Her head came up immediately, and he tightened his arms, ready to stave off any attempt she might make of pulling away. Then her mouth was on his neck again, hot, frantic, but she didn’t stop there. Moving up to his mouth, her lips grazed across his in a kiss he promptly took control of, easing his way across as he licked along the seam of her lips, delving in with a groan when they parted.
“Stay with me. Please, stay,” she pleaded, and stretched up to press another kiss to his lips.
God, she tasted as good as he remembered, and he had spent a good amount of time over the past weeks with her in his mind. Fuck yeah. His tongue twisted with hers, control lost to the wind like songs on a ride. Gone, no stopping now.
They stood in the kitchen where the surfaces were all hard and high, not right for what he wanted. The living room, where her art was, had a couch they’d dozed on together, but he didn’t want their first time to be there, circled round with echoes of his past and her fears. Time to explore her space.
Keeping his mouth to hers, he slipped his hands down her sides and past her ass to her thighs, lifting. He gloried in feeling her legs wrap around his waist as if she had done this with him a thousand times. Made for me. Elbows on his shoulders, her head tilted, mouth working avidly on his in a way that stole his senses. Pulling back an inch, her teeth slid gently on his bottom lip, and she stared confidently into his eyes, hers hooded with passion. Night and day with how he would have expected things to go, but he’d take it.
Take anything she gives me.
“God, baby.”
Two treads at a time he took them up the stairs, rounding the column at the top and going to the only open door along the landing, hoping like fuck it was her bedroom.
Pushing it open, he saw an unmade bed, a small pile of clothes on the dresser, a tee laid across the covers. Knee to the bed, he moved them to the middle, leaning far down to rest her gently on the mattress.
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and pulled him on top of her, lips and teeth working the column of his neck, driving him insane with the need to uncover every inch of her. Her hand twisted in his hair, pulling savagely to align their mouths. He covered her with his body, hips settling in between her giving thighs as she groaned, the sound vibrating into his mouth.
Too fast, this is too fast, he thought, shifting to lie at her side. “Cassie, honey, slow down.”
“No, don’t let me think. Hoss, if I think…” Her voice trailed off as her hands reached up to smooth the shirt under his jacket. “Just…please, let me feel.”
He propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at her in awe. Still in her jacket and chaps, she was a study of pale skin and black leather, bright hair tumbling around, pulled half out of the ponytail with tugs from his greedy hands. Eyes heated, she looked up at him with desire and pleasure, lips swollen from his kisses. Leaning over her, he lifted a hand and slowly undid the jacket, with her eager help drawing it down over her shoulders. Mouth to hers, he worked blindly at the waistband of her chaps while she finished the jacket, fingers sliding around her thighs to the zippers there, dragging them the length of her legs.
He kneeled beside her, resting on his heels. So beautiful. Eyes locked on her face, he removed his own jacket and pulled the long-sleeved shirt he’d worn tonight over his head in a single movement. Reaching down, he tugged off his boots, then worked on hers, tossing them off the end of the bed. Through it all, she kept her gaze on his face, her breathing fast but steady, aroused…not afraid. God, so brave. He slipped his hands up the outside of her thighs, meeting at the waistband of her jeans as he deftly unfastened button and zipper. Discarding them, his eyes went to the juncture of her thighs, inhaling the scented promise of passion teasing him.
Blue satin panties covered her, and already he could imagine how that scrap would slip and slide underneath with his fingertips. He reached out and dragged a thumb across the skin of her leg, up against the edge of the material, and then dipped under to feel the silky skin covering the hollow of her hip. Wrapping his hand around one side of her panties, he pulled and tugged, surprised when she didn’t lift to make it easier. When he brought his gaze to her face, it took a moment for him to recognize and react to what was happening, but when he did, he moved fast to try and stave off the attack. Hoss braced himself over her, trying to keep from trapping her as he stretched out a hand to her too-pale face and spoke softly. “Cassie, look at me, baby. Look at me. I’m right here with you.”
