by L. A. Fiore
“Sandbar.”
Watching her stroke the cat under the chin was making me hard because I wanted her stroking me. “Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”
Her smile dimmed as anger sparked again. “You’re the one who took a step back.”
“I was trying to be noble.”
“And now?”
“Fuck noble.”
“Maybe I’m not interested.”
I moved in, the pulse at her throat went spastic. “There you go lying again.”
“You really are unbelievable, you know that? Two times you walked away from me, three if you count your speedy departure earlier this evening, and now you’ve changed your mind and I’m just supposed to come when you call?”
She wasn’t wrong, didn’t change a fucking thing. “You feel it every bit as much as I do.”
“Maybe I do, but I’m not really interested in heading down a road with you only for you to have another attack of whatever the hell it is that keeps overcoming you and seeing nothing but your taillights.”
“Do you really think you have a choice?”
“I do, yes.”
I moved even closer, so close I felt her breath. “Your pulse is pounding, your nipples are hard and I bet if I touched you, you’d be wet. For me.”
“Of all the—”
“My pulse is pounding and I’m so fucking hard it hurts, but I’m tired of jacking off to the idea of you. I want to feel you, all of you. Tell me you don’t feel it, tell me you haven’t touched yourself and thought of me.”
Her eyes lowered, all the answer I needed. She fucking had. “Send me away, Sidney, or else I’m going to take you—every single inch.”
The hand that held the bowl shook, her throat worked and yet nothing came out.
“Your silence is a green light for me.”
Something moved over her face, like a memory being remembered, and the beauty of her expression nearly brought me to my knees. Her voice was no louder than a whisper, “I need to feed Cain first.”
And somehow I knew that she had just made a huge decision, one bigger than consenting to fuck me. And being the dick I was, I pounced. “You just sealed your fate, baby. I ain’t letting you change your mind.”
“I don’t want to change my mind.”
Fuck. “My place.”
“Okay.”
“Feed Cain and then you’re on the back of my bike.”
Her eyes went wide. “But you said you didn’t let women ride on your bike.”
“Unless they’re mine. I’m taking you to my bed. You ride on my bike.”
If I weren’t so fucking hard, I’d actually be enjoying the show. She was going boneless right in front of me.
“Sidney?”
“Yeah.”
“You okay with that?”
“Riding on your bike or going to your bed?”
“Both.”
“If you’re asking me if I’m ready to move on, I am. It’s been three years and I’ve never wanted to move on, never met anyone who made me want to move on, but I’ve wanted to move on with you since that moment in the bakery.”
“Fucking feed that animal.”
She smiled shyly, but it grew warmer as she looked and really saw. “You feel it too.” She wasn’t asking.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll feed Cain.”
It took her fucking forever to feed him and even wanting to toss her on my bike so I could get her home and naked, it was fascinating to watch her with him. Jayce had been right. The animal adored her. Sandbar wasn’t stupid. He kept his distance, but he didn’t leave her. She said goodnight and even petted the animal’s head.
She locked up the pen while saying, “We’ve been working on not so much training, but boundaries.”
“Are you planning to bring him inside?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that smart?”
“He hasn’t shown any violent tendencies, not to strangers or the cats.”
“Cats?”
“When I was younger I found two strays. My foster parents wouldn’t let me keep them, so Jake adopted them.”
“Jake’s your husband.”
“Yeah.”
“What are their names?”
“Tigger and Stuart.”
“How old are they?”
“Sixteen.”
“And that one gets along with them?”
“They tolerate him. Sandbar is smart enough to know he’s unevenly matched.”
“And Cain?”
“We’ll see how they respond to him, but I suspect they’ll recognize a kindred spirit.” She scooped up Sandbar; he curled in her arms, but his eyes were on me and the fucker was gloating. She said, “I think Cain is like Sandbar. He belonged to someone once and they turned him out. I won’t bring him inside until I’m certain he’s ready. In fact, I’ve started leaving his pen open during the day to give him a chance to leave. He doesn’t leave.”
She really cared about these animals, needed to give them a home, and knowing she was a foster child I suspected she was looking to find something she hadn’t had. That was until her husband. He took in her cats. Dude was either kindhearted or really fucking smart, knowing just what that act would mean to her. I respected him—the kind of man who sought to make her happy. And even knowing just what I was walking into, the shadow still cast by her dead husband, I still wanted to walk into it. “Bring a bag, you’re sleeping over.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Whatever the fuck gets you on my bike with an overnight bag.”
“So you’re asking nicely. Okay, I’ll bring a bag.”
“I see you still have attitude.”
“And you still use fuck in every sentence.”
“Nice that some things stay the same.”
Her laugh was infectious. “Come inside. I’ll only be a minute.”
Stepping inside, it surprised me how homey it felt, especially since she and Rylee hadn’t lived there long. It wasn’t girlie either, just comfortable and welcoming. She disappeared upstairs as I waited in the kitchen. Impatiently waited in the kitchen. I felt like an adolescent about to lose his virginity. And I knew what this was. What we were doing wasn’t just a fuck. I didn’t want it to be. I was thirty-three years old and for the first time, I wasn’t planning my exit strategy, and for a woman I had known for a little over four months with limited contact during that time. And because that was so fucked up, I was intrigued.
