by J. E. Parker
“I want you to touch me,” I told him, feeling desire thicken the blood rushing through my veins, pressing my mind to the brink of becoming crazed. “I want you to touch me, and I don’t want you to stop. Not until I lose the ability to both stand and scream.”
Something inside him snapped.
And before I took a single, much-needed breath, he gripped the hem of my dress and tore it over my head, leaving me standing there, the steam of the running shower caressing my overheated skin, clad in only a lace-covered baby pink bra and matching thong.
“When tomorrow comes, and you can’t walk—” he lifted me into the air and over his shoulder, earning a surprised yelp from me “—remember that you asked for it.”
Fully clothed, he turned and placed me, still half-naked, in front of the open shower door, before fisting his shirt behind his neck. His right bicep bulged at the move, and I gulped.
Just breathe...
Hands going to my hips, I shot him a challenging look, the erratic thrumming of my heart filling each of my limbs. “Do your best, Guapo, because I need—”
He ripped his shirt off, making my mouth run dry, and the words that sat on the end of my tongue die. Cristo, he was gorgeous. All hard planes and rock-hard muscle, his sculpted body was a stark contrast to my soft one.
It was almost intimidating.
Before I could give myself time to think about it, letting the self-doubt that lingered in the back of my mind steal the moment, I did the one thing I never thought I’d do while standing nearly naked in front of a man whose pant-covered cock appeared hard enough to drive nails.
I lunged for him.
My back met the shower wall with a thud.
The hit was jarring, almost oxygen-stealing, but I cared little about the impact as I twined my legs around James’ hips the second he picked me up after having stripped our clothes off, lining my exposed center up with his throbbing length, and looped my arms around his neck.
Starved for one another, our lips crashed, mouths devouring each other’s essence as our tongues dueled, and his adept fingers caressed my culo, sending little zips of pleasure down my thighs and up into my throbbing core, drawing wetness from the very place I wanted to feel him the most.
A frustrated whimper escaped me when he ripped his mouth from my hungry one and sunk a lone hand into my messy hair before trailing his scorching tongue down my arched neck.
“Guapo, please,” I begged, working on undulating my hips against him, seeking the fricción my body craved as he nipped the juncture of my shoulder with his perfect teeth. “I need...”
“You need what?” He pumped his hips forward, bumping the crown of his cock against my needy clit.
My head dropped back, smacking the tile. “That!” I cried out, panting even though we’d only just begun, and he’d hardly touched me. “I need more of... that.”
He chuckled, the sound maddening. “Tell me what you want first, baby. My mouth or my cock. Then I’ll give it to you.”
“Both,” I answered without hesitation. “I want both.” Palms sliding over his bunched shoulders, I dug my pink-tipped nails into his tanned skin, the desire to conquer another of my demons hovering at the forefront of my mind. “But first, I want you to put me down so I can take what I want.”
James stilled, his eyes finding mine.
“You want me to stop?”
I shook my head so quickly I’m surprised I didn’t give myself whiplash as I unwound my legs from his hips. “No. Not completely. Just put me down for a momento.”
Whiskey-colored eyes locked on mine, he let me slide down his body without releasing my hair or culo.
Feet finding purchase on the tiled shower floor, I curled my hands around his triceps and turned him. Confusion flitted across his face, but he dropped his hands from my body as warm water sprayed my back, and I nodded toward the built-in shower bench. “Sit.”
“Carmen—”
“Sit, Guapo.”
Doing as I’d demanded, he sat, his thick cock jutting heavenward, making my belly flip and tighten. My nipples grew taut, my center even slicker as I stared at it and dropped to my knees before him, lust consuming me.
Eyes widening and nostrils flaring, he murmured an inaudible curse when I latched onto the courage I desperately needed and circled the root of his cock with my right hand. I then took a deep breath, letting his scent assail me.
I can do this, I told myself.
This is James. This is my Guapo.
