Brian

by Delilah Devlin

  “Only if you’re comfortable doing it,” he said. “Seriously. If we want to listen inside the house, this wireless wall microphone has to be against the siding.” Glancing at the house, he continued, “I’m guessing there’s not much insulation between the siding and the drywall, because it’s likely broken down over the years, and it doesn’t look like they take care of the place. We could get a really good signal.”

  She plucked up the disk. One side was sticky. “And you have the receiver where?”

  He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. Behind the two seats and through the dark, black-out curtains stretched a row of monitors and other equipment atop a workbench table on one side, a deep storage bench on the opposite, plus a couple of folding chairs, stuck to the wall with Velcro. She knew because she’d been there before, admiring his “rig” when it had been his latest toy.

  “Goody,” she said. “We can eat at the workbench.”

  “Let’s watch for a few, first. Make sure there’s no movement outside before you sneak closer. And I need to run the plates on the car in the drive. Just to make sure it’s his.”

  The sun was dipping below the horizon, and the shadows stretched. She watched the house, feeling a little nervous but also strangely excited to be here with Brian. She knew this wasn’t his usual thing. If he surveilled, it was to watch the feed from numerous cameras his teammates wore on helmets or had installed in trees or corners or from one of the drones he operated from inside the van. That last bit blew her mind. He’d shown her a taped recording of one hunt through a national forest where the team had been pinned down by a shooter. Brian had been able to direct the team to safely approach the shooter’s location using his “bird’s eye” view.

  Brian turned his seat then moved from it to his wheelchair, which was just behind the driver’s seat. Then he wheeled into the back of the van. “We don’t have to watch the house through the windows. Let me get the monitors fired up.”

  For the moment, Raydeen kept her gaze on the house, thinking it might be kind of funny if no one was inside and they wasted hours surveilling an empty house.

  Hours. Alone with Brian. Brian of the bedroom eyes. Brian with the lost boy look married to his rugged features. There were so many secrets she wanted to know, like whether he preferred fucking missionary or while being ridden cowgirl style. If the house was empty, she wondered if they could make this “date” deliver in another way…

  Chapter 6

  After Brian fired up the computers, captured the satellite signal, and homed the cameras installed on the van on Dylan Walker’s house, he turned to Raydeen who sat watching through the window. With her face in profile, her gaze turned away, he had a moment to enjoy the view.

  He liked seeing her in profile for more than admiring the curve of her pretty tits. Her nose was a little long and tipped upward. Her cheeks were prominent with hollows beneath them. Golden-brown freckles dappled her cheeks and nose, and he wanted to lick every last one of them.

  They might have hours and hours alone inside this van. Soooo, of course, his mind went straight to blow jobs.

  And, of course, she turned to look at him at precisely that moment. He wasn’t sure what his expression betrayed, but she licked slowly around her lips before smiling.

  “We’re all set,” he said, then cleared his throat because his voice came out hoarse.

  She reached toward her feet for the backpack. “And now, I can feed you.”

  Her own voice was a little husky, which intrigued him. Or maybe she was just catching a cold.

  He maneuvered his chair around to move farther down the table. The cameras captured a view of the front of the house and along part of the side.

  “How long we gotta watch before I go stick that thing on his ratty siding?”

  “When we finish eating…?” he responded, not looking at her now because he was doing his best to will his cock into taking a rest.

  “I didn’t bring a meal so much as finger foods. I do like to nibble.”

  He opened his mouth to say something smart, but what he wanted nibbled stole away his words, so he clamped his lips shut.

  She gave a husky laugh, and he turned his head toward her. Her eyes were filled with mischief.

  “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” he grumbled.

  “Your man-o-meter is registering your pulse,” she said, gazing pointedly at his crotch. “I like taking a reading now and then.”

  “Raye…”

  She pushed up from her captain’s chair and walked toward him, and then abruptly turned toward a folding chair and ripped it off the Velcro. “Love that sound. Makes me itchy.” Opening the chair, she faced it backward and straddled it, her legs opening over the seat.