Within the scant moments he had looked away, she had begun to lock up, breath coming faster, and the pulse in her throat was throbbing underneath her skin. Fuck, what can I do? She’s probably feeling vulnerable, exposed. Palm cupping her jaw, he called, “Give me your eyes, baby.” He could see the moment the connection between them was made, when she saw him again, not whatever was in her head, and he leaned down to touch his forehead to hers. “There you are. There’s my good girl. My gorgeous, good girl.”
“Hoss.” Cassie whispered his name and shifted slightly, pulling back. He frowned, reading avoidance into the movement. He realized he wasn’t wrong when she began, “You should…” Taking a deep breath, she whispered, voice soft as a sigh, “That’s to say, Isaiah…Mr. Rogers.” Every devolving word took her further from him and Hoss could nearly feel the wrench as that distance increased when her gaze dropped from his eyes to his chin, and stuck there, the first time in forever that she’d avoided his eyes. Dammit, no.
“Hoss,” he reminded her and felt her flinch at the burning anger in his voice. Shit, I didn’t mean to scare her worse. “I’m Hoss, honey. And I’m right here, with you. Don’t take yourself away from me. Let me have you, honey. I’m staying with you. It’s just me, baby. Just Hoss.” He tilted his head and strained, searching her face to find the woman who had dinner with him, kissed him in her kitchen, who stayed in his arms all the way up the stairs, but Cassie even looked different when she was afraid. “Nothin’ to be afraid of here, honey. I’d never do anything you didn’t want. Never hurt you. Hand to my heart, I promise. I’m just…Hoss, honey. I’m just Hoss. That’s who I am, and I’m here with you, my gorgeous, brave girl.”
Her lips parted, and she breathed out his name, that single syllable wavering with her effort. “Hoss.”
Mesmerized, he watched as her hand lifted and fluttered aimlessly at the end of a quaking arm. She’s looking for something, he thought, and pressed his cheek into her palm. He held her gaze, letting her use that touch to anchor herself if that’s what she needed. Give you anything.
“Hoss,” she agreed again, gaze locked with his as her thumb glided across his lips. Not an attempt to silence him, but a resumption of the exploration.
“Cassie. Honey, you’re safe with me. Always. Come back to me.” Parting his lips, he sucked the tip of her thumb into his mouth and bit gently, watching her pink tongue slide across her bottom lip.
Encouraged, he dipped his chin the barest amount, touching his mouth to hers. When he shifted position, her eyes closed, and he could again feel her retreating. No, dammit. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, lips moving under his. “You should leave. This isn’t something…no one wants this. No one wants to see. Not this. You should…just go.” She pulled in a ragged breath. “I can’t. You should go. Trust me.”
“Cassie, nothing to be sorry for, baby.” Since he had lost her eyes, Hoss leaned in further, rubbing his cheek against hers, shifting his legs and hips so they were more side by side. “Give me five minutes, and if you really want me to, I’ll leave. Five minutes, but right now I’m here. You told me to stay, and I want to. So much. But if you need me to go, I will.” Moving up in the bed, he nabbed a pillow and shoved it underneath his head, then reached out, slid an arm around her stiff shoulders and slowly urged her to roll into him. “Five minutes, babe. Five minutes and I’ll go. But only if you still want me to, because I swear, Cassie, I’d rather stay.” He needed her to understand he wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded. “Gonna stay where I am. Right here. I’m right h
ere with you.” There was a small blanket folded to one side, and he grabbed that to drape over them both, then pulled it across her legs more fully.
Voice trembling, she said, “No, please. I want…” She took a hard, hitching breath, then a softer tone, her voice thick with emotion as she struggled to say the word he most wanted to hear. “Stay.”
“All right, honey. I’m here.” One hand around her back, he held her firmly, keeping her pulled close to his side as she shuddered and shook, her body still in the grip of overwhelming fear. Every movement tore his heart open a little wider. This woman is stronger than she knows. Hoss reached up with his other hand, threaded his fingers through her hair, and gently removed the tie that was failing to hold it in more than a half-assed ponytail. Once he had access to the full length, he stroked her hair, slow and long, fingers working in up by her scalp, massaging for a moment, then pulling through, untangling as he went.