Sinking his left hand into my hair, grasping my wet locks tight, he tugged the slightest bit. “Baby, you don’t have to do this,” he started, making my desire to conquer this mountain even stronger. “I’d never ask—”
I dipped my head, taking him into my mouth, neither giving my demons a chance to destroy the wall holding them back nor allowing him to finish speaking.
His taste burst onto my tongue, the salty flavor something I knew I’d crave more of, and my eyes slid closed.
“Carmen, goddamn!”
He grunted when I took him deep into my throat, cheeks hollowing as I sucked hard. My breasts grew heavy as I pulled back, savoring every delicious inch of him, before releasing him with a pop.
I leaned back, a string of spit connected his tip to my lips and continued to pump him with my left hand, where I prayed I would soon wear his ring. Smiling up at him, I licked my lower lip, answering the unspoken question dancing across his pleasure-kissed face.
I’m okay.
My demons aren’t winning this battle.
This victory belongs to me.
“I know I don’t have to,” I whispered, replying to his statement from seconds earlier, “but I want to.” Climbing higher onto my knees, I pressed a wet kiss to his sternum, then trailed my famished mouth down his clenched stomach. “In fact, I think that with just one taste, I may be addicted.”
My culo hit my calves when I dropped back down and took him back into my mouth, once more relishing in the taste of him as he pulsed against my tongue and cursed above me, his muscular thighs quaking against my sides, making me feel more powerful than I ever had before.
Determined to unravel him, both body and mind, I twisted my head and swirled my lips around the broad crown of his cock, then flicked my tongue across the tip before once again taking him impossibly deep.
He hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed, using my muscles to massage him, earning myself a buck of his hips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
My center continued to throb, the feel unbearable as he cursed, his head thrown back, powerful neck corded. Needing to ease the pressure, I slipped my free hand between my shaky legs, not the least bit shy about touching myself in front of him.
With James, I had no inhibitions.
If anything, having him watch me pleasure myself made me burn hotter, intensifying the building ache that seared my insides, eroding what little self-control I still possessed.
Only, before my fingers could find the spot they sought, Guapo jerked his head back down, catching sight of what I was about to do. Eyes flaring, he shook his head and slipped his hands beneath my arms, then stood, jerking me up with him and free of his cock.
I almost screamed in outrage.
“Fuck no!” he bellowed as he reached up and ripped down the handheld portion of the showerhead, nearly snapping the metal casing in half. “If you want to come, baby, then you’re going to do it with me inside of you or not at all.”
Before I could process what was happening, he spun me around so that my back faced him, then sat back down on the bench and pulled me onto his waiting lap. “What are you—”
I snapped my mouth shut when he draped my legs over his outer thighs, spreading me wide open, and lifted me, placing the tip of his cock at my soaked entrance.
“Say yes.” My eyes widened as he changed the setting on the showerhead from a soft spray to a pulsating jet stream. “Carmen, fucking say—”
“Yes!” My back arched, and a scream that was almost glass sh
attering flew from my lips when he jerked me down onto him, plunging his cock deep. “James!”
Reaching around my front, he palmed my left breast, rolling the pebbled peak between his calloused fingers. “Ride my cock.” Releasing me, he slid my hand down to my hip, his arm banded around my front, gripping me. “And don’t stop until you come all over me.”
Unable to form a coherent reply, I nodded and leaned forward, placing my palms on his hard thighs, giving myself the leverage I needed to move. Taking a breath and allowing myself a minute to get used to the feel of him so deep, deeper than he’d ever been, I circled my hips, testing our connection.
Thankfully, I felt no pain.
Only indescribable pleasure.
“Dios mío,” I half cried, half moaned as my walls hugged him tightly, waves of pleasure rippling through me. “Guapo, you feel—” I bit into my bottom lip “—sooo good.”
“Yeah?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “If you think that feels good, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
My head dropped back, my lips parting on a silent scream when he directed the showerhead’s stream between my legs, right where I needed it most.