  Which naturally drew his gaze and made him think about her making that move over his lap…when his pants were down and his cock pointing toward the ceiling. “You’re a tease.”

  “I don’t tease, baby,” she said, lowering her voice. “I promise. Now, let me feed you.”

  Flipping open her backpack, she withdrew what looked like a Japanese bento box, and began opening the layers of trays. Inside were vegetables and fruit, all in bite-sized portions, a cup of hummus and another of some white cream, which she dipped a strawberry in then lifted it to her mouth. Her lips wrapped around the juicy fruit, and she bit. Her eyes rolled back and closed, and a deep moan slipped free.

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed.

  She opened one eye. “Too much?”

  “Not enough,” he said, lifting another strawberry, swiping it into the cream then holding it up for her to take from his fingers. Where he got the nerve, he wasn’t sure, but the look in her eyes was encouraging.

  She leaned forward and opened wide. He placed it on her tongue, but she moved her head forward and closed her lips around his fingers, drawing off them slowly and taking the fruit.

  After she swallowed it, she glanced from his wheelchair to the table. “Will it hold your weight?”

  He swallowed hard. Jesus, was he dreaming? “And yours…but… I haven’t done this in a really long time, and I’m not losing my pants.” Not altogether.

  Her eyebrows jogged up and down. “I like sampling the finger foods, nibbling a bit. Sucking them down. Why don’t you let me?”

  Dear fucking God, he was so ready for this. Too ready. He was going to embarrass himself. He’d go in his pants before he even got them down. “Raye…this won’t…be good for you.”

  “Are you going to come in my mouth?”

  “God, I hope so. Might not make it though.”

  She slitted her eyes and said in a rough voice, “Get up on that bench.”

  His eyebrows shot upward. “You going to tell me what to do?”

  She puckered her lips. “You want these on you…then, yeah.”

  Not one to dawdle when an opportunity arose, Brian placed his hands on the workbench, pushed himself out of the chair, and swung his hips, landing his ass on bench.

  She stood, used a foot to slide away the chair, then stepped between his legs.

  “Um, one of us should be watching the house,” he said, noting that his voice was quivering. Not exactly manly.

  Her lips quirked up at one side. “I’ll keep one eye on the screen.” She nodded toward his waist. “Now open up. I want dessert.”

  A bark of laughter surprised him. “That time it was a little much.”

  “The belt, sweetheart.”

  He went to work, desperation making him fling open the belt, and then he was tearing at the button and zipper, sliding it downward.

  “Lift up a bit, and I’ll ease these down,” she said, gripping the waist of his jeans.

  “Just to my thighs,” he said, not looking at her.

  Her gaze softened for a second, but then she yanked on the waistband.

  He flattened his hands on the table and lifted his ass.

  She slid his jeans downward, and then pushed down his boxers.

  His cock sprang upwar
d into the chilly air.

  She drew a sharp breath. “I knew it was substantial…”

  He moved backward on the table, between two monitors. “Why not climb on? You can skip dessert. We can both get our fill.”

  Her expression tightened, and she gave a sharp nod. Then she flung off her sweater and slipped off her bra.

  He got a glimpse of her tits before she bent and removed her boots—dark nipples, cone-shaped. The tips were distended—perfect for sucking like a straw. When she straightened, he watched transfixed as she pushed down her jeans, shimmying out of them.

  “Damn, Raye…” was all he could manage to mutter. She was a goddess. Taut, creamy skin. Muscled thighs and belly. A black thatch between her legs, trimmed in a narrow strip.

  When she moved closer, he reached for her waist and brought her torso against his. Her face hovered over his, and her gaze dipped to his mouth. “I want to spend days with your mouth on me, Bri.”

  Feeling breathless, he whispered, “Maybe we should share a kiss first. Make sure you like how it feels.”