Two cats strolled in, one orange tabby and one black and white, moving around the room like raptors. Both sets of eyes were fixed on me and then they jumped on the counter and rubbed up against my arm.
She came down the stairs with a bag over her shoulder but stopped at the sight of her cats. There was surprise in her voice when she said, “They like you.” Her eyes moved to me. “Outside of me, the only other person they’ve ever showed affection to was Jake.” That meant something to her; the subtle change that came over her was undeniable. “I’m ready.”
I had been about to ask if she was having second thoughts, but I knew after whatever had just happened, she wasn’t.
She turned toward the stairs where the other cat sat. His tail was flicking and his narrowed eyes were on me. Unlike the two still rubbing up against me, Sandbar didn’t like me at all. “Good night, Sandbar.”
It was a cat, but I found myself doing a bit of my own gloating. I grinned at him. He hissed.
“He’s usually so friendly.”
“Competition.”
“What?”
“I’m competition.”
“He’s a cat.”
“He got a dick?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m competition.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Tigger and Stuart don’t have a problem with you.” She shook her head. “You’re teasing me.”
I wasn’t going to get into the dynamic of the alpha in the animal kingdom, so I said, “Yeah.”
/>
But as soon as her back turned, I gave the cat the bird. Taking her bag, I walked out first so she could lock up. By the time I got her stuff in the saddlebag, she had joined me. Excitement burned in her eyes and remembering her reaction when she first rode with me, I fucking loved that she liked riding as much as I did. I reached for the helmet and secured it under her chin before I settled on the bike. She didn’t hesitate to climb on and unlike the first time, she wrapped her arms around my waist and linked them just above my cock. I peeled out and she held on tighter—the fucking sweetest torture.
We reached his house and immediately my heart started pounding, which was likely not lost on Abel since my chest was pressed to his back. He rolled us into the garage and waited for me to climb off before he followed. He took my bag then my hand, and feeling his calloused hand enveloping mine, I’d missed that. We were going to have sex and even feeling self-conscious since I’d only ever had one partner, I wanted him. And the fact that he came to me and confessed his feelings—got downright possessive—stirred my hunger. It could be argued that I was acting irrationally because I wasn’t even sure I liked him and was terrified of the depth of my attraction to him, but none of that mattered. There was only one thing going through my head, the intensity of the need staggering, and that was to find fulfillment with him.
The inside of his house was a surprise. I expected a bachelor pad, but it was neat and clean. The furniture was masculine but the leather sofa and chair, and oak coffee and end tables were lovely. His kitchen was about the size of mine, but it had fancier appliances and concrete countertops.
He dropped my bag on the floor before he turned into me. His fingers slid into my hair and his palms came to rest at my jaw. His eyes moved over my face as he took his time looking. The thorough perusal caused that hunger in my gut to spike. The tip of his tongue appeared as he ran it along the seam of his lips, like he was already licking my taste off. His head lowered, my eyes closed and his phone rang.
“Fucking fuckers.”
I giggled because honestly the man really liked that word.
“Don’t move.”
He grabbed his phone and snarled. “There better be blood.”
His faced changed instantly as frustration was replaced with concern. “Fuck. Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hung up, but his expression was grim. “I have to go. Do you want to stay here or should I take you home?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Carly. She was doing so well, but Duncan went to see her and she’s coming down from a wicked high.”
“Do you know what she took?”
“He thinks heroin, which is a first for her. She usually smokes weed or pops pills, ecstasy or pain meds. I don’t even know where the hell she got heroin.”
“Maybe we should get her to the hospital.”
“She’s already coming down. He doesn’t want to move her. Jayce is on his way too.”
“Heroin was my brother’s drug of choice, maybe I could help.”
“Are you sure you want to—”
“Have you ever been around someone on heroin?”
“No.”
“I can help.”
“All right, if you’re sure.”
“Heroin is not a road she wants to go down.”
“I know.”
When we arrived, Jayce had already arrived. Cut his night short with Rylee to help. I had to admire these men that they cared so much. I wish Connor had had friends like this.
“Since she’s only used once, when the drug starts to leave her system she shouldn’t experience any withdrawal symptoms. She will, however, likely vomit and she’ll definitely be irritable as the effect of the drug fades. She’ll need lots of water, which might be hard to get her to take. And then it’s just watching and waiting.”
“You’ve done this before?” Jayce asked knowingly.
“My brother was a heroin addict. I’ve been through cold turkey with him and withdrawal for an addict is horrific…one of the reasons they stay high so they don’t experience the agony of it. This won’t be like that, but she is on a dangerously slippery slope if she liked the high.”
“I really thought she was past this. Fuck. You were right, Abel. Therapy is not enough. She needs rehab,” Duncan said.
“Rehab only works if the person wants to get clean.” I cautioned.
