by Sophie Oak
could practically feel the blood pulsing. With shaking hands, he slid
the condom on. He managed it and then pressed his cock to her
soaking flesh, making his dick wet and ready to fuck. He slid through
her labia before lining himself up to her pussy.
She was so tight this way. She was tight and perfectly helpless
underneath him. He wished he’d taken off her shirt. She should be
naked, but there was no time. He had to get inside her. He pressed in
and held her hips. This was what he’d needed for months.
Under him, Jennifer was trying to push back against him, trying to
take him deeper inside.
“Calm down, love,” Stef said, running his hands along her skin.
He reveled in the connection between them. One hand at her waist, he
let the other force its way to her breasts. Her nipples were little
pebbles against his fingers. “Let me take control. Don’t fight me.”
She stilled beneath him. Her willingness to trust him gave him the
control he needed. Her pleasure was at stake, and he didn’t intend to
fail her. He pressed in, her cunt tight all around him. He pushed in
until he was plastered against her, his legs flush against her thighs, her ass pressed against his stomach.
“You feel perfect,” he said as he twisted his hips. The sensation
raced from his cock up his body.
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He pulled out a short distance and then pressed back in. He loved
the sound of her pussy sucking at his cock. Regretfully, he slid his hand back down her body and circled her waist for better support. He
reached around to find her clit with his fingers. He pressed on the
little nub in time with his thrusts. He wouldn’t last. She felt too good, and it had been far too long for him to last any length of time. He
wanted her with him so badly. He circled his hips, seeking her G-spot
while his fingers rubbed at her clitoris.
She went wild beneath him. Her whole body shook as she came.
She pushed back as she screamed out her orgasm.
Her pussy spasmed around him, and he couldn’t hold back. His
balls drew up, and he forced his cock as deep as he could go. His own
moan filled the room as he came. He ground into her again and again,
until he was empty. He let himself fall forward on top of her, his chest to her back. He let himself relax, a pleasant languor infusing his
blood.
“Thank you, Stef,” she said, pressing her cheek up to his, seeking
connection. “I know you don’t believe me, but I missed you. I missed
you so much. I won’t leave again.”
He could feel her heart pounding against his, but now his sleepy
pleasure was replaced with panic. What had he done? That hadn’t
been sex. He’d made love to Jennifer again, and she was promising
him things. She was saying exactly what he wanted to hear.
Stef pulled himself up and quickly cleaned up, tucking the used
condom into a tissue and tossing it into the trash can. He righted his clothes and turned to her.
She’d managed to stand up, and she looked so young and sweet
standing there.
“Too much, too soon, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered. “I need to
get you home. It’s getting late.”
She held her hands out. “Fine. I’ll play it your way, Stef.”
He quickly unbound her hands, and she pulled her pants up.
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Stef did not miss the final phrase she uttered.
“For now.”
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Chapter Nine
Alexei stopped and stared at the big screen outside his motel
room. He felt a smile cross his face. The movie was something in
black and white with an old American actor. He searched his memory.
Cary Grant, he thought. It was a screwball comedy that he’d seen
before, and it never failed to make him laugh.
There were at least twenty cars out in the parking lot of the drive-
in portion of the Bliss Movie Motel. There were even a couple of
people huddled in lawn chairs close to the snack bar. They held mugs
of something hot and passed popcorn between them. The rooms all
around him had open curtains that people watched out of. He’d had to
move quickly to not block the show.
Only one room was dark. His. He hoped Ivan was still sleeping.
He paused outside the door because he knew what it meant to go
in. It meant he had to go back to work. It meant he had to leave this
happy time he’d managed to find. He preferred to stand in the cold
and remember the afternoon he’d spent teaching two awkward
preteens how to handle a hockey stick. That had felt good. It felt right to teach something that brought joy. He’d even enjoyed the time he’d
spent with the crusty doctor, though the man hadn’t warmed to him at
all.
It had been very easy to forget for a moment why he was here.
After he’d spent a few hours with the boys and the doctor, he’d
headed back to Stella’s, where he had dinner and then moved on to
the tavern next door for a drink.
That was where he remembered.
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The girl was here. Jennifer. That was her name, and it looked like
she wasn’t alone. He’d been surprised when the whole bar had
stopped and a good portion of the patrons moved into a small hall
where they kept whispering to each other and shushing anyone who
became too loud. When the door everyone was interested in had
opened, a couple had emerged to triumphant shouts and catcalls, and
one large man who claimed they’d ruined his desk forever.
