Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2

by Cherise Sinclair

  The knowledge was impossible to deal with.

  A sound made her look up. Caz walked from the hallway into the kitchen, pulling off his heavy flannel shirt. He probably didn’t even realize she was still there, and now she’d have to…

  The entire front of his T-shirt was shredded and covered in blood. She gasped.

  His head jerked up. “Princesa, I didn’t realize—”

  “What did you do? How badly are you hurt?”

  “It’s just a few scratches. I’ll certainly never put a cat inside my coat again.” He half-smiled. “I tripped over a log, and he panicked.”

  Her head spun as she stared at the blood. Sucking in a hard breath, she forced the emotions away. “I can’t believe you didn’t clean those immediately. Doc.”

  Caz shrugged. “There were more important things to do. Making sure Regan was all right and not hypothermic. Settling everyone down.”

  “Shirt off. Let’s see how bad it is.” She used her LEO voice.

  As he shrugged, obviously deciding not to rile her further, she realized he didn’t play macho games. It was just another reason she liked him so much.

  He pulled off his shirt.

  She winced at the sight of long scratch marks and relaxed. “It’s not as bad as I thought. They’re not too deep. Where’s your first-aid kit?”

  “I’ll get it.” Shirtless, he headed for the hallway.

  And wow. The man was incredibly…male. The finely sculpted musculature of his back was captivating.

  He pulled the first-aid kit from a cupboard in the hall and headed back…and she was still staring.

  His chest was broad with small, dark nipples. The scratches ran across his ribs. Lean ribs.

  “Here you go.” When he handed her the kit, the muscles of his pectorals and biceps bunched and rippled.

  “Thanks.”

  The line of his jeans went across a ridged abdomen.

  He cleared his throat, and she jerked her gaze up. Laughter lightened his dark eyes.

  “Right.” Turning on the water, she took the washcloth he handed her and cleaned the scratches. Applied antibiotic ointment. Applied Band-Aids to the worst spots.

  Rather than watching her hands, he was studying her face.

  “Done.” She started to step back.

  He touched her cheek. “Thank you, JJ. For the first aid. For finding Regan. For caring for her.”

  “She almost d-died.” JJ’s eyes, her nose, her face started to burn, and she swallowed against the thickness in her throat.

  “Ah, princesa,” he murmured and curved his hand around her nape, tucking her head against his shoulder. And she needed to be held so much she ached with it.

  As if he knew, he pulled her closer. “It’s over. Everyone is safe.”

  Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face against his shoulder—and cried.

  Not trying to shush her, he simply held her, making soft comforting sounds, and let her cry herself out.

  Oh God. Still hiccupping with sobs, she felt like a fool. She’d bawled all over him. Why had she done that? But she had. She lifted her head and met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why—”

  “Fear.” Arm still around her waist, he stroked her hair in a gentle caress. “Fear for Regan, for all of us. Exhaustion, too.” He chuckled. “And frustration, because we can’t take it out on her by yelling.”

  She laughed, realizing belatedly that she was still flattened against his bare chest, her hands pressed against his back. All hard muscles covered by taut, velvety skin. She tried to pull back. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’ll be far more hurt if you move away.” Then he froze and shook his head. “Forgive me, I keep forgetting myself.”

  How could he not, considering the way she was behaving? “You’re not the only one acting inappropriately.” She rubbed her cheek against his warm skin, inhaling the faint scent of soap, of clean sweat.

  He could have died out there. If they hadn’t found Regan, he wouldn’t have stopped looking for her. None of them would. Her years in law enforcement had taught her that life could be violent. Brutal. And end far too soon.

  She tipped her head back, running her fingers through his thick black hair, seeing his eyes darken with heat. Going up on tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his.

  When he hesitated, she started to pull back. “Sorry, I—”

  His arms tightened around her, and he pulled her up against his body and kissed her. Totally, thoroughly, wonderfully kissed her, sending desire flooding through her veins.

  Yes, this was what she wanted. To celebrate life. With Cazador.