He brushed through the length repeatedly, keeping her pressed against him with a firm grip on her hip. Again and again, he stroked and petted until she sagged against him, exhaustion finally winning the battle, dragging her down into sleep. When she finally went under, her whole body relaxed in a way that told him exactly how tightly wound she was most of the time. I can’t imagine carrying that every day, he thought, his hand moving automatically through her now tangle-free, silken hair. Bravest fucking woman I ever met.
Tell me
Cassie
She woke slowly, gradually, a process uncharacteristic of her normal sleep pattern which was typically a lingering drop off followed by waking so fast sometimes she would be seated on the side of the bed before her movement even registered.
Eyes still closed, cocooned in a pool of heat, the first thing that hit her was a scent. Hoss. Pervasive but not overpowering, it was intensely masculine and pleasant. She found it comforting, the suggestion of musk that always stayed with him, twined through the traces of leather and the road. Then she became aware that there was a heavy, male strength wrapped around her. Bare arms banded her belly and chest, hands had bunched up her shirt and were anchoring her in place. Her own hands had risen to cup the forearm and wrist of one arm, hard muscles underneath her palms reassuring. I’m not afraid. Quiet sounds came from behind her. The unhurried, measured breaths of air attested to the relaxed yet awake nature of the person sharing her bed. Shouldn’t I be afraid?
“Cassie.” Her murmured name was experienced as a rumbling wave of sound, traveling both through her back into her bones and across the air to her ears. The voice was rough with sleep, gravelly and deep—but still, she recognized it, giving validation to her memories. Her stomach gave a little lurch as her body reacted to the knowledge. Hoss is here. Her eyes opened, and she glanced down. The first thing she saw were arms, strong and sinewy, draped firmly over her body, holding her firmly against his hot form. He stayed. She let her eyelids sink closed again and in the silent darkness, she drew in an experimental breath. Deep and satisfying, it blew out as easily as it drew in, so she took another one. No panic. No fear. No unease at waking in this position. She felt relaxed and secure. He stayed with me all night. Again.
“Baby, you up?” This rough whisper came from beside her head, and she abandoned any pretense of sleep to make an unintelligible noise. He laughed softly, the gusts of his humor ghosting across her ear. “You good, Cassie?” She spent a moment to attempt an internal argument that she might still be sleeping, and if so, behaviors weren’t under her control. Instead of answering, she tipped her head and lifted her chin in invitation. It was less than a second before he accepted, lips touching hers in a soft kiss that pressed and pressed, then the tip of his tongue trailed across her lips, before his mouth was pressing again, softer than before. The act was undemanding, which left her feeling safe and cossetted. He treated it as routine, as if this were how they began every morning.
Hoss finished with an even softer peck before he nuzzled into her neck. It sent a bolt of desire through her when his lips and tongue trailed a heated path up her skin, and she arched to give him better access. She again got the ghosting of his breath across her skin when he growled, “Fucking hell, gorgeous. You’re killing me.” His hips shifted, and she felt the rough fabric of his jeans on her bare legs, then one hard thigh pushed between hers and lifted, resting against her core. “Cassie, stop it.”
Until he told her to stop, she wasn’t even aware she had been pushing her ass against him, but once she realized behind the fabric of his jeans was a hard, hot cock, she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. “Hoss.” Any other words escaped her, lost as she was in the wave of desire for him. She tipped her ass to find an angle and pushed until his hands clamped on her tighter, arms squeezing. I want this. With desperation she didn’t recognize, she wanted him to make love to her. “Hoss.” She set her teeth to work and nibbled along his arm, followed by a brush of her palm across the muscles.
His hands moved, sliding down and around her body as he changed position with her, rolling them, then he was over her and kissing her hard, his mouth covering hers and she couldn’t breathe. It was across her face and she couldn’t breathe. His weight was on her, holding her down, holding her down…holding her…down.