“Let’s hope this scares some sense into her. Thanks, Sidney, for coming.” The worry etched in Duncan’s face was proof of how much she meant to him.
The state of her brought back so many memories, but I pushed them out of my head and allowed instinct to take over—dormant knowledge stirring back to life as I fell into doing what I had done for years for my brother. She kept throwing up the water, but she did eventually take some and it stayed down. She even had pockets of sleep, but they weren’t long lived. Jayce and Duncan went home—stopping first at my place to help Rylee feed Cain—since we’d be taking shifts; Abel and I took the first one. During one of her naps, I was outside getting some air.
I felt when Abel joined me on the porch. He asked, “How many times did you go through that with your brother?”
Turning to him, I leaned up against the railing. “Connor started heroin at twenty-four and became completely hooked by twenty-five. For five years, Jake and I dragged him from countless drug dens and forced him to go cold turkey. A few times he stayed sober for a few weeks, once a couple of months, but he always went back because he needed the high. We tried to get him counseling, tried to get him into a program, but he always left. He didn’t want to be saved. I always thought he started using as a way to cope. Our home life wasn't great, but I think he just loved the high.”
He moved closer; the pad of his thumb going to the tender spot where my cheek met with Carly’s knuckles earlier when we were trying to get her to take the water. “We should put some ice on that.”
“It’s okay.” But that was said breathlessly because I wanted to close the distance between us so I could touch and taste him.
He felt the need too when his hand moved to my neck, his fingers applying pressure as he pulled me to him. His whiskers brushed across my face as his lips descended, a light brushing like a sampling of fine wine—just a taste to savor. I had worried I would compare Abel with Jake, since he was my only point of reference and the love of my life, but those worries evaporated as soon as Abel’s lips touched mine. This was so different from what Jake and I had shared. I wasn’t sure if the moan came from him or me since we both wanted more. His arm wrapped around my waist at the same time his mouth opened for a kiss that left nothing to the imagination. My blood was on fire as it raced through my veins; I felt light-headed and my legs were having trouble holding me up. His taste was like him—dark and dangerous—and even tasting him, the hunger he stirred wasn’t appeased. I pressed in closer, wrapped my arms around his neck, lifted up on my tiptoes and kissed him back. My tongue exploring his mouth, running along his lips, tangling with his as my body came alive and ached with need.
Turning us, he pressed me up against the wall. My body molded to his like he was consuming me. He was hard, pressed tight against my stomach, my hips moving of their own volition as I sought to ease the ache his touch stirred. His hands moved down my body, brushing along the sides of my breasts, and lower to my hips before moving under my shirt to bare skin. When he swiped my nipple with his thumb, the ache between my legs turned into a spasm as I pressed my legs together and rode it. His fingers moved down my stomach to my waist. He flipped the button on my jeans and immediately his hand filled the space as one of his fingers ran along the edge of my panties before slipping under the silk, so close to where I wanted to feel him. And then his hand was gone. My eyes opened to find his head bent and his hands pressed to the wall near my ears.
“What happened?”
Lifting his gaze to mine, his eyes were no longer the color of an aquamarine, but darker, like a royal blue. “Not here. Your first time shouldn’t be on some porch.” His mouth moved
closer. “You came.”
Three years of abstinence and one incredibly sexy man had the power to pull complete honesty from me because I didn’t even hesitate in answering. “Yeah.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes closed and he seemed to be debating with himself. “Fuck it.” His fingers dove into my jeans and under my panties. He separated me and ran his middle finger right along my core before he brought his finger to his lips and staring me right in the eyes, he licked my taste off. What was even more erotic, he enjoyed it.
“Holy shit.” The words were out; just fell off my tongue because…holy shit.
“We finish here and then you’re in my bed. I plan on spending a good long time tasting you here.” He cupped my sex with his palm. “Move your hips. Come for me again.”
Hedonistic, absolutely, but my body demanded release so I did. I rubbed myself against his palm as his fingers pressed against me mimicking what his cock would be doing later. I was so aroused it didn’t take long. His eyes never left mine as my body crested then went tumbling over the side and I happily gave myself over to it.
“Fucking beautiful,” he whispered.
Abel’s words stirred a memory of Jake causing my chest to hurt because I didn’t feel guilty, didn’t feel like I was cheating on Jake. I wanted this man. Wanted everything the look of him promised.
A shout came from the house; Abel touched his forehead to mine. “Round two.”
Abel and I were heading back to his place. Jayce, Marnie and her sister Patricia, a nurse, came to relieve us. Marnie had paperwork for a rehab place that was close to Sheridan; Carly was being admitted. She was terrified, she had never done heroin, got talked into trying it, and now she was finally willing to admit she had a problem.
Abel pulled his bike into the garage. I climbed off and his gaze hit mine before he said, “At least she didn’t argue about rehab.”
“No, she actually pushed for it. That’s the first step. Connor never made that step. He didn’t want to get better.”
“I’m sorry, Doc.”
“I’m happy she does.”
“And she does want to get better. I had my doubts, but I think she’ll find her way.”
