A Daring Journey: The Dare Menage Series, Book 6

by Jeanne St. James

  She came once with their fingers, once with his mouth, now she was ready to do the same with his cock. She began to rock faster, keeping him as deep as possible. His hot breath beat a rhythm along her skin, his fingers gripped her ass even harder and the muscles of his thighs tensed beneath her.

  He was close, too.

  “I...” She tried to gather her swirling thoughts. “I want you to kiss me... when I come.”

  He pulled his face from her neck and took her mouth, sealing their lips together. And with that, everything exploded from her center, curling her toes, digging in her fingers, crying into his mouth. Then he groaned into hers as his hips surged up and his cock pulsated as she clenched around him, squeezing him, her own core rippling with her climax.

  After a moment, he released her mouth and pushed to his feet, keeping their connection, turned and put her on the bed. He was still hard, though she doubted that would last much longer. He settled between her thighs and continued to fuck her. His hips relentlessly pistoned in and out of her, his thumb now on her clit, putting the perfect pressure there. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she threw her head back as he took her to that precipice again.

  His thrusts were anything but gentle, but she welcomed them. For some reason, he wanted her to come again, and she was not going to deny him that.

  Hell, she wasn’t going to deny herself that.

  Within moments, she wasn’t disappointed. Between his attention to her clit and his cock hitting the right spot, he ripped every bone out of her body until there was nothing left of her. Just a satisfied, dazed shell, who couldn’t move for a very long time.

  But then, she didn’t have to. Damon cleaned her up and tucked her into bed, then went down and heated their meals, making sure she was fed before gathering her in his arms and curling around her as she fell asleep, sated with great food and even better sex.

  Mac blinked. She was not in her own bed, but even half-asleep she quickly figured out where she had wakened. The dark muscular arm curled around her waist and the warm, steady breath tickling her ear was an obvious clue.

  She closed her eyes, sighed and wiggled her hips back until she was spooned against him. His cock was soft and hot against her ass and she smiled as she thought about the second round of sex they had in the middle of the night.

  Even though they’d both been exhausted, it was just as good as the first time. Damon had taken his time, drawing a couple orgasms from her with skill. She must have fallen sleep again when he was still inside her, once they were both spent. Sometime after that, he must have pulled out and disposed of the condom.

  When her stomach growled she pressed a hand against it, hoping to quell the noise.

  “Hungry?” His deep voice was rough with sleep.

  “Apparently.”

  “It’s early,” he stated the obvious.

  “I’m an early riser.”

  “I tend to sleep in on my days off since my schedule can be crazy. You fell asleep on me.” Amusement, not condemnation colored his tone.

  “Sorry, you tired me out.”

  “Then you slept well?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “Surprisingly. Especially since I’m not in my own bed and not used to having anyone else sleeping with me, either.”

  His body shook. “Just so you know, I’m tempted to fist bump you for that second part.”

  Mac laughed. “While I’m not a virgin—”

  He gasped and in a dramatic stage whisper said, “Yes, I was shocked.”

  She smacked his arm lightly. “I also don’t sleep with just anyone. Otherwise, I would have responded to the five hundred messages on the Boston Singles app.”

  He pressed his face into her hair. “Mmm. Five hundred? That could’ve kept you busy for a while.”

  That comment had her curious... “How many dates have you gone on from the app?”

  “A few.”

  “I assume without success since I’m in your bed right now.” She twisted her head but she couldn’t see his face since it was buried in her hair. “Or am I just one of many?”

  “You are just one. Period. I wasn’t looking for quantity, just quality.”

  “Nice. Now I want to fist bump you.”

  “I agree, the woman in my arms, in my bed, in my home is very nice. In many ways. I’m thankful I switched things up that day I met you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I usually leave the thanking of passengers to my co-pilot since, amazingly enough, some people, even in this day and age, don’t like the idea of a black man being their pilot.”

  This time it wasn’t only her head that twisted, her whole body did as she turned to face him. “Really?”

  Their faces were only inches apart on the pillow. “Really. Prejudices are still alive and well in the good ol’ US of A. I won’t tell you some of the lovely comments I’ve heard.”

  Mac grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  Damon smiled gently and pushed a lock of her unruly hair from her face. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize for racist assholes. I would love to see their heads explode when they find out their black pilot also enjoys sex with men.” He made a sound of an explosion with his mouth.

  “Or white women,” she added.

  “Yes, I’ve heard pretty nasty comments about that, too. One time in college, when I had a date with one, we were at the movies, minding our own business, and someone came up to my date and told her—after calling her a name I won’t repeat—that no white man would ever want her again. She was ruined for her own race.”

  “Holy shit,” Mac whispered.

  “I told him that I wrecked her pussy with my Mandingo cock. So he was right, she was ruined for all white men.”

  Mac’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”

  His lips twitched. “I did. I shouldn’t have, especially since it was our first date and we’d never had sex, but I was seeing red. Since then, I’ve learned to keep my responses to myself.”

  “I take it the date didn’t end well.”