He’d recognized her immediately. She was the brunette from the
photo, the one they were looking for. His heart had seized as he
realized that perhaps the job would not go as easily as he had hoped.
The man with her had been shocked at first at the large crowd
listening in on his lovemaking session, but he’d scooped the woman
into his arms and scowled at everyone he passed. He was obviously
protective of the woman.
Alexei would have to get her alone. He would have to try to
reason with her. Perhaps if he kept quiet about having found her, he
could distract Ivan. Once he had the painting in hand, he could force
them to leave quickly and with no bloodshed.
Cary Grant took a pratfall that had everyone laughing. What
would it be like to live in this small town? Quiet and protected. If he was ordinary, he would march back to the diner and invite Holly to
come out with him. He would buy her popcorn and make sure she
could see the movie screen. He would treat her like a lady.
Alexei knew that wasn’t going to happen. He shoved the key into
the lock and opened the door to his room. The best he could hope for
was a good night’s sleep, with no dreams of blood and screams.
He closed the door behind him quickly. The room was warm. He
didn’t want to let in the chill. It was very quiet, with the single
exception of the faucet in the bathroom running. Ivan was awake. The
room had been neatly kept. Only one of the two double beds was
slightly askew from Ivan’s nap. He hadn’t straightened
A low hum came from the bathroom.
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Alexei’s blood chilled. Ivan only hummed after a job, one he
particularly loved. He only hummed after he’d drawn blood.
With reluctant hands, he pushed open the bathroom door.
“Watch it,” Ivan said. A wide grin was on his face as he washed
blood off his skin. His shirt was off, showing his chest and its intricate tattoos. “Careful where you walk. I don’t want to get blood
everywhere.”
Alexei’s stomach rolled. In the bathtub was a pale, slim brunette,
her brown eyes open but unseeing. Her throat had been slit by a
professional.
“It wasn’t her,” Ivan said gruffly. “I thought I had got lucky. I
picked her up outside a gas station when I went to fill the tank. She
was trying to hitchhike. I thought she was trying to get away.
Apparently, she’s just some tourist who fought with her boyfriend.
Bah, it looked like her.”
Alexei swallowed but tried to contain his nausea. It was one thing
to kill other thugs, but this was different. He’d killed rival mob
members who were out to kill him. This was flat-out murder, and he’d
had a hand in it.
“We need to get rid of her before the cleaning crew comes in the
morning,” Ivan said as he reached for a cigarette. He lit it quickly and seemed completely at ease as he looked down at his handiwork.
Alexei had to give him credit. Ivan was a professional. There
wasn’t a drop of blood outside the tub. The woman’s body was small
and fit into the tiny, utilitarian tub neatly. They could wash away the blood. They couldn’t wash away the body.
“Come, my friend, don’t look so down,” Ivan said, stretching.
“We’ll get rid of this one and start again tomorrow. She’s out there.
We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”
Ivan walked out of the bathroom, mumbling something about a
tarp. Alexei was left with a girl who couldn’t be more than twenty-
five. She was about the same age that Mikhail had been when a
gangster had murdered him and left his body in the river. He didn’t
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know her name. His heart ached because someone out there would
miss her.
And he knew how that felt.
* * * *
Sunlight filtered into Jen’s room. She could feel it on her face, but
she wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet. She wanted to stay in that
amazing dream she was having, the one where Stef didn’t fight her
anymore, where he understood she was different and they would be
okay.
Unfortunately, that had not been how her evening had ended. She
took a deep breath and shifted, her mind playing out the fiasco that
had happened after she’d gotten Stef to make love to her.
It had been utterly ridiculous for him to think for a second that she
had a thing for James Glen. The cowboy was hot, but he had nothing
on Stef. And Logan was even worse. Logan was still a kid. He was
barely…twenty-two. Damn it. Logan was almost her age.
It wasn’t the same, she argued mentally. Logan still lived at home,
and Jen had been on her own most of her life. Her mom had loved
her, but she wasn’t exactly a “dinner on the table at six” mom. Jen
had learned to take care of herself at a young age. She was surely
more mature than Logan.
Now Zane Hollister and the rest of Bliss—she was questioning
their maturity. Who stood outside a locked door and listened in on
two people making passionate, beautiful love? Who cheered when the
door came open?
Of course, the proper way to handle such an awkward situation
was to be brazen through it. Jen would have just taken a bow, but Stef had to play the caveman. Stef, who had public sex in BDSM clubs, if
the stories were correct. Stefan Talbot, Mr. Dark and Brooding
Sexuality himself, had turned a bright red. He’d hauled her up into his arms and growled at anyone who got in his way. He’d had a few
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choice words to say, and then they’d been off. He’d shoved her on the
back of the snowmobile and told her to hold on.