  He lifted his head, his breath warm against her lips, and she felt his erection against her stomach. His brows drew together. “Princesa, perhaps we should stop before…“

  “No, we’re not stopping.” Belatedly, she remembered what the bartender had said, so long ago. About his rules. “But just for tonight. That’s it.”

  He studied her face then smiled. “Sí. But this is not the place.” Stepping back, he took her hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom.

  Once inside his room, she saw the bed.

  The bed. Nash’s cold voice filled her head. You’re worthless in bed. What kind of a woman can’t get off? She’d forgotten, hadn’t she?

  Everything in her wanted to make love, to kiss and caress and take Cazador inside her. To feel the wonder of being so very intimate with someone she…she cared about. A lot. However, although she’d be content with the closeness of making love, someone like Caz wouldn’t consider that enough. He’d want her to get off. And then they’d both feel bad.

  As he turned the lock on the bedroom door, she shook her head. “Caz.” Her voice cracked as if she were a boy hitting puberty. “I…this isn’t going to work. I’m sorry. I should go home.” She took a step toward the door before she realized he hadn’t let go of her hand.

  In fact, he squeezed her fingers before bringing them up to his mouth. “Your fingers are cold, princesa,” he murmured, moving closer, so she had to look up at him. He tugged her hair, then kissed her slowly, making her toes curl.

  Her fears thinned like mist on the water.

  Until he raised his head.

  “You may always leave if you need to, mamita. But I would like to know why. And since I cannot read your mind, you will have to talk to me.” He pulled her to the bed and sat beside her, his arm behind her back.

  What could she say? She stared down at her lap until he touched her cheek, turning her head so she had to look at him. The room was dim, easing her embarrassment.

  “Downstairs, you wanted to continue.” His eyes were dark, perceptive. “What changed?”

  God, how humiliating. But…okay, if she explained, it would be done. And she’d promised herself that she was done with dishonesty in the bedroom. In relationships. “I did want to, but then I remembered that you might be unhappy when I don’t…when I can’t get off. Not with a guy.”

  “Is there a reason why?” His head tilted slightly. “No, let me rephrase. Can you get off on your own?”

  Had he seriously asked her that?

  He had. Feeling her cheeks heat, she nodded. Once when diving into a pool, her swimsuit top had come untied—and off. She’d climbed out of the water—and had seen everyone pointing to her bare breasts. She could still feel the sting of embarrassment.

  She felt like that now.

  Hand still cupping her chin, he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Does that mean you need more going on than just a dick inside you?”

  Her attempt to move back was halted when he curled his fingers in her hair, taking a firm grip. “No, Jayden, we are talking, not retreating.” His voice was firm.

  Retreating? She stilled. She wasn’t a coward. She could do this. But when her gaze met his, she couldn’t think of what to say next.

  He never seemed to have trouble finding words. “This is good information to have. Oral sex, fingers, toys? Which is your favorite?”
<
br />   Oral sex, totally oral sex. She blushed red. This talking about fucking was impossible. Could she just disappear somehow? Honesty, JJ. “Oral sex, but it’s okay. I know how guys feel about it and, well, I don’t want you to do something you think is gross.”

  His brows drew together. “Someone told you that men don’t like giving oral sex?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Who told you this? Your mamá?”

  “God, no.” She suppressed a snort. Mom hadn’t discussed sex. Ever. “My ex-boyfriend. He, um, started to do it a few times and made gagging sounds and said that’s how guys feel.”

  “Hmm. Time for a detour…”

  “What?” A detour in the discussion of how she got off? She’d totally go for that.

  “Why did you and the cabrón break up?”

  Or not. “You’re sure nosy.”

  His lips quirked as if he’d almost laughed. “Verdad. True. Answer me, please?”

  “He was another officer at the police station. When we started dating, he was really nice, but then…” She frowned. “He started criticizing everything I did. He even lied about how I performed my job. Eventually”—after far too long—“I broke up with him.”

