“Jesus, Ford.” Her breath was coming in pants. “You got good at this.”
“Don’t talk.” Who was this person speaking with his mouth? He was just saying what he wanted, but man, he was a filthy fucker.
This was who he was, and he was going to embrace it this time around. Why the fuck wouldn’t he, when it felt so damn good?
Settling in on the ottoman, he moved his hand up and down his length. He could feel his pulse in his cock, and it jumped when Beth cupped her breasts in her hands and rubbed her thumbs over her nipples.
“Yeah. Like that.” He jerked himself faster, felt pleasure tightening at the base of his spine. His gaze bounced between the clever fingers plucking at her nipples and the pink lips that looked so wet and ready for his cock.
He prayed that she could keep her fingers out of it, because he didn’t know if he had the strength to follow through on his threat.
One of her hands started to travel south, splaying over the soft curve of her belly. Springing forward, he caught her wrist. She cried out as he hauled her up out of the chair, spinning her so that he could lay her out flat on the ottoman.
“I wanted to go slow this time, but you drive me to distraction, woman.” Grabbing his T-shirt at the back of the neck, he tugged it up and off. “I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to fuck you hard.”
“Yes. Now!” She writhed where he’d laid her down. Working her way back until her long hair spilled over one end, she planted her heels on the other edge so that she was still wide-open to him. “I have condoms in my purse. Hurry the fuck up.”
“Still bossy, I see.” He swatted her hip before pulling his wallet from his pocket. “And I’ve got it covered.”
He tore the condom wrapper open faster than he had when he’d lost his virginity, sheathing himself in the latex. Kneeling in front of her, he tucked two fingers inside her hot sheath to make sure she was ready.
She cried out, bucking against his hand. He ran his thumb over her clit and she ground against him, her pussy leaving dampness where it rubbed against his stomach.
“Get ready,” he warned her, lining up the head of his cock with her lower lips.
“Fucking do it already!” She rolled her hips in response, begging him to come inside.
He did. Grabbing her by the hips, he surged inside. She was wet, she was hot, she was heaven on his cock. He pushed as far as he could, grunting when she clawed at his chest.
“I forgot how tight you are.” Finding her clit again, he rubbed small tight circles until he felt her melt around him, letting him in the last inch.
In her to the hilt, he stopped, panting. She was splayed out before him, naked and open, hair damp with sweat, nipple ring glinting in the lamplight, thighs trembling around him.
Something in the area of his heart squeezed. He wanted to panic, but her lips curved into a sexy little smile, and he knew that whatever the hell this was, she felt it, too.
“You feel incredible.” Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over their combined panting. She gave a little wiggle that had his eyes rolling back in his head. “Sir.”
A sound somewhere between a growl and a groan tore from his throat. Clasping her thighs, he placed one of her bent knees on each of his shoulders. She was fully open to him, unable to do more than grab at his biceps as he started to thrust.
“Yes,” she breathed against his shoulder as he rocked up into her. “God, I knew you’d be incredible when you finally let yourself go.”
He’d show her letting go. One of her thighs slipped from his shoulder as he increased his pace. His pelvis made a smacking sound every time he seated himself inside her, and droplets of his sweat fell from his forehead to splatter wetly across her breasts.
Beneath him, she shuddered. He could feel her body tightening, straining toward release.
His thrusts became impossibly harder. She braced her foot on the floor with the leg that had slipped from his shoulder, and he tucked the other up close to her breasts, bent at the knee. Grasping either side of the ottoman to support his weight, he found himself almost fully on top of her. Her head fell back, over the edge of the upholstery, and her lips were parted.
Utter surrender. That was what she looked like to him. She had no trouble giving in to what she wanted—she never had. And here, with her, all of those old voices that told him real men didn’t want this—didn’t want rough sex, didn’t want to boss women around—were silenced.
His orgasm was close. He could feel the tide rising. Bracing himself on one elbow, body stretched out over hers, he pulsed once, twice, three times, shuddering through his release. He caught her nipple ring in his teeth as he shook, and her pussy clenched around him like a vise as she came, too.
* * *
Beth had convinced herself over the years that the sex she’d had with Ford couldn’t possibly have been as good as she remembered. And it wasn’t—it was better.
His weight sprawled out over top of her felt decadent. She couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined her as he pressed his damp forehead against her breast.
“You just about killed me.” He nuzzled against her nipple ring, and even though she’d just come, she felt a tight jolt that shot straight to her core. “Hell of a way to christen the place, though.”
She nodded in agreement. As he peeled himself up off her, then helped her to a sitting position, she found her knees were wobbly. She brushed her hair out of her face as she tried to center herself again.
Instead, as Ford hitched on his jeans, then headed to kitchen to grab two bottles of water from the fridge, she found herself staring at him. This—them together again—felt so incredibly surreal that she kept questioning if it was all a dream.
A nagging little voice in her head tried to peck its way through her postcoital bliss. She hadn’t been with anyone since she’d gotten sick, because she’d wanted to focus on herself, on staying healthy and enjoying the life she’d been given a second lease on.