  When she laid her lips against his, he sighed into her mouth. Tears pricked his eyes, and he closed them before he betrayed the depth of his yearning. Her soft, pillowy lips moved on his, and he was lost, awash in emotions—lust, gratitude, fear, as well as hope.

  He sank his fingers in her curly hair and dragged the tips against her scalp, tugging. She gave a shudder then moved closer, rubbing her chest against his shirt, and he drew back sharply and tugged off his shirt because he wanted those hard little beads rubbing against his skin. When she began to move, her entire body undulating, breasts and belly against him, he reached down to ring his cock to keep from exploding and broke off the kiss.

  “You left a trail there,” she said, glancing down at where he’d leaked against her belly.

  “Sorry. Like I said, I don’t think I’ll last long.”

  “You don’t have to,” she said. She shook her head, loosening his grip, and moved away, going for the backpack again. When she held up a strip of condoms, he feared he might lose it because he felt so…he wasn’t sure what, but she’d come knowing what she wanted. And for some damn reason, she wanted him.

  Raydeen tore off one packet then flicked the corner open with a nail and peeled the rubber out. When she bent over his cock, he kept his grip tight around the base while she rolled it downward.

  Then she squeezed her hands on his shoulders and climbed onto the bench, her knees going to either side of his hips. “Put it inside me.”

  He moved a hand between her legs and tentatively felt along her slit, pleased to find it wet, and then sank two fingers inside her.

  She gave a groan and closed her eyes.

  Encouraged, he rubbed a thumb over the top of her folds while he swirled inside her, drawing down more moisture, making sure her channel was slick and ready to take him.

  Then he moved his hand to her hip and pointed his cock at her entrance. “Come down slow, Raye,” he whispered. “I’ll keep holding it.”

  “Don’t. Want to slam down your dick,” she said, turning her face to kiss him again. When he removed his hand, he gritted his teeth, because she was already descending, taking him deep in a single downward plunge.

  “Fuck,” he whispered against her mouth.

  “I will.”

  “No, Jesus,” he hissed.

  “Don’t mind if you pray, baby, but I won’t have any mercy for you.” Then she began to move, coming up, then lowering again, up and down. Up and down.

  He struggled to keep aware of her. Cupped her breasts, tweaked her tips. But he was losing himself, climbing. Engulfed in slick heat, he felt his balls go hard and draw up against his groin. His thighs tightened. He wished he had feet because he would have pressed them against the floor to give some resistance so he could stroke right back, but he took everything she gave, every dip and stir, reveling in the way she moaned as she ground against him, his pubic hair scouring her clit.

  When she came down harder, he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Raye!” he cried out and flung back his head, stiffening as he came, filling the condom in wave after wave of release.

  She didn’t slow, riding his hardness, plunging down on it.

  When he recovered enough to remember her pleasure, he grasped a tit and tugged on the nipple while he stroked a finger against the nugget of her clit, toggling it fast while she keened and jerked against him.

  When she fell against him, he kissed her shoulder and cradled her against his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She pulled back her head. “You think I was doing you some kind of favor?”

  “I just meant…it’s been a long time… I haven’t… not since…”

  “I get that, Brian. You were afraid.”

  He swallowed and didn’t look away. “Yes. I was. I am.”

  She moved her hips slowly, forward and back. “I got mine, too, you know.”

  His mouth curved. “Glad to hear that.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t fuck a man as part of his rehabilitation.”

  “Didn’t think you did. But I’m grateful you chose me.”

  She made a grunting noise then turned her head and frowned. “There’s someone taking out the trash.”

  He turned his head, too. “That would be Daryl. At least we know he’s home.”

  Raydeen sighed. “I should go stick that thing to the side of his house.”

  “Can we stay like this a little longer?” he asked, cupping her ass and holding her down. “I think, I’m not done yet.” In fact, miraculously, his cock was stirring inside her again.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Wish we had a bed. I’d flip around and ride you again. Let you feel up my ass. I know you like looking at it.”