  “Good for you.” Caz’s thumb swept over her lips again, sending tingles down through her. “Mamita, use logic. If the man is that dishonest about work, would he not lie about sex as well?”

  Nash had…lied?

  She must have looked shocked, since Caz chuckled. “JJ, how experienced are you?”

  “Not very. Before Nash, there were a couple of guys. Short-term, not boyfriends. I didn’t have time for men, not with Mom sick. After that, I had the academy and learning to be a police officer.”

  “And so you believed what this Nash said.” He shook his head. “To the truth, then. Any gender can be selfish. Some women don’t enjoy giving blowjobs, no?”

  “I guess.” Actually, she rather enjoyed them.

  Although she hadn’t said a word, his eyes warmed. “A person has the right to say no to things they don’t enjoy. But there should be a balance. Must be a balance.” He rose and stalked across the room, and she stared. He was angry—for her. That was just…heartwarming.

  Caz turned to face her, his gaze direct. “Not all men hate giving oral sex. Your Nash should have said he didn’t like it, and if he wanted blowjobs from you, he should have offered something you enjoyed as much. Especially since women usually need more than a cock pumping away. God knows we males would get irritable if you ignored our dicks the way some men ignore your clits.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. How could he talk about sex so…bluntly?

  Okay, okay, she’d think about the idea of balance later. Bottom line, Nash had lied—and she’d believed him.

  Even worse, she’d been a fool, giving Nash whatever he wanted without receiving anything in return. “I always thought of myself as being into equality. I mean, look at what I do for a living. How could I have been so blind? Such a wuss?”

  “Controlling assholes are stealth attackers, snipping away pieces until your self-esteem is reduced to nothing.” Caz sat back down beside her and put a hard arm around her waist. “Let me correct what Nash said. He didn’t like giving oral sex. Overall, I think more men enjoy it than dislike it, but I don’t discuss sex with others. It’s not something my family does.”

  It was reassuring to know he wouldn’t talk about her to Gabe or Bull. But, now she wanted to know… “Um…”

  His swift grin said he knew exactly what she was wondering. “I love going down on a woman. I love the taste, the smell, using my lips, my tongue, and my fingers.”

  She shivered as her whole lower half turned into a molten pool of desire.

  His masculine chuckle ran over her nerves like warm hand. “Look at those wide eyes. Yes, we are going to fuck. But I think we need to shut off that pendejo’s whispers in your head, princesa.”

  How did he know she’d heard Nash’s voice?

  “So. You are going to trust me.” His smile took on a wicked edge. “I am going to take away your sight, yes, and then…” He pulled her thermal shirt over her head and off, laughing at her squeak of surprise.

  His gaze swept over her and heated. “I love how often you go without a bra.”

  “You… Wait… You know when I’m braless?”

  “I am a man. Of course, I know.” His palms covered her small breasts, his thumbs on her nipples, feather light touches, before he took her mouth again, his hands still on her breasts. The combination sent heat-lightning streaking through her.

  “Tonight is simply for fun. For pleasure. I will enjoy you until I can no longer wait and must be inside you. If you get off, fine. If not, that’s all right, too. Same for me. Tonight, our only task is to savor each other’s bodies, sí?” His nonchalant shrug was very Hispanic. He wouldn’t pressure her to get off, to perform.

  The bundle of anxiety inside her relaxed. “Okay. Yes.”

  Leaning forward, she kissed his shoulder, his neck. “Anything else?”

  “Most certainly,” he murmured and pulled her to her feet. “You will let me be in charge of this session, my inexperienced one. I’ll tell you what I like, what I want you to do. Until I speak, you will lie perfectly still and stay perfectly quiet.”

  “But…”

  “No. Those are the rules. This time.” He’d undone her jeans. With a swift tug, he pulled everything down, off her legs, and helped her step out. “On your back, Officer, or I will find your police handcuffs.”

  She frowned. “That’s not even funny.”

  His eyes danced. “If you won’t share yours, Gabe has a set.”

  “Oh my God. That’s just wrong.”

