Takedown

Home > Other > Takedown > Page 6
Takedown Page 6

by Cari Quinn


  I fell into step with them, surprisingly buoyed at the idea of working out some of my aggression. “Just so you know, I’ve never done much MMA.”

  “Trying to handicap yourself already. Got it.” Fox flashed that cocksure grin. “Sounds like a Walsh trait to me.”

  “No,” I said sharply, hating that my eyes burned with the shame I couldn’t force all the way back. “No fucking handicap. You ever done SEAL training, man?”

  His smile faded even as his expression turned knowing. “Nope. I haven’t. You guys are beasts.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever you can dish out, Knox, I can take.”

  “You got it.” Fox glanced at Jenna, who’d gone quiet between us. “So about that possible dinner next week. Mia and I are invited, right?”

  “Sure. Can either of you bring a dish to pass?”

  “Seriously, squirt? Unless you’re okay with top-shelf Ramen, hell, no. But we’ll chip in for pizza and beer.”

  “Sold.”

  “She’s not old enough for beer,” I said, still feeling like a dick for my earlier outburst. Assimilating to civilian life post-injury wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d wished.

  “I turned twenty-one three weeks ago, Lime.”

  Oh, shit. What kind of brother was I for not remembering that stuff? There just wasn’t any excuse.

  I pulled her against my side as Fox stepped into what I took to be one of the sparring rooms, giving us a moment of privacy.

  “Never again, nugget. I’m not going to miss a birthday or any of your other special moments. I swear it to you.”

  She hugged me back, sniffling softly. “How come you never wrote back to me?”

  “Wrote back when?”

  “I wrote you all these letters….”

  While she told me of the letters she’d sent faithfully to the beach house in Malibu, my mind whirled. I’d stopped checking the mail beyond necessary items too long ago. I barely looked at return addresses anymore, just grabbed what I needed. My suspicion that my family wasn’t trying to make contact with me had caused me to retreat like a damn turtle, and, because of it, I’d hurt my sister and missed out on a chance to talk to her for the past few years.

  “I stopped reading the mail. I got so used to not getting anything…. Goddamn, I’m so sorry, pretty girl.” I squeezed her shoulders. “But I never would’ve ignored you. Ever.”

  Smiling weakly, she nodded. “I’m just glad you’re here and that you’re okay.”

  That was my baby sister, understanding to a fault. She was clearly the best of us. I’d be damned if I would lose any more time with her or the people I loved.

  One way or another, I would work things out with Slater—and Abby. My family was worth everything I had to give and more.

  “I am. I’m here.” I shut my eyes and tightened my grip on her waist. “And I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

  Chapter Six

  Abby

  After Liam’s big speech, I expected him to return to Slater’s sooner rather than later, especially after Jenna had called to make sure Liam would have a place to stay. But Liam didn’t appear. I headed out for a few hours that afternoon to lead a group piano lesson at the music school I taught at in the city, and, when I returned, Slater was MIA and the apartment was empty.

  I didn’t care. I wasn’t waiting for Liam to return.

  Right.

  My evening consisted of a dinner of cornflakes and some last-minute packing, though I didn’t have much to box up. That was one of the reasons it had been so easy for me to make the cross-country move from California to New York. I’d done my best to shed anything that would tie me down, piano aside. Because I wanted to be footloose and fancy free, booyah.

  I did everything possible to delay going to bed, on the off chance Liam showed up. That was simple politeness because someone would have to provide him with bedding for the couch. What had happened earlier had been the natural consequence of seeing someone I’d once been in love with after he’d returned from a likely dangerous mission in a war-torn country. Never mind Slater’s subtle nudges to get me to take a chance on love. I wasn’t yet convinced that Liam was doing anything but blowing smoke my way. The longer he stayed gone, the more I doubted his sincerity.

  Maybe that was just as well. Years had passed. We couldn’t just start up again where we’d left off. Could we?

  Too many of the same issues remained. He risked his life every day, and, as much as I wanted to support him, I just wasn’t sure I could handle the thought of losing him again. Or myself. Last time around I’d made him my whole world. I’d worked hard to find me again, between reclaiming my music, taking a job that really spoke to me, and immersing myself in a city I loved. I wasn’t the same woman I’d been more than two years ago.