Well. She’d learned the hard way that life didn’t give a shit about what you’d planned or what you’d wanted.
She wasn’t in any position to be thinking far down the road. She wasn’t sure that she ever would be. But he was here right now, and this time he wanted the same thing she did—to act on that insane chemistry between them.
Ford returned from the kitchen and pressed a water bottle into her hand. When she smiled at him in thanks and their eyes met, something hot and sweet settled into her veins.
Something good, something real had just happened here. And she wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BETH WAS STILL smiling two weeks later as she hovered outside Jo’s door. When her sister didn’t answer her knock, she shifted the scalding mug of coffee to the other hand and banged on the entrance with her fist.
The door shuddered as it finally flew open, revealing her sister’s irritated face. A tuft of black hair stuck out over her ear and she had ink on her nose.
“I come in peace.” Beth held her free hand up, palm out. “Thought you could use a caffeine fix, that’s all.”
“Thanks.” Grabbing the mug, Jo took a large gulp, hissing at the heat. She followed it with a more cautious sip. “You didn’t make this.”
“Nope.” Beth didn’t drink coffee anymore, but when she had, she’d figured that the stronger, the better. She’d been really good at brewing what her sisters called sludge. “Meg brewed a pot, so I stole you a cup. I think she put cinnamon in it.”
“You’re a goddess.” Jo took another sip, then gestured for Beth to come in. “I just finished this chapter. I’m due for a break.”
Beth followed her sister into the room, grimacing as she did. The patchouli scent of the incense that was burning was strong enough to make her eyes water, and it was layered with the burning hint of too many electrical plugs and a staleness t
hat said Jo hadn’t left the room for a while. Without asking, she crossed the small room and cranked open the window, letting fresh air circulate.
Jo settled herself cross-legged on her unmade bed. Beth took the thrift-shop chair that was pulled up to the plywood slab and sawhorse that her sister used as a desk. Legal sheets covered in illegible, cramped handwriting covered the desk, and she caught a glimpse of some very naughty words on the screen of the old laptop before it went to sleep.
“The erotic piece?” She cocked her head toward the computer, wishing she’d brought herself some tea.
“You bet.” Jo grinned, wrapping her hands around the mug. “I have three bicurious men and one very bad girl on the page right now. Swords are about to fly.”
“Sounds titillating.” Beth grinned. “Send me a copy when you’re done. And give me some warning so I can buy some batteries.”
“Don’t be greedy. Save the batteries for those of us who aren’t getting laid right now.” Jo arched an eyebrow at her sister. “How’s it going with Felix, anyway?”
“Ford,” Beth corrected automatically.
“Well?” Jo sat back, clearly expecting details. Beth opened her mouth to reply but found herself hesitating.
The last two weeks had been, quite simply, amazing. The more than Ford embraced his kink, the better it got for both of them—he fucked her better than she’d ever had it before, and she was pretty sure it was the same for him. And more than that, she actually liked him. When they weren’t rolling around naked, they actually had fun together. Despite their obvious differences, they had more in common than she ever would have guessed, from their mutual love of a nice sleek Porsche to the fact that they both enjoyed weird viral YouTube videos.
“The man is good with his hands,” she finally admitted, drumming her fingers on her sister’s desk. “You’re right that I don’t need the batteries.”
“That’s all you have to say about it?” Jo cocked her head. “You’ve had a smile on your face since you spotted him at the Tearoom. Obviously the sex is good. What gives?”
“Nothing gives.” Beth made sure that her expression remained neutral. “We’re having fun. I don’t need him to propose or anything.”
When her sister’s toffee-colored gaze narrowed in on hers, Beth knew she wasn’t fooling her. Jo knew her better than anyone else in the world.
But she didn’t know everything. She didn’t know that sometimes Beth couldn’t sleep because of the oppressive guilt that weighed her down until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
Her family was in their current financial situation in because of Beth. For so long now, their lives had revolved around her health. She knew they only cared that she stayed well, not about the money, but knowing that she’d so dramatically changed the dynamic of their family was a cape of stress that she could never shed.
And over all of that was the fact that she could get sick again anytime. Logically, she knew that the guilt she felt was self-destructive, but she couldn’t help it.
She was obsessive about monitoring her health so she didn’t get sick again because she couldn’t handle the thought of being a burden. Ford? The man had lost his empire. The last thing he needed was to be saddled with her, the possibility of more massive hospital bills an albatross around his neck.
They liked each other. They had fun together. They rocked each other’s worlds. Why did it have to be more than that?
“You know, you make a point of proving that you can still do everything else you could before you got sick.” Jo cast her a sidelong look. “So why would you hold back from someone who makes you feel good? If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you. Even if I find it questionable that you chose a guy named Felix.”
Beth rolled her eyes, choosing to focus on that rather than what her sister was trying to say. She held back for a reason. It was her choice.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Jo stretched. “I need a massive amount of words today in order to get that story in on time.”
