by Elle Casey
My heart is aching now. As my mouth was running off without my brain, something came out I hadn’t considered. Maybe this is one of those sex for work exchanges. Maybe that’s all he meant when he invited me into his bed.
I grit my teeth as I wait for his response, totally preparing myself for the worst. Finally looking at his face and finding his expression so stern, it feels like the worst case scenario is in my very near future. Seconds tick by and turn into a minute. We don’t even get into the second one before I’m folding.
“Jesus, would you please say something?”
“You really think I’d do that?” he says suddenly. “Ask you for sex to keep your job?”
I shrug. “How am I supposed to know?” Frustration takes over my tone. “You come on all strong and sexy one day, then you leave me cold the next and avoid me for a whole week … and then suddenly act like a jealous turd and ask me to sleep in your bed! You put your arm around me, which I liked a lot by the way so you totally suck if you were just playing me, and now here you are getting all mad again. Hello! Frustration! Welcome to my world!”
The anger in his face eases off a notch. “You want me to talk more?”
Throwing my arms up I give a half-choke, half-scream. “Deeerg! … Yes!” I stare at him, arms stiff by my sides. “I’ll donate ten percent of every paycheck to the Rebel Learns to Share fund if that’s what it’ll take.”
“I’ve never been much of a talker. I’m more of a thinker.”
“Thinking without talking is selfish.”
He frowns. “Says who?”
“Says the girl who really wants to know what you’re thinking but also the girl who you’re withholding vital information from.”
He holds out his hand. “Come sit with me.”
I point to my feet. “They aren’t moving. I’d like for them to, but I have some sort of temporary paralysis.”
Without a word, he steps over and lifts me up in his arms like a giant baby, carrying me over to the couch and setting me down next to him. He stares at the television in front of us.
“I don’t mean to be selfish with my words,” he finally says.
“I know. And I don’t mean to make you feel bad about being shy.”
“I’m not shy. It’s just that I don’t like to waste words, I guess.” He looks over at me, and I see a tortured expression there.
Guilt settles like a cloak over my shoulders. I’ve lived enough years with my father to know what it feels like to be criticized for just being myself. I hate that I’ve become that man.
My tone softens. “Just feel free to go ahead and ignore most of what I said tonight, okay? You’re fine exactly how you are. I didn’t mean any of it.”
“No, you’re right. About most of it, anyway.” He sighs and turns his head to more fully face me. “I sent you a lot of mixed signals this week, and that wasn’t fair.”
A tentative smile moves across my face, but I don’t allow myself to get too happy over what he’s saying. There’s another shoe that’s going to drop here somewhere. I just have to wait for it.
He turns back towards the television and scrubs his hands through his hair. “Frustrating.”
“Sorry.”
He drops his hands and looks at me again. “No, not you. Me. I’m frustrated with myself.”
“Why?” Here it comes. Truth serum. Whatever you do, Teagan, don’t cry.
“I didn’t want you to work here.”
Pain slices through my chest. I knew it. I forced him. He hates me.
“As soon as I saw you, I knew you were going to be trouble.”
Double the pain. Double the regret. Time to double down on the strength needed to not cry. Steady…
“There’s just something about you that twists me up inside. Makes me want to be different.”
The pain eases up a tad. “What does that mean?”
His lips press together like he’s going to stop sharing, but he surprises me by answering. “Do you ever want to step outside who you are, who you’ve been your whole life, and just be someone else for a day or a week?”
“No, not really. I am who I am.”
“Yes. You’re someone who can talk about what’s on her mind. You feel things. You go balls out and don’t worry about the consequences. I’d like to be that kind of person once in a while.”
“Instead you’re …?” I love that he’s talking and don’t want him to stop. It’s a sad story he’s telling, but at least it’s a story.
“I’m the guy who holds it together. The person who takes all the worry for everyone else and holds it in his arms. I don’t have the luxury to just say and do whatever I want.”
My throat closes up as tears threaten. I had made this whole thing about my feelings and my libido, never once considering that he had issues to deal with that might be interfering. “I’m sorry,” I finally say, my voice rough.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I just … I unloaded on you and that was really unfair. I should have known you have shit going on that was important too.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m not saying this as an excuse. There is no excuse for what I did. I like you, Teagan.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “I mean, I like you. You know? But I haven’t had time or space in my life for anything like that in a long time. Maybe ever. So I just tried to block it out and make it go away.”
“It … you mean me.” The ache comes again. I’m afraid my heart isn’t going to be able to take much more of these stabbing pains before it just quits working altogether. Why did I ever want him to start talking? Totally bad idea.
“I mean everything you represent.” He sighs loudly. “You’re not like a regular girl.”
I snort as a bitter laugh bubbles up to the surface. “Tell me about it.” Weirdo from the word go. That’s what he’s thinking. I feel so fucked up right now, I just want to go lock myself in the bathroom again.
“I’m not a monk. I’m not saying I’ve shut myself away from women all my life. I’m saying I’ve kept myself from getting involved with anyone special.”