Then he’d dumped her in her room.
So much for making love.
She wasn’t giving up, though, she promised herself as she tried to
pull the covers up. After talking to Callie, she was more certain than ever that Stef just needed a little push. Of course, she’d thought that was what she’d given him when she’d leaned over Zane’s desk and let
him use that ruler on her ass. She could still feel it. It had hurt, but there was something erotic about the pain.
There was nothing erotic about the chill, though. She tugged, but
the blanket wouldn’t move. Jen sat up, and her heart melted, the chill of the morning gone the instant she saw the man who had fallen
asleep at the foot of her bed.
“Stef?”
He came up so fast he started to roll off the bed. His body hit the
hardwood floor, and he cursed. His hand came up to hold his head.
Jen held the covers back. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.
He still had to be cold. Though she expected a fight, he immediately
crawled under the covers.
“Stay on your side, but open your legs,” he demanded in a husky
voice.
The morning was looking up. Jen hauled one leg up slightly to
give his hands entry. She screamed when it wasn’t his hand he put
there.
Stef’s ice-cold feet found a place between her nice warm thighs.
“Please, Jennifer. I’m so cold.”
Jen growled but lowered her leg, making a nest for his cold feet.
She shivered, but Stef sighed with pleasure. He huddled close to her,
his body at a silly angle so he didn’t have to move his feet.
“I hate being cold.”
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“Hello, maybe you shouldn’t live nine thousand feet above sea
level.” Jen felt her teeth chatter as his ridiculously cold hands settled on her waist.
“I was born in Texas. Heat is in my blood, but I got to Bliss as fast
as I could,” he said.
She was still cold, but the idea that her body heat was warming
him gave her such pleasure she didn’t complain. “Why didn’t you just
hop into bed with me? It’s warm under the covers.”
His mouth turned down. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“You just meant to come in and stare at me while I slept? That’s
very creepy of you, Stef,” Jen said, softening it with a smile. He was weird and intense. She was cool with it. It was just who he was. He
could stare at a canvas for hours before he even opened a tube of
paint. She remembered one afternoon where he’d stared at that blank
sheet, and she’d stared at him, the hours rolling by as they were both lost in their own worlds.
“I’m not usually so weird,” Stef said, his voice calm, but she
heard the gravity in it.
“Really?” Jen couldn’t help the sarcasm. He was absolutely the
weirdest person she knew, and that was saying something. “Let’s see,
one, you’re an artist, and a really well-known one. That’s strike one.
Artists are weird. Two, you’re a Dom. You like to spank girls and tie
them up, and there are things in that guesthouse that I don’t even
know what they’re used for.”
His feet rubbed against her skin. “When did you go to the
guesthouse?”
“Callie took me. I was curious. She even showed me where the
peepholes and the hiding spots are. Per—vert. As for your third strike, you live in Bliss. You’re out. Just own up to it.”
“I never claimed I was normal, Jennifer,” Stef replied. “But then,
anyone who claims to be normal is probably lying or miserable
because they don’t know their own natures. Humans are freaks. It’s
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better we accept it. Are you going to deny that you liked your
spanking last night?”
A warm rush of arousal poured over her. “Not on your life. Don’t
misunderstand me, babe. I love every freaky inch of you. You might
be a complete perv, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. If it
makes you happy to sleep at the end of my bed like some crazy
stalker, then I’m fine with it, but you could have crawled in with me.”
He pulled his feet away, and suddenly his hands cupped her face,
and his eyes were a serious, stormy gray. “This is a bad idea, but I
don’t think I can stay away from you.”
Finally, some progress. She snuggled close and was perfectly
happy when his arms crept around her. “I don’t want you to. I never
wanted you to.”
“You might after you figure out what I want,” he murmured. His
hand stroked her hair as he spoke. “I want to train you. I want a
Master/sub relationship. It’s all I can do, Jennifer. For the time it takes to clear up everything, I think we should play together. I’ll understand if you don’t want that. I think we’ll end up in bed either way.”
She didn’t want to stay out of bed. And he was fooling himself if
he thought all he wanted was a D/s relationship. “I’ve read up on
BDSM. I might be a novice, but I know a little something.”
His hands were creeping up the tank top she was wearing. “Are
you sure? I can be a bit demanding when it comes to play.”
He was already demanding. He already pushed and pulled her this
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