing over me. He swings the bat at me again, knocking me on the shoulders. His friends take turns kicking me as I fall all the way to the ground, winded, my body wracked with pain.
Claire’s screaming at them to stop, but they don’t. I grab for one guy’s ankles and yank at his leg, knocking him off balance. When he stumbles, I punch him in the dick. He doubles over instantly, giving a sharp cry.
Asshole.
I get back on my feet, my body throbbing, and dive into the group, swinging my fists everywhere I can. I’m fucking pissed now, filled with rage, my blood pulsing. I connect with jaw after jaw. Hits are coming at me from all sides, but I’m determined to stay standing.
The bat hits me in the thigh, and I growl with the strong flash of pain that follows the blow. I give meathead an uppercut that knocks the wind out of him.
His friend, the one I hit in the crotch, retaliates by punching me in the gut.
I’m gasping for breath, my body aching and bruised. I struggle to stand in front of Claire. A warm stickiness pours down the side of my face. Must have cut my head on a rock when I was on the ground.
Meathead’s sporting several bruises on his face. He and his friends stop hitting me, and they glare, their breathing ragged too. “Fuck with me again and see what happens to you next time, asshole,” he says, spitting blood at my feet. They stalk off and get in the truck, the tires screeching as they turn around and drive away.
I sag against my car and try to steady my breath, calm down the adrenaline rush in my body. Claire is silent beside me, her arms wrapped around herself as she shakes.
“You’re okay, right?” I ask, turning toward her. My right eye fucking hurts, and I think I ripped my stitches open on my shoulder. It’s stinging like a bitch.
When her eyes connect with mine, I feel like I’ve been slugged in the gut again. The disgust and horror I see in her gaze steals my breath.
“No, I’m not okay,” Claire says to me in a deadly quiet tone. “I just watched you get the shit beat out of you, and they threatened to hurt me. And it’s because you apparently roughed that guy up first.” She pauses. “Tell me the truth, Jamison. Did you harass him or not?”
I open my mouth, wanting to lie, wanting to say the guy was full of shit. Wanting to say that we could’ve robbed him and kicked the shit out of him, but we chose not to. There’s so much I could say, to explain that I’m the one who keeps my brothers from doing the kind of shit those guys did to me just now.
I need so badly to defend myself, point out that I did everything I could
to protect her, keep her safe.
My jaw tightens into an uncomfortable clench. I want to argue back, but she’s right. My pulse throbs in my throat. Yeah, I tried to defend her, but if my brothers and I hadn’t harassed him in the first place, this wouldn’t have occurred.
Tears well in her eyes. I can see multiple emotions flooding her beautiful face—fear, anger, confusion. Her nostrils flare, and a tear drips out of one eye. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asks.
I give a small shrug with my good shoulder. “I fucked up, but I did my best to keep you protected.”
“What I need protection from is you,” she says, and the words stab me right in the heart. “Your illegal activities put both of us in danger. Is this what life with you is like? Do you just…fight your way through everything? Are these the kinds of things that happen when we’re not together?” Her eyes are flooded with judgment.
I swallow. My eyes tell her all she needs to know.
Claire gives a strangled little laugh. “I thought the first time we met that you’d learn from your trip to the hospital. But it’s clear you didn’t learn anything. I don’t know who you are, except that you’re a thug and a bully.”
“You do know me,” I protest. I try to reach over to touch her, but she jerks away.
“Take me home, Jamison,” she says in a shaky voice. She won’t look at me now. Shame floods me.
“Red, we should talk about this,” I start, but she interrupts me in a flat tone before I can say more.
“No, we shouldn’t talk. There’s nothing else to say. I can’t…I can’t do this with you anymore. You’re irresponsible and reckless. I can’t trust you, and I’m sure as hell not safe with you.”
I want to tell her she’s wrong. But she isn’t wrong.
I fucked this up big time. She sees only the bad in me now, despite my efforts these past few weeks to show her my good sides.
But maybe I don’t have any good sides, not in reality. Maybe I was fooling myself. I needed her so badly that I was willing to act like someone I’m not, someone I could never be—just to have her for a brief moment.