The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Biting back the urge to grab him, I pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the floor. Remembering the scar across my stomach, I instantly cover it with my hands.

  “No,” he says, leaning forward. “You remember the words I said?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “What does red mean?”

  “Stop.”

  “Don’t forget those words,” he warns as he laces his fingers with mine. “They are your safe words,” he pauses as he stares at me. “You’re safe with me, Ally. You’re always safe with me,” he says with conviction.

  Though I trust him completely, anxiety starts to claw at my insides as he gently guides my hand away from my scar. My head shouts for me to say red but my body is in control now and it wants everything Deuce is offering.

  He guides our joined hands between my legs and traces both our fingers over my pussy.

  “Feel that?” he asks as he moves his fingers and wraps his hand around my wrist. Suddenly he’s the one moving my hand, dragging my fingers up and down. I arch against my hand as he makes my fingers spread my lips. Pressing the pads of my fingertips against my clit he continues to dictate the motion of my fingers so I’m circling the bundle of nerves.

  “God, yes,” I whisper as I massage myself.

  Creating the rhythm, setting the pace, Deuce maneuvers my fingers and before I even realize it he pushes two of them deep inside my pussy.

  “That’s it girl, touch yourself. Fuck that pussy nice and slow,” he hisses, letting go of my wrist. Expecting to stop the minute he lets go of me, I surprise myself and spread my legs wider. Pressing my thumb to my clit, I glide my fingers in and out of my wetness.

  “Goddamn,” he mutters as he leans back on his elbows again and watches.

  I start to come apart. My fingers pump to a ferocious pace, chasing the unknown and I cry out as I grind against my hand.

  It feels so fucking good—like every nerve in my body is pulsing.

  Alive.

  I feel alive.

  “Oh my God,” I cry as I fall over the edge.

  “Beautiful,” he says. “Fucking beautiful.”

  His hand closes over my wrist again and he drags my fingers out of me as he wraps his other arm around my waist and pulls me back to stand between his legs. Feeling as if my legs might give out, I pant heavily as I watch him lift my fingers to his mouth. Through my hooded gaze, I watch him take my fingers into his mouth and suck them until he consumes every last drop. When he’s through, he releases my fingers with a pop and stands up.

  “The bra,” he says, jutting his chin to my breasts. “On the floor.”

  My hands tremble as I reach behind me to unclasp my bra. Drawing the straps down my arms, I let it slip out of my fingers and join the rest of my clothes. Sucking in a breath, Deuce stares at me with a hungry gleam in his eyes and I feel myself become wet all over again.

  “What about you?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’, this is all about you tonight.”

  “But I want to feel you. I want to touch you,” I argue, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

  He shakes his head but then he lifts his arms over his head and lets me remove his shirt. My eyes wander over him, taking in all the ink that travels down his neck, decorating his chest and filling his arms. Tracing the intricate piece on his chest, I open my mouth to ask what it is, but he steals the words from my mouth as he bends his head and kisses me. It's slow, exploratory…it’s fucking heaven, that’s what it is.

  A safe haven I never expected to find.

  Lost in the sensation, I’m suddenly lifted into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and tear my mouth from his as I stare into his amber eyes. I see that fire he’s always talking about and it burns for me.

  Dropping me onto the mattress, Deuce unbuckles his belt, then his jeans, stripping them away until he’s standing before me completely naked. His arms flex as he reaches for his cock, giving it a few hard strokes.

  “Let me do that,” I beg.

  “No,” he growls. Fisting his cock with one hand, he swipes his fingers over his engorged head. Glistening with his pre-come he pulls his hand back and kneels on the bed.

  “Spread your legs,” he demands. “Nice and wide.”

  Licking my lips, I plant my feet on the mattress, bend my knees and spread myself as wide as I can.

  “Wider,” he demands. “Until the inside of your thighs ache.”