***
Hoss
Hoss knew the instant her movements went from nervous desire to frantic escape. Her hand shoved at his chest while the other had fisted and battered at his shoulder. Startled, he jerked away and found a blank terror mask covering her features. Jesus God. Cassie wasn’t in control right now, this was pure terror. A woman working on raw instinct and fighting to get away, to push him away. Desperate to escape. Fuck.
He had laid awake and studied her most of the night without coming to understand what had happened. Couldn’t figure out what she’d lived through to give her such pain. Since he didn’t know that, there wasn’t any way he could know what he had done to trigger it now, but sure as shit, just like last night, what Cassie was going through was on him. I did this. Not knowing what caused the attack, he felt at a loss as to what would better it, so he rapidly ran back over their conversations in his mind. The times they had talked, when he had seen her nearly fall into a panic, but pull herself out.
My voice brought her back last night. Desperate to soothe her, Hoss started talking. Not trying to hold or restrain her, just staying close, he let her hammer at him with her fists and feet, praying she could hear him. “Bravest fucking woman I know,” he said. “I don’t know much about you, but I know you’re brave, Cassie.” Again and again, he spoke of his admiration for her courage, the beauty she had inside her heart, and how he hoped she could trust him.
Gradually her twisting, jerking movements slowed, the unformed sounds of terror clamped behind tightly closed lips trailed off, but were immediately followed by heart-wrenching sobs. Pain and grief and fear ran through those sounds, each of them burned and bit until he knew the memory would be etched on his soul forever.
“Cassie, honey.” Voice shaking, he called out, frantic to break through to her. “Come back to me. Come on, my gorgeous girl, give me those eyes.”
***
Cassie
The pain was what brought her back, surfacing her from the sucking well of panic and fear. Muscles too long tensed were rebelling, and strips of flesh writhed powerfully underneath her skin to wrench a gasp from her throat even as she tried to hold it in.
“Jesus, honey.” She heard the hissed words and then there were hands on her thigh. Pressure dug in to rub firmly at her muscles. Cassie jerked and recoiled in surprise, then found herself brought back to the middle of the mattress by a firm arm around her waist. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”
“Hoss,” she whispered his name and wished it weren’t true, but knew it was. He had stayed. He saw. He saw me. This was like her worst nightmare brought to life.
“Yeah, Cassie.” His voice came from above her, but he wasn’t close, wasn’t leaned into her. He spoke from an unthreatening distance a
way. His hard hands continued to work her muscles, finally easing the painful cramps as stubborn knots gave up the fight. “I’m here, gorgeous.” She remembered hearing those words, remembered his voice cutting through her panic a couple of times, enough for her to tell him to leave, at least. Not that he listened. Her annoyance was followed by a wave of realization that she was glad he hadn’t.
“You stayed.” Sick to her stomach because those were not the words she’d intended to say, but as she spoke, his hand stilled, her skin chilling for a moment before he continued.
“Yeah, babe. I stayed.” Soft and sweet, his voice wrapped around her like a layer of cotton, reassuring and filled with something that sounded like a promise.
No promises. She covered her face and turned away. Promises were made to be broken. Hidden in the exhausted darkness, she gave him honesty. “I wish you hadn’t. I hate when people see. It always feels like I’m on display.”
“Babe,” he said softly. “I’m here.” His hands seemed to hesitate again, then moved up her thighs and paused there, his thumbs rubbing gently. “Nowhere else I’d want to be, if you’ll let me stay.” His hands glided up the outside of her thighs and over her hips to the bare flesh of her stomach. He smiled at her, then gripped her waist. “I’m here.” Hoss held her motionless with the weight of his stare. There was an intensity to his expression she didn’t recognize, and sudden nervousness made Cassie shift restlessly.
Hoss glanced down to where his hands held her body. She knew the moment he saw it—saw them—because his eyes flew back up, fastening on hers. “Cassie,” he breathed her name. Heat rose in her cheeks, scalding her skin as his fingertips trailed down the silvery lines on her belly. Her belly jolted, going concave as his thumb traced the scar that slashed across from hip to hip. “You got a kid?”
“No.” Her voice quavered, and she fisted her hands in the sheets.
Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 4 Page 75