  “Caught me a time or two, have you?” he said, one side of his mouth quirking upward.

  “Yeah,” she said with a full grin. “I’m okay with it. Look all you want. Touch it, too.”

  “How about taste?”

  Her eyes widened. “Well…”

  He liked that he’d shocked her. Feeling emboldened, he said, “We’ll figure this out, Raydeen. Any way I can, I’m going to have you.”

  “Sounds like we’re going to be busy together,” she said, her voice a deep rumbling purr now.

  “If you like…”

  “I do.” She pushed on his shoulders and rose on her knees. Then she aimed a nipple at his mouth. “I’ve been dying to have your mouth here,” she whispered.

  Feeling as though he was a kid who’d been given the keys to the candy store, he bent toward her and took her deep into his mouth.

  * * *

  Later, when they’d both dressed again, Raydeen rubbed her boob through her green sweater. “They ache.”

  “Did I bite too hard?”

  “No, baby, you bit me just right. They’re just not used to getting any action.”

  “Can’t believe that. Pretty as you are.”

  “Oh, I’ve had lots of offers, but I wasn’t ready.” She closed up the bento box and put it to the side then retrieved the listening device from between the seats in front.

  She gazed down at it and touched the switch on the back of the device. “That armed now?”

  He nodded, tuning the receiver. “Say something.”

  “My tit aches.”

  He rolled his eyes when the words blasted through the van. “It works. You remember what I said?”

  “Yeah. Keep to the side of the house, out of view of the windows. Stick it to the siding then come straight back. Piece of cake.”

  His eyebrows dipped. “Anything goes wrong…”

  “Nothing’s going wrong. Stop worrying. I’m goin’ for a walk, is all.”

  With her coat buttoned and a scarf wound around her neck, she went to the passenger seat and exited the van.

  She knew he was watching her as she walked away, so she added a little “extra” to her gait as she moved. Her hips felt fluid anyway, loose. Everything was loose. She’d
lost her bra along the way, and her undies. Her sex was still hot and feeling a little raw from rubbing on his big dick. She held up the device. “My pussy’s hot. Hope you know that’s all your fault.” Then she smiled because she knew he was smiling, likely feeling all cocky about the fact she’d got off on his fine-ass dick.

  “I’m thinking you owe me a blow, Bri, seeing as I did most of the work. Deep tongue action. A lot of suction. Mm-mmm. Now I know what’s in your pants, I’m gonna be a busy woman.”

  When she reached Daryl’s house, she glanced up and down the road. She detected no movement. Entering the shadows, she walked as quietly as she could through the brambles. From where she stood beside the house now, she could hear a television playing. Some kind of sports program because an announcer was talking rapidly, issuing a play by play. She placed the sticky side of the device against the siding, hiding it behind a tall bush, then began to back away.

  That was when she heard a low growl coming from the vicinity of Daryl’s back yard. Her heart thudded against her chest wall. Fucker probably had a pit bull. She turned and began walking fast.

  Brush crackled behind her, and she broke into a sprint, leaving the yard and pounding down the road. When she neared the van, the back gate opened, and she jumped inside. The door closed, but something was jumping against the side of the van, yipping.

  She glanced at the monitors. The pit bull was damn short and had so much fur it looked like a dust mop.

  Snorting sounded from the side. Brian was bent over the table holding his sides.

  “Don’t you dare laugh,” she bit out.

  He shook his head, but his shoulders were quivering.

  “Could have been a German shepherd attack dog. All I heard was growling. I didn’t stick around to so see what it was.”

  “It’s a…” he snickered, “a Pomeranian.”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts and winced because her nipples were indeed sore. “Just see if I let you bite me again.”

  Chapter 7

  Brian pretended to ignore Raydeen as he continued refining the signal from the listening device. So far, all he was picking up was chatter from the TV.