  Pushing myself to the limit, I widen my stance. My legs cramp but I ignore it as he pushes himself between my legs. He places both palms against my inner thighs, caressing his come into my skin as he dips his head and blows against my swollen pussy. I’m pretty sure my eyes roll behind my head and my hips buck against his breath.

  “What’re you doing to me?” I whisper.

  “Healing you,” he replies, positioning himself between my legs.

  As true as that might be, I’m also sure he’s ruining me for any other man.

  Without even fucking me, he’s made me a prisoner to his touch. Holding me captive with his hands and mouth, Deuce is introducing me to a prison I never want to escape.

  He wraps his massive arms around my knees and presses his mouth to the inside of my right thigh. Anticipation builds in my belly as he spreads kisses up and down my thighs, and just when I think he’s going to put his mouth on the place I crave him most, he pushes himself up and releases my legs.

  “No, don’t stop,” I groan.

  “Not gonna fuck you, sweetheart,” he drawls as he kneels between my legs. “Not tonight,” he clarifies. “We’ll get there,” he states, splaying his hands over my tits.

  “But I thought—”

  “Shh.”

  Spreading his fingers wide over my tits, he gently cups them, running his thumbs over my nipples until they transform into a sharp point. Fully erect, he pinches them between his fingers and I yelp.

  “Say the word,” he says.

  “More,” I demand, watching as he twists both nipples and pulls them. I bite the inside of my cheek as the pain rushes through me and my hips rise off the bed.

  “Again,” I grind out.

  Tugging and twisting with one hand, he drops his head to my other breast, drawing my nipple into his mouth. Sucking it and flicking his tongue over the point he drives me to the brink. Fighting between pleasure and pain, I moan in ecstasy. Needing more, I reach between my legs and palm myself. My hand instantly becomes soaked as I dig the heel of my palm against my clit while his teeth graze my nipple.

  I once thought the most exhilarating thing to do would be jumping out of a plane. I figured there wasn’t a greater adrenaline rush than flying weightlessly through the air with nothing but the wind to guide you back to level ground. However, as Deuce shoves my hand away and crawls down my body, I question anything in this world can make me feel as much as I do the second his tongue touches me.

  Maybe it’s because I’m highly sensitive or maybe it’s because I’ve never been fully in touch with my body, but in this single night, I’ve felt more emotions and more sensations than I have felt in all my life.

  His tongue flicks over my clit as his fingers crook inside of me and I feel my mind, body and soul plunge. As free as I imagined skydiving would feel so does allowing my body to blissfully succumb to a pleasure I’ve never truly known.

  My toes curl and my fingers claw the sheets as I languidly fall back onto the bed.

  “You feel me,” he breathes.

  I do.

  I feel him everywhere.

  I feel him in the blood that’s rushing through my veins.

  I feel him occupying the thoughts inside my head.

  I feel him in my heart with every pounding beat.

  I feel Deuce.

  I feel him.

  And feeling never felt so good.

  -Twenty-nine-

  DEUCE

  If fucking was a talent, I’d win every prize imaginable. Cocky as it may sound, it’s true. If
there’s anything I’m good at it’s sex. Reading a woman’s needs and wants is a gift. Being able to put your own desires aside to deliver her what she needs is an act of self-control. I’m the type of guy who takes pride in watching a woman unravel, knowing I made it fucking possible. Knowing I took care of her before I unleash myself makes it all the more rewarding when I drive my cock into her and ride her like our lives depend on it.

  You see, when I do finally fuck someone, I fuck with no regard.

  I fuck with everything I am and everything I’ll ever be.

  I fuck and I wreck.

  I ruin.

  I take and take until there is nothing left to take, until I own every fucking orgasm she’ll ever have because when we’re through and she’s moved on to another lover, it’s me she’ll be thinking about when she comes. It’s my cock she’ll wish for.

  I know, I know, I’m an arrogant bastard.

  But I’m no liar and that shit is a fucking fact.