Vision flashing white, the orgasm I could already feel building hurtled forward. But before I could grasp the inevitable explosion to come, he removed the spray, stopping the detonation I craved.
Cristo, I was going to matar him!
I almost told him as much too, but came up short of doing so when he quickly moved me. First, I was in the air; next, my shaking hands and trembling knees were finding purchase on the no-slip tile floor.
Then he was behind me.
“I wanted you to ride me, but clearly, that would’ve been a struggle.” Sliding the head of his cock along my slit, he moaned, low and deep. “So it looks like I’ll be the one fucking you, Pixie.”
Hot water from the other half of the showerhead rained down on me from above as he wrenched my thighs apart and lined his tip up with my entrance.
Leaning forward, he blanketed my back with his front and curled his right arm around my waist, hand working to once again position the spray where I both wanted and needed it.
It hit my clit, massaging the needy bundle of nerves, wrenching another scream from me. “Oh—”
He slammed his cock deep inside and bellowed—si, bellowed—the sound one of pure euphoria as my tight flesh yielded to his, hugging him.
He gave me no time to adjust, not that I needed it, before pulling back and then driving into me repeatedly, each thrust of his powerful hips pushing me closer to the brink of shattering.
Free hand finding the front of my neck, he held me in place while continuing to pound into me, wrenching scream after scream from deep in my throat. My palms and knees both smarted as they scraped the tile, fighting to hold me upright against the delicious onslaught and building of waves close to cresting in my core.
I cried out, my vision doubling as he nipped my lobe, then hovered his lips next to my ear, sweat mixed with water drenching us both. “I love you,” he whispered, each word lined with a rawness that sent my heart into overdrive. “I love you so goddamn much, Carmen. And I’ll never stop.”
He bucked into me hard, and I shrieked, every nerve ending I possessed firing off pure sparks of blinding pleasure.
“Not”—pump—"fucking”—pump—"ever."
Sliding his hand down from my throat, he wound it around my chest, banding himself to me tighter. Tears fell from my eyes, and I turned my head, my mouth searching for—and finding—his.
I moaned, my legs shaking harder as the band in my lower belly wrenched tighter, and his tongue battled with mine for dominance in a war where both of us were victors.
When my center rippled along his length, he moved the spray closer and doubled his thrusts before taking possession of my mouth once more as the taut band snapped, and I tumbled over the ledge, diving headfirst into a bliss only he could give me.
James followed.
An array of colors exploded behind my eyelids as his movements became shaky, and he thrust into me one final time, planting himself deep as his body shuddered against mine, his muscles growing lax while my center drained him of everything he had to give.
Our heavy breaths filled the steam-filled glass-encased stall as I reached down, too sensitive to withstand the feel a second later, and pushed the showerhead away.
Turning it off with a flick of his thumb, James slipped free of me and lifted me with ease, sitting me on his lap after his culo met the floor.
My body instantly missed the feel of his.
Eyes sliding closed, my head lulled against his shoulder. “That was...”
He chuckled as my voice trailed off, my brain and tongue both unable to formulate the words I wanted to speak.
“It was perfect.” His lips found my temple, where they lingered, the touch of them against me soft and sweet. “Just like you.”
I sighed, the feel of being there with him, sated and seated beneath the shower spray while wrapped in his arms, pure heaven. “Te amo,” I whispered, turning my head and nuzzling my face into his neck. “Thanks to your cock”—I smiled—"I couldn’t say it back earlier, but I need you—"
His thumb slid down my cheek, then over my bottom lip. “I know, baby.” He smiled and adjusted me, pulling me tighter against him. “And as I said before, I love you too.”
Reaching up to the built-in shelf that held various bottles, he grabbed my pink shampoo. Popping open the cap, he poured a generous amount of the rose hip-scented gel into his palm, then met my gaze, a silent question bouncing between us.