  “It didn’t. I lost money on her ticket since she stormed out. However, I did stay to watch the movie and eat the popcorn that cost a small fortune. I also asked that asshole’s wife if she wanted me to wreck her pussy, too. So hopefully his night was ruined as much as mine was after his wife yanked him out of the theater.”

  Mac covered her mouth to smother a giggle.

  His expression became solemn. “Honestly, I thought I might get shot when I left the theater after the movie. I expected him to be out there lying in wait for me, ready to take out the ‘dirty—‘” He clamped his mouth shut.

  Mac cupped his cheek, feeling the muscles work in his jaw. “Luckily, everyone doesn’t think like that.”

  “No, but enough people still do.”

  A frown creased his brow and she tried to smooth it away without success. “I hope one day it changes, but I doubt we’ll see that in our lifetime.”

  He opened his mouth, hesitated, then shook his head. “Enough about that. It’s morning and I owe you breakfast.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to laze around in bed for a little while longer?”

  The corners of his lips curled as he traced his fingers along her jaw, then over her lips. “If we stay in bed, we won’t be lazing.”

  “I’m fine with that, too.”

  “Maybe I’ll just make brunch.”

  Mac’s laughter soon changed to breathless cries.

  Chapter 8

  Damon rolled onto his back, his breathing coming quickly, his skin damp with sweat. He turned his head to see MacKenzie, also flat on her back, trying to recover just like him.

  He placed a palm over his heart, feeling the heavy thump, thump, thump.

  There was something about the woman lying next to him. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he’d been truthful earlier when he said he’d been glad he saw her on the plane. If his co-pilot hadn’t been running late for a connecting flight, then he might n
ever had met her.

  And that would’ve been tragic.

  They had a chemistry neither could ignore. And not only was MacKenzie—or Mac as she wanted him to call her—beautiful and intelligent, she was open minded, which was a relief. He hadn’t been lying about how the world still held many prejudices. However, she seemed to hold none. Not with his skin color, nor with his sexuality. He’d been open about it with her from the get-go just to make sure.

  He didn’t want to get too far along only to find out the woman he was interested in held something against him deep down inside. It happened before. He’d dated a woman last year, who, while she didn’t care that he was black, when he just casually mentioned that he was bisexual, she suddenly shut him down and out.

  Why that made a difference, he didn’t know. His skin tone was external, easy to see, but his sexuality wasn’t. Now he always slipped that little tidbit of information in somewhere on the first date, even if the date was with a man. Some gay men looked down on bisexuals, saying they should “pick a side.”

  Damon wasn’t picking anything. He was leaving his options open. He wanted the right person. He didn’t care if they were man or woman, bi, gay or straight, purple, orange or yellow. He wanted someone he clicked with.

  So far, he found himself clicking with Mac, but it was very new yet.

  He rolled out of bed to dispose of the condom, making a mental note to buy more. They’d had more sex in the last twenty-four hours than he’d had in months. “I’m going to jump in the shower, then head down to make you a meal. Take your time getting out of bed. I’ll put some fresh towels out for you and just come down when you’re ready.”

  Mac stretched her arms over her head and yawned before giving him a smile. “Sounds like heaven.”

  “Stop!” he yelled before she could put her arms down.

  She froze, her blue eyes wide.

  “Don’t move.” He hurried back to the bed, grabbed her arm and then kissed a spot near her elbow. When he was done, he murmured, “That’s my freckle, MacKenzie. I’ve just claimed it.”

  When he released her arm, she stared at the spot where he kissed. “Just that one?”

  “Yes, that one’s mine. So when you look at it, you’ll think of me.”

  A mix of surprise and warmth crossed her face. He gave her a nod and went into the master bathroom to take a shower.

  He wasn’t under the hot spray for more than two minutes when he heard a tap at the door and it open.

  “Damon... sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt, but...”

  He pulled the shower curtain back to see Mac standing in the bathroom doorway wearing his discarded dress shirt from last night, her face pale.

  “What’s wrong?” Without waiting for her answer, he rinsed off quickly and turned off the water. He pulled the curtain all the way open. “Can you hand me my towel?”

  She stepped farther into the room and snagged a large towel off the rack. He thanked her and wiped the water from his face. He started to ask again what was wrong, but he cut his words off when he heard what the problem was.

  “Someone has been pounding on the door.”

  Obviously.

  Someone soliciting would knock normally. Whoever it was, was clearly impatient.

  Fuck.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should answer it.”

  He wrapped the towel around his waist. “No. I’ll deal with it. Stay up here and do what you need to do so we can eat soon.” He made sure his towel was secure, and on his way past Mac, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I won’t be long.”

  Damon set his jaw as he took his time descending the stairs and when the front door came into view, his anger ratcheted up a few notches.

  He twisted the deadbolt and flung open the door but stepped forward to make sure Trevor’s path was blocked. “You have some fucking nerve,” he growled.

  Trevor stepped back like he’d been hit. His nostrils flared, and his gaze swept slowly over Damon, who did his best not to show it affected him.