  It’s one of the reasons I didn’t fuck Ally. Treading carefully isn’t something I’m used to, but the moment she asked me to touch her, I knew I had to set boundaries for myself. She wasn’t just any girl. She wasn’t a quick fuck or another notch in my belt. She was broken—so fucking broken—and as badly as I wanted her, I needed to be careful.

  In the days since we started living together, I began to notice Ally more. As she came into her own, deciding the woman she wanted to portray, the woman she wanted to be, my attraction grew deeper. It wasn’t just physical, it was the whole package.

  It’s everything.

  The sorrow of her past and the hope for her future. It was the sense of humor she found buried beneath the scars. The sass that drove me nuts and the genuine curiosity I wanted to feed. It was the natural beauty she didn’t even realize she possessed.

  Everything.

  It was all of that, wrapped in a pretty package tied to a smoking body and complete with an ass that had me purposely dropping shit all around the place so she’d bend over and give me a better view of it.

  Those thoughts alone should have sent me for the hills, but then she called me crying and my attraction for her took a back seat to my need to heal, to mend. Still not trusting myself completely, I battled with my conscience, knowing if I crossed that line between us I would be taking on a role I wasn’t sure I was meant for. A role I was sure I’d fail at.

  It was one thing to look after her and help her adjust to her new life, but it was a whole different ball game signing up to be the man who helped her reconnect with her body. As a woman who dreaded sex and only knew of it as a chore, Ally needed to be worked thoroughly. She needed to feel everything, every tiny sensation before she rolled with the waves and crashed into unchartered territory.

  So, that’s what I tried to do.

  I tried to erase what she thought she knew and introduced her into the realm of pleasure, a pleasure she controlled. It was just a taste, a prelude to what could be if she let herself feel instead of wishing to be numb.

  A taste that still lingered on my tongue.

  With every touch and every fucking sweet taste, I talked myself down from fucking her. Painfully aware one wrong move on my behalf could be a trigger for her, my mind talked me through loving Ally. I calculated every touch, second guessed every order I delivered and reminded her she was in control.

  Giving her those safe words were well thought out too. The words no and stop were very much a part of Ally’s life and each time she cried those words they were ignored. This time, she controlled the show and the words red and yellow were hers to command.

  In the end, watching Ally slowly come apart was the most gratifying experience of my life and made suffering from a severe case of blue balls completely worth it. My cock hated me but that was okay, he’d get over it.

  Probably not today though seeing as Ally’s naked body is nestled against mine. After I ate her out and she came a second time, she looked as if she might pass out. Taking her into my arms, she laid her head on my chest and curled the rest of her soft curves against me. She’s been sleeping for two hours and I’ve been staring at the ceiling, torturing myself as I replay the two times she came over and over in my head.

  Glancing at the clock on the nightstand I notice it’s barely eight o’clock. There are still four hours left until her birthday ends, still time to take that ride, providing she wants to. Having learned of her parents’ tragic death set her back a few paces in her recovery and I’m starting to realize she needs more than me.

  As I stroke her silky hair, she stirs slightly, forcing my hand to freeze as she murmurs something in her sleep and rolls off me, burying her face in a pillow. It dawns on me then that she’s slept two full hours without interruption. Without any nightmares haunting her.

  Abandoning any idea to wake her, I carefully slide out of bed and grab my jeans off the floor. Pulling them on, I move to the closet and grab the lockbox from the shelf, something I bought after Ally started staying at the motel with me. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull the key out and unlock it. I take the bag of weed and the rolling papers from the box and take a quick glance over at Ally. Still asleep, I stash the box back on the shelf and search the room for a piece of paper to break up the herb.

  It would be my luck the Bible is the only fucking thing in the room. Knowing I’m not one of God’s favorite people, I rip a page from the leather book—a blank one—I’m not fucking crazy. Me and Satan may tango every now and then, but I’m not about to break up my weed on a scripture. A man’s got to draw the line somewhere.