“Give me your mug. I’ll take it downstairs for you.” Standing, Beth reached for the empty cup. The light from the window shifted, and the dark purple smudges beneath her sister’s eyes became more pronounced.
Narrowing her eyes, she looked around the room. Jo hibernated when she was really into her work, but she usually surfaced at least once a day to shower and track down something to eat. It was Saturday and she hadn’t seen Jo since... Thursday?
“Why are you working so hard on the weekend?” Setting the mug back down, she began to prowl around the room. The laundry hamper was overflowing, and the wastebasket was crammed full of empty Pringles cans and Starburst wrappers.
Having made the circle of the room, she stopped in front of her sister. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited.
“I may have picked up an extra contract. Or two.” Jo lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m just a little stressed. What’s your point?”
“You’re always really good about not taking on more than you can handle.” Jo wasn’t telling her something.
Beneath her stare, her sister squirmed, then finally huffed out a breath that sent her wayward tuft of hair dancing. “We have a balloon payment on our mortgage coming up. We’re all trying to make a little extra this month.”
What? No one had said anything about a big payment to her. Though when she thought of it, just last night Mamesie had enlisted her to help upload listings of her pottery to Etsy, when she normally only did it once a month. Meg had been working a lot of lunchtime functions as well as at night, which she didn’t normally do, and Amy hadn’t come home from her tattoo shop until eleven the night before.
Jo winced just as Beth put it together. “You didn’t tell me on purpose.”
The guilt was a fog, gathering thick and fast, so heavy that she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
They hadn’t told her because they didn’t want to stress her out. Stress increased the chance of her relapsing.
She knew they didn’t want her to relapse because they didn’t want her to be sick again. But was there a small part in any of their minds that thought they literally couldn’t afford for her to get sick again.
“I am not happy with you. With any of you.” Beth rarely lost her temper—not the full-force tsunami of it, at any rate—but she could feel her rage bubbling up, about to boil over and scald anyone in its path. “You just finished telling me that I shouldn’t let my illness change how I lived my life. That I can do everything I could before. Were you just trying to make me feel better?”
“Simmer down, princess. You know I wasn’t.” Jo planted her hands on her hips. “You almost died, Beth. Why the fuck can’t you just let us take care of you once in a while?”
“Because I don’t need to be taken care of!” She had so much to say, but most of it caught in her throat, choking her. She settled for an inarticulate growl before whirling on her heel and storming from the room. She slammed the door hard enough to make it shudder for good measure.
She met Meg coming up the stairs. Her sister wore a white blouse covered in fresh mustard stains and smelling of French fry grease. Now that she was looking for them, she saw that her oldest sister had dark shadows beneath her eyes as well.
“What the hell are you and Jo getting into it about?” Meg tugged the elastic from her tight ponytail, letting the length of stick-straight hair fall free. “I could hear you from the garage.”
“How about the fact that my entire family thought I was incapable of contributing to a big payment we have coming up without breaking?” Beth spat the words out. She was pretty sure she’d never been so mad. Felt so betrayed.
Meg bit her lower lip and looked away.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Beth shook her head with disgust. “I can’t deal with any of you right now. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FORD DIDN’T ANSWER his door when she rang the bell. She’d been over enough times in the last two weeks that she felt comfortable heading around the side of the house when she heard the buzz of some kind of power saw from the back.
She stopped dead when she entered the backyard and found her man stripped to the waist despite the chill in the late-September air. Safety goggles were strapped to his head, work gloves were on his hands and a sheen of sweat shone on his hard torso as he ran a two-by-four through a battered power saw.
She’d stormed out of the house knowing that she’d head to Ford’s. She hadn’t known exactly why, only that he was the one she wanted to help soothe her.
Finding him here looking he’d stepped out of a very dirty dream instantly turned her fury to lust. There were lots of ways to work off a mad, and this was her favorite one.
Unzipping her hoodie, she crossed the yard. She watched the rock-solid planes of his biceps flex as he set aside the first piece of wood and lifted another.
With every other lover that she’d had, the desire, the wanting had faded a little every time. With Ford? Every time they had sex her need grew thicker, deeper.
Whether it was still just chemistry or if it was because she knew what he could do to her, she didn’t care. But she wanted him right now, wanted to use the pleasure he could bring her to edge out the anger, even if just for now.
Closing the space between them, she waited for him to notice her. When he did he grinned, setting aside the piece of wood he was working on and powering down the saw.
“I was just cutting some replacement planks for the deck, but you’re much more interesting.” Tugging off his gloves, he tossed them to the ground, then drew her in for a kiss. Brushing his lips over hers, he pulled her in slowly, but she was impatient, rising to her toes and fisting her hands in his hair. When they broke apart, she saw the banked fire in his stare and smiled wickedly.
“You look like you’re going to eat me alive.” He tugged gently on a chunk of her hair, and the nerves in her scalp sparked to life. “Wanna share with the class?”
Playing Dirty Page 10