At the word special my head comes up. “Special?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m trying to say. When you came in that first day, I knew you were special. When I saw you at the club later, it hit me again. It’s why I kept your license, you know.”
My heart flips over at that little revelation. I almost don’t believe it. The stone-cold bouncer statue at the door was sweating me like I was sweating him? No way. “I thought you said trouble. I was trouble. And how does keeping my license figure into the whole thing?”
“Trouble. Special. Same difference.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I kept it. Maybe I saw it as insurance that I’d see you again. I was asking for trouble. Instead, I got something special.”
“I’ll bet when I cleaned your office for free you were thinking I was special, all right.” I’m being sarcastic. When he says special now, I’m thinking short bus.
“Well, that was special too, but in a different way.” He smiles at me, and the only thing I can think to do is punch him, so I go ahead and indulge my baser emotions and do just that.
His hand flies up and grabs my fist in mid-air. He holds it there between us for a few seconds before slowly moving it to his mouth and kissing it.
My insides go all gooey as our fingers weave together and our hands move to rest on the couch between us. I can’t believe I almost hit him. Now all I want to do is sexty-nine him.
“Teagan, I can’t promise you anything. I work seven days a week to keep this business afloat and my brothers out of trouble. I don’t always succeed at that last part, but I’ll go straight to hell trying. I should probably tell you to pack your things up and go because that would be better for you, but I can’t.”
He pushes our hands firmly into the couch for a couple seconds and then lets them go slack again. “I want you here. I miss you when you’re gone.” He drops his gaze to the couch. “And I’m
not proud to say that I get jealous when I think about you with another guy.” He looks at me to deliver his coup de grace. “So I guess you could call me selfish again because I’m asking you to stay, even though it’s very possible this isn’t going to end well.”
My heart is spasming and tears are very near the surface. He’s said way too much and not enough. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing will come out. We’ve had a complete role reversal here and the irony is not lost on me one bit. Oh, how the mighty blabbermouth has fallen.
Our eyes meet and we stare at each other for a few seconds. And then my body finally saves the day by going into auto-pilot. I lean towards him at the same time as he leans towards me, and our lips meet in the middle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
A SENSE OF DÉJÀ VU threatens to overwhelm me as I feel his hard body pressing into mine, but I refuse to let it take over and ruin the moment. I will not think about what happened the last time I was in this position with him.
Rebel’s hands slide down my arms and then move to my ribcage. His fingers span both my sides, making me feel tiny and controlled by this giant man. I’m loving every second of it.
I squeak in surprise when he lifts me up and puts me on his lap, but I quickly adjust my legs so I have one on either side of him. We don’t stop kissing the entire time. I cannot get enough of his lips and tongue or the feeling of his bulge pushing into my soft parts.
A moan escapes when he puts his hand on my neck and on my lower back as he pulls me deeper into his kisses. I press against him but it’s not enough. I can’t get closer or feel him through my clothes to get any satisfaction. All I manage to do is ramp up my frustration several more notches.
Things are moving much faster this time than the last. Where before I shivered as his hands slowly slid across my skin, tonight I’m writhing as they grab and massage everywhere, and his arms wrap around me like steel bands. Some kind of animal madness is taking me over, making me want to devour him.
My world tilts when he stands and takes me with him. I cling to him like a koala bear as he strides across the room.
“Where are we going?” I ask breathlessly, finally taking a break from kissing him. I know the answer to my question, but I still want to hear him say it. I can barely see his face in the light coming into the windows. His expression is dead serious and he looks almost scary. I’m so glad I’m on his good side and not the bad one. A shiver of expectation runs up my spine knowing this great big beast of a man is about to fuck me senseless.
“To bed,” he says, grabbing my ass with both hands and squeezing. It opens me up and makes me want to grind into him, but I can’t because I’m floating above the floor trying not to fall.
He doesn’t bother turning on the light and then we’re falling.
I scream a second before we hit the soft bed on our sides and a poof of air rises up from the covers.
Rebel detaches himself from me long enough to pull his shirt over his head before he’s all over me again.
I love the feel of his scratchy face against the tender skin of my cheeks and then my neck and chest. He’s all man and probably way more than I can handle, but right now I’m going to try and forget all about that.
My reasoning mind tries to turn on and have an internal discussion with the rest of my brain about whether this is a good idea, but I tamp it down and force it to fall into a coma. I am not going to screw this up by thinking about it; I’m just going to live in the moment and deal with the fallout later. Rebel hasn’t promised me anything but a good screw at this point, and that’s all I need to worry about right now.
All I can focus on is getting naked and feeling his skin against mine, which is a good thing, since he’s moving faster than I have time to process.
He pushes my shirt up to get to my breasts and I help him pull it over my head. My lacy bra comes off with one flick of his fingers, and the cool air combined with his hands on me make my nipples go hard. They actually ache with need. I can already almost imagine what it will feel like to have his mouth on me, and it’s making me crazy with anticipation.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait long. Before my bra hits the ground, he has his mouth first on one breast and then the other, sucking, licking and even nipping as his hands massage and squeeze them into peaks.