  Mac was upstairs, and she was perfect for him. No one sane needed a headache like Trevor.

  “It’s early Saturday morning—”

  “It’s ten.”

  Damon ignored his interruption and talked right over him. “And there’s no good fucking reason you are standing on my doorstep. And there was no good fucking reason to be here yesterday morning, either.” When Trevor opened his mouth, Damon lifted his palm. “And, for fuck’s sake, there was definitely no good reason to show up at a bar to confront me. None, Trevor. So, go the fuck away. You’re trespassing. Don’t make me call the police.”

  Trevor lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Call the police, Damon, if you must. But I need to talk to you. Please. Just... Just give me a few minutes of your time.”

  Damon fought to keep his voice low, though he wanted to snap and snarl like a pissed off junkyard dog. “Why? You didn’t give me a few minutes of your time five years ago. Not even two minutes to tell me what the fuck was going on with you. Not even thirty seconds on why you packed your shit and split. So don’t expect any courtesy from me.”

  “I’m just asking for a chance to explain. It may make things easier.”

  “Easier for who? You? To relieve your guilt? For you to try to convince me to take you back? Or to forgive you? If it wasn’t important to explain back then, why is it so important now?”

  Trevor took a step forward, his expression twisted with an emotion that speared Damon right in the heart. “Because I love you,” he whispered, his words broken. “I’ve always loved you and always will.”

  Damon tried to steel himself against those words, that confession. The truth he knew. He was devastated the day he discovered Trevor gone. While he knew the man still loved him, he just didn’t know why he left. And maybe that was what made losing him all the more difficult.

  If they had been fighting... Or their chemistry had disappeared. If one of them had cheated. If... anything. Instead of nothing to indicate what the problem had been.

  Damon swallowed the lump in his throat and that lump was him fighting the urge to confess that he still loved Trevor, too. But that love had been damaged.

  He also had to remember who this was standing on his stoop. “Trevor, I loved you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Create a family.”

  “I know. That was part of the problem.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. This was Trevor, Trevor, at his front door. The pain he had dealt with back then... He couldn’t do it again. No explanation was going to help. Time had only helped slightly. Also, getting back to dating had helped somewhat. “I have a woman upstairs in my bed. I like her a lot, Trevor. Don’t mess this up for me.”

  “Then tell me when’s a good time to come back. When you’re alone and can talk. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  No, that wasn’t all he was asking for. Damon could see it in his face. He wanted a second chance. He wanted Damon to forgive him and forget everything it took to patch his broken heart. He wanted to make Damon vulnerable again.

  Trevor’s gray eyes lifted above Damon’s shoulder and what looked like hurt crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I didn’t realize... I just wanted some time...” Trevor was no longer talking to him.

  Damon stared at his own bare feet as he finally heard what Trevor saw: MacKenzie coming down the steps. He wondered how much she’d heard.

  When he turned and saw she was dressed, he grimaced. She most likely heard everything. He couldn’t read her expression because she kept it carefully blank.

  As her feet hit the foyer floor, she said, “You should give him the time, Damon. There’s clearly something between both of you that needs to be settled. I’ll leave and let you two talk it out... or... whatever.”

  Damon grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past him. “No, MacKenzie, you don’t need to leave. Trevor will go.”

  She stared down at his hand on her arm, covered it with her own, then
squeezed. “It’s fine. We can have breakfast another time.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause an issue.”

  “Yes, you did, Trevor. Her car is in the driveway and you knew it wasn’t mine since you saw what I drive yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” Mac asked, looking from Damon to Trevor and back. “You already talked?”

  Damon shook his head, while Trevor said, “No, he wouldn’t let me in.”

  She frowned. “Damon, I think you two need to at least talk.”

  “Mac, you don’t know—”

  “I don’t need to know. I see his face. I see your face. You two need to talk. It’s fine.”

  It’s not fine, Damon wanted to yell. None of this was fine. No one volunteered to have their chest ripped open and their heart smashed to smithereens all over again.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  Mac hesitated before saying, “Sure.” She pushed past Damon, the arm where he claimed her freckle just a little while ago, brushing against him.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Damon insisted again, setting his jaw as he watched MacKenzie follow his walkway to her car. Within a minute, she was gone.

  He turned his attention back to the man in front of him. “You knew she was here.”

  “No, I had no idea.”

  “Bullshit,” Damon muttered under his breath, then stepped back into the foyer, unblocking Trevor’s path.

  Trevor only hesitated a few seconds before following him inside. Damon closed the door and spun on him. He pointed to his living room off the foyer. “Sit. I’m going to go get dressed.”

  Trevor’s eyes raked over him once more. “Must you?” His attempt at a laugh fell flat between them.

  Damon pressed his lips together and headed back up the stairs. Every step he took felt like a knife being plunged into his heart. He wasn’t sure he’d survive a simple discussion with Trevor. But then, he was sure it wasn’t going to be simple. Not even close.

  When he got to the bedroom, he went directly to his cell phone and sent Mac a text: Sorry. That wasn’t how I planned our morning. I promise to call you later.