  Not bothering with a shirt, I step outside and let the cool air settle over me as I take a seat on one of the rattan chairs in front of my room. I roll myself a fat joint and prop my bare feet on the rickety table. The first hit relaxes me and I let my body uncoil as I look out around the parking lot. My gaze lingers on the familiar black car parked in the lot and I try to place where I’ve seen it before. However, I don’t get far because Wolf pulls into the lot like a mad man.

  So much for relaxing.

  Taking another hit, I hold in the smoke as a prospect jumps out of the back seat and hurries to open the passenger door. Dropping my legs from the table, Wolf opens his door. His foul mouth in full effect, bitching about us fucking nomads driving him to an early grave. The prospect helps the passenger out of the truck and I choke on the smoke as Cobra comes into my view.

  What the fuck?

  Coughing up a lung, I shoot a glare at Wolf.

  “Don’t fucking start,” he orders, pointing a finger. “The stupid bastard signed himself out of the hospital.”

  “Where is she?” Cobra grunts. Pressing his hand to his wounds I’m not sure are healed, he limps over to me. Ally’s naked body flashes before me and I drop my joint.

  Motherfuck my life.

  Note to self, don’t fucking play with the Bible.

  Standing up, I quickly side-step to block him from opening the door.

  “She’s sleeping,” I tell him.

  “Well, I want to see her. I need to make her understand none of this is her fault.”

  “Look, I’ve got it under control,” I say, glancing over his shoulder at Wolf. “He shouldn’t be here. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “Right, because I was going to be able to stop him. His old lady nearly shot his dick off and he still insisted on coming here,” he argues.

  “Get out of my way,” Cobra demands, forcing my attention back to him. “Look, Deuce, I appreciate everything you’ve done for her while I’ve been laid up, but she’s my sister and it’s my job to help her.”

  “I said she’s sleeping,” I growl, crossing my arms against my chest as I meet his glare. “The girl don’t fucking sleep without waking up screaming…let her be. She’s peaceful right now. You want to help her then come back tomorrow when she’s had time to digest the fact her fucking parents are dead.”

  Cobra’s eyes narrow as he forces himself to stand tall. His fists clench at his sides and I k
now in that moment I’m fucked.

  “Ruger,” Cobra calls, signaling for the prospect. “Kick open the door.”

  “Oh fucking hell,” Wolf mutters. “Just let him see his fucking sister, Deuce.”

  “You don’t want to go in there,” I tell him, holding my stance.

  “Why is that?” Cobra snarls.

  Staring back at him, I weigh my options. If I say nothing, I’m automatically a pussy. If I tell him his sister is sprawled out on my bed, I’m the douche who took advantage of her. Either way, I’m fucked and likely to get my ass kicked. Well maybe not, he’s injured. Still, I bet he wouldn’t hesitate in shooting me.

  “You know why,” I say finally.

  Then before he can fucking kill me the door opens behind me.

  Please let her have clothes on.

  God Almighty, please.

  Tearing my eyes away from Cobra, I glance over my shoulder at Ally. She’s wearing nothing but my t-shirt and she smiles sheepishly at me.

  Fuck, she’s pretty when she smiles.

  That’s the last coherent thought I have before Cobra’s fist collides with my cheek.

  Fucking girl is going to get me killed.

  But at least I’ll die with her on my mind.

  Or better yet, at my side.

  -Thirty-

  DEUCE

  “What the hell did you do that for?” Ally shouts.

  Spitting blood, I turn to face Cobra as Ally steps between us and glares at him. Reaching for her, I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her back.

  “Ally, come on, stop. It’s fine,” I mutter. Rubbing my cheek, I stare over her head at Cobra. “Looks like you’re healing, brother,” I sneer.

  Given the state he’s in, the motherfucker could still pack a fucking punch. Ignoring me, he stares at his sister and points to the motel.

  “Get your shit and let’s go,” he demands.

  Automatically I flinch at his orders. I know Ally well enough to know she’s not going to take kindly to anyone’s orders—not even her brothers.

  “What? No,” she replies defiantly, shaking her head in confusion. “What are you even doing here?”