  “We’ll try it some night.” Before she could answer him, he flattened her on the bed, stepped back, and studied her. “Hmm.” Picking up her shirt, he folded it and laid it over her eyes.

  “You’re not going to tie it?” Her attempt at sarcasm came out breathy instead.

  “No need since you aren’t going to move. At all. No touching me, no wiggling or squirming. No speaking, no breathing hard, no moaning or groaning.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me, mamita. This is my time to play. You may have an equal amount of time with the next round.” He curled her fingers around the headboard’s fancy ironwork. “Don’t let go until I tell you to.”

  Don’t move. Don’t speak. She couldn’t even see what he was doing.

  Every nerve on her skin came alive in anticipation. Where would he touch her?

  The nightstand drawer was opened. Closed. The mattress dipped as he settled beside her. His kiss was warm and gentle, and each breath brought her his dark, spicy scent.

  He ran a finger teasingly over her cheek, down her neck. The air was cool. His finger was warm, stroking across her upper chest. Her nipples tightened to hard, aching points, and she arched her back for more.

  “You will not move, mamita. Not a muscle.”

  Her mouth opened, and he reminded her, “No speaking. No sounds. This is my time, and I am a demanding man.”

  As she tried to relax her muscles, to stay still, his finger circled one breast then the other. Spiraling around, palming, kneading. His thumbnail scraped over her nipple, making her gasp at the magnificent pleasure.

  He played with her, so unhurriedly, even as he talked to her in his rich Spanish-accented voice. “Such pretty breasts. See how the bottom is softer than the top. How tight they’re getting. I like this pink color.”

  With warm fingers, he tugged on a nipple, rolling it, pulling it. “They get longer, harder.” His mouth closed over the throbbing peak, his tongue lashing it, circling. “Mmm, even redder. Let’s see…” He sucked gently then harder. “Yes, there’s a pretty rosy color. Ah, I should make them match.”

  He moved to her other breast. “Freckles. I love the little freckles along here.” His lips grazed over the tops of her breasts.

  Her head spun with the amazing sensations, the way
he played. Shouldn’t she give him something back? Move or moan. No. She’d been ordered to stay still and quiet. But that meant she had nothing to distract her from the sensations playing over her body. Nothing to do but feel.

  His lips moved down—and he blew a raspberry on her stomach. The sound, vibrations startled her, and she yelped and then giggled.

  He kissed her and chided sternly, “No sounds, cariño. You were bad, so you will have to suffer.”

  She wanted to yank the cloth from her eyes so she could see, but no, she had to just lie still, tell her body not to move despite the surging anticipation, despite the way her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. The way her pussy throbbed for attention.

  He put his hand over her mound, and a finger slid inside her—oh, she was slick—and then his tongue licked around one nipple. His mouth closed. Sucked. “Take your punishment silently, mamita,” he cautioned.

  His teeth tightened on her nipple in a light bite. The stinging sensation turned into a heavy, slow wave of pleasure that shook her, rocked her. Her lips tightened over the gasp, and she held so very still—and every touch on her body grew even more exciting.

  “Very good.” He chuckled. “It’s good you enjoy being bit since it’s something I like to do.”

  Oh. My. God. Her nipple burned and throbbed—and was begging for more.

  He moved to the other breast—making them match—before sliding down. His lips were warm on her belly. “So soft. I like softness here very much.” His lips touched her mound. “Plump and begging for my lips.”

  His voice anchored her, stabilized her in the deep waters of desire.

  “Open your legs wide for me, querida. Only move your legs.”

  She spread her legs a few inches and got a light slap on her thigh that made her jump. And burned right to her pussy.

  “Stubborn woman. Wider.”

  She wanted to tell him he was bossy, to frown at him, to divert him from seeing her or looking at her down there. Another teasing slap derailed her thoughts, and she opened her legs.

  “Now there’s a pretty sight.” He settled between her legs. His hands ran over her thigh to soothe the sting, and then he pressed her legs even farther apart. Exposing everything.