“You want to wash my hair?”
He nodded. “Let me, yeah?”
I kissed his jaw, then leaned forward before dropping my head back. If he wanted to wash my hair, I wouldn’t stop him. I should have known, though, that the feel of his hands in my locks, massaging my scalp while cleaning me, would turn into something a lot dirtier.
Which, luckily for me, it did.
Twice.
30
James
“Whatcha looking at, Superman?”
I looked up from where I sat alone on the stairs, an opened black velvet box clutched in my left hand, meeting the Crazy Old Biddy’s curious gaze from where she lurked three feet away after having snuck in without me noticing again.
The woman was like a cat, always silently slinking around. You never heard her.
She just always appeared.
Eyes peering over the top of her purple-framed glasses, she was trying her best to see what I was so enamored with.
“Is that what I think—”
“Yeah, it is.” I glanced back down at the antique ring I’d been staring at for the past hour, memorizing each glint of the blue sapphire that sparkled beneath the light, along with the golden filigree band securing it in place.
“It belonged to my grandmother, then my mother.” It was the only family heirloom she’d owned. “Before Mama died”—my heart cracked, but I pushed back the piercing ache that her unjust death always conjured—”she told me it was meant for my future wife."
Like the volatile little shit I was, I’d rolled my eyes during that conversation. If I could go back, I’d kick my ass for being such a jerk to her during what was supposed to have been an important moment.
She hadn’t deserved my piss-poor attitude.
She had enough to deal with already.
Like my piece of shit father.
Hope you’re burning in Hell, Dad.
Clearing my throat, I shifted in place, refusing to let the past creep back in more than it already had. “But I never even showed it to Dixie, much less used it to propose.” And thank Christ for that because my ex-wife would’ve tainted it. “Guess I knew from the get-go that she and I wouldn’t last.”
Soft footsteps padded against the stairs when Grandmama climbed them, then sat down next to me, bouncing in excitement as she bent forward, fingers holding her glasses in place as she took a better look.
“Well, I’ll be,” she cooed, her southern accent thick. “Now that sparkler is just downright purdy.”
I nodded in agreement. “It is.”
Leaning back, she sat upright, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Your Mama would be doggone proud of you, ya know that?” Her wrinkled hand patted my knee. “I know you had a rough decade and did some stuff that I would’ve castrated you for had I known...”
My eyes slid closed.
“But you’re a better man now,” she continued, not missing a beat. “Better than most, in fact. Besides, all that ugliness that you had a hand in creating? I reckon it led to a whole lot of beauty too.”
Confused as could be, I reopened my eyes. “Alright.” I chuckled. “I admit it, I’m lost. Care to explain—”
“I’m talking about Hendrix, ya big dummy.” She rolled her eyes and I snorted. Apparently, Jade’s antics were rubbing off on everybody. “If you hadn’t done what you did”—fingers finding my side, she pinched me, an endless punishment for all the inexcusable pain I’d caused, no doubt—“then he and Maddie may not have happened."
Not knowing what to say, I remained silent. She was going somewhere with this, and if I dared interrupt, she might have smacked me with her swatter, wherever she may be hiding it.
Or worse yet, had shot me.
“And if my number one granddaughter hadn’t fallen in love with the hoodlum’s brooding behind when she was just a little girl, then she wouldn’t have grown up to become a social worker.” Unrelenting stare glued to mine, she nodded as if every word she spoke made sense. “Then she wouldn’t have found Shelby.”
My stomach twisted.
If Maddie hadn’t found my daughter, then brought her and Lucca, who she’d still been carrying in her belly, back to Georgia—
Hell, I couldn’t even think about it.
“Not to mention, if she hadn’t found Shelby, then they wouldn’t have been able to help save Clara or Ashley Jo when the time came. And if they hadn’t been able to help Clara, she and the boys would be dead by now.”
She huffed, growing madder by the second.