I growl with excitement as he pinches my nipple with one hand and his lips come up to my mouth again. I can taste the salt he’s pulled from my skin. I don’t even realize he’s working on my pants with his free hand until they’re halfway off my hips.
“You move fast,” I mumble against his mouth.
His hand leaves my pants and goes still over me. “Is that bad?” His voice is strong, but I know with all my heart he’ll stop right now if I tell him to.
I take his hand in mine and put it back on my pants, using it to push the waistband down again. “No. It’s good. Hurry up with that hurrying up, would you?”
He growls low in his throat and then stands up all of a sudden. With two yanks, he has my pants off and then my underwear too. I hear them drop to the floor across the room.
“Hey, no fair! You’re still dressed.”
He’s standing at the edge of the bed looking down at me, his wide muscular chest barely visible in the dark room. He’s a giant, hulking figure of a man and maybe I should be scared that he’s almost twice my size and about to hammer me into the mattress, but I’m not. I’ve been waiting for this for a week. Maybe since the first time I laid eyes on him. Maybe my whole life, who knows. So far he seems like a seriously sexy dream come true. I pray the reality will outshine my wildest dreams.
Sitting up, I grab the waistband of his jeans. Making quick work of getting the button and zipper undone, I push the thick denim down and take his heavy dick in my hand. It’s like warm steel with a velvet-soft cover, restless in my hand the way it keeps jerking up. I slide my hand up and down it experimentally but only get a few strokes in before he’s pushing me onto my back again.
After putting a condom on in record time, he crawls up to hover over me. “You ready for me?” he asks.
I open my lips to respond, but I’m not quick enough. Without waiting for my answer, he puts his hand between my legs and slides a finger into my folds, immediately stopping whatever words were going to come out of my mouth.
I gasp with his unexpected touch and then squirm as his fingers and the palm of his hand start doing something to me that I’ve never felt before.
“Oh, God …” It’s the best I can do. My brain is officially mush. Everything is slippery and hot under his hand, and I have an ache inside me that I know only he can soothe. If he leaves me hanging again, I’m liable to kill him with my bare hands. “Rebel, please…”
“Please what?” he asks, circling his fingertip over my hard nub.
My hips cannot sit still. The more he does whatever it is he’s doing, the more I want to press myself up against him. “Please… finish this.”
“How do you want me to do it?” he whispers, his face closer to mine, his hand still between us. Now he’s using the head of his dick to rub me down there.
Every time I push up to get near him, to try and bring him inside me, he draws away. It’s making me crazy. I’m freaking out. I have no idea what he wants from me, but I’m getting closer and closer to something that’s overtaking my good sense. Eloquent words and fancy phrases take a back seat to pure desire, the need to be fulfilled no longer deniable.
It’s like he knows I’m standing here on the edge and he’s taunting me into jumping. He’s evil. “Say it,” he urges, his tone almost threatening. All it does is make me hotter.
I cling to his shoulders as I arch up to meet him. I’m whimpering and moaning with the sensations that are coming from my center. I lift my hips once more, trying to get him closer to me.
“Say what?” I finally gasp out when I cannot get close enough to him to ease the ache.
“Tell me what you want.” The head of his dick leaves me and then I’m s
uddenly all alone down there. It’s maddening. No way am I getting this close and getting left behind again. No fucking way.
I grab his shoulders and dig my nails in. My eyes fly open, the cold air between us making me think that I’m about to lose this amazing sensation that’s been building. I panic. He wants to know what I want and I only know one way to say it.
“I want you to take that dick of yours and fuck me with it! Jesus!” The words are gone and I can’t take them back, but I only have about one second of humiliation to batter the regret-center of my brain before he takes over. Apparently, he likes it when I talk stupid and dirty.
His hand expertly guides his hardness to my opening, and then the great weight of his body pushes it forward. He buries himself into me in one long, smooth stroke.
I gasp with surprise, fear, and at last … pleasure.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, my whole body going into tremors.
“Oh, babe…,” he whispers, slowly withdrawing and then plunging in again.
I don’t know how it is two words can have such an effect, but they do. My heart swells to twice its size and a ringing starts in my ears. He called me babe. Warmth spreads out from there and turns me into a puddle of melted goo. I can’t tell where I stop and he starts. The idea of two people becoming one always sounded corny to me before; now … I know exactly what it means.
Our bodies move in perfect rhythm, and we’re moaning together. Sweat builds between us and the scent of our sex surrounds the bed. I never want to leave here. I always want to be in this place, under Rebel’s heavy body and smelling the two of us together.
I angle my hips to greet him, to take more of him in, to get the full benefit of his impossible length and width. Whatever heat he’d built in me before with his fingers is now back full force, but it has the added sensation of his hardness stretching me big time. I could get so used to this.
I pray he doesn’t ignore me next week, otherwise, I’m pretty sure I’ll be arrested for assault and battery. I will so kick his ass if he doesn’t do this to me at least ten more times.