  I was better. And from the hints of Liam I’d seen today, so was he.

  When I finally ran out of excuses to put off going to bed, I slipped into my old Broncos jersey and a pair of panties. Far from seduction wear. I had no intention of trying to entice Liam, even if he did arrive.

  I also didn’t anticipate waking up handcuffed to my bed, but plans change.

  “Shh. Easy. It’s just me.” The rich voice next to my ear was deliciously familiar and helped relax the momentary panic of waking up with my wrist locked in place. Helped relax, because nothing would relax me entirely except a shot of bourbon and enough light to prove some crazed molester hadn’t invaded Slater’s apartment in the dead of night.

  Liam’s hand slid under my jersey to tease the lacy waistband of my panties. “You having a good dream about me, baby? You were moaning in your sleep. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to wake you up.”

  I reached up to rub the side of my neck. I’d awakened at the pinch along my jaw, smacking at what had to be a mosquito. Guess again. “You bit me.”

  “Mmm hmm. That wasn’t my preferred spot, but I tried to keep it chaste.”

  “Teeth and handcuffs are never chaste. Or acceptable when a person’s sound asleep and can’t consent to your idea of sex play.”

  “Actually, neither one was sex play per se. The bite—barely a nibble, really—was less offensive than sliding my tongue between your lips and waking you up that way.”

  I swallowed. “Just checking. Which lips are we talking about here?”

  His rough chuckle should’ve been outlawed in at least ten states. “Lady’s choice.”

  “Liam, turn on the light.”

  I expected another taunt, but he just shifted to pull the chain on the small lamp on my bedside table. Rolling back to face me, he propped his head on his hand.

  “Did I scare you? I’m sorry.”

  His genuine contrition caused me to sigh and tug lightly on my wrist. “Yet I’m still handcuffed.”

  “That’s gotta stay for a while. I have some stuff I need to say, and I’d like you to listen.”

  My heartbeat sped up, and I tried not to let my nerves show on my face. “My ears work even when I’m not bound.”

  He toyed with the waistband of my panties again, sliding the pad of his finger over my skin. “I always wanted to tie you up. I never told you that because I thought you’d call me a kinky bastard and run. Back in those days, you were so sweet.”

  Forget a speeding heartbeat. I now had a bass drum pounding in my head—and pulsing between my thighs. “So you decided to just go for it and to hell with what I thought?”

  “No, I thought it would be a good…conversation starter.”

  I so didn’t expect to giggle, but, once I started, there was no stopping me. “Nice try.”

  Halfway through my laughter, it started to subside into something else, something awfully close to crying. Damn, I so didn’t want to do this again today.

  “Don’t,” I begged as he moved closer, his beautiful eyes soft with worry. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll give you a minute.” He pulled me against his ridiculously muscled chest, its dampness belatedly alerting me to the fact h
e’d recently showered. Somewhere. “I’ll give you a lifetime if you’ll let me.”

  “Oh, God, it’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is. I never should’ve let you go.”

  “You didn’t let me go, Liam. You told me we were through.”

  “You weren’t talking to me anymore, and I figured our being apart so much was too difficult. I thought I was doing what was best for you, Abs, I swear. Do you honestly think I could’ve ever told you goodbye otherwise?”

  “I don’t know.” I pressed my wet face into his neck, smelling the fresh scent of soap and deodorant and not one whiff of the smoke that used to accompany him. So much was the same, and so much had changed.

  Maybe too much.

  “I’ll make it up to you. Everything. We can start over.” He thumbed my hair away from my face and brushed a kiss over my forehead. “I l—”

  “It’s so overwhelming having you back again, knowing you’re okay. The rest…don’t,” I whispered, shaking my head. I couldn’t allow him to spill his feelings to me until I came clean about everything, and, God, I still wasn’t ready. Maybe I never would be. “Please don’t.”

  “Why not?” Even in only two words, I could hear his hurt.

  Somehow, after all this time, we still could hurt each other. Maybe we could still heal each other, too. I had to try.

  I stroked my trembling fingers over his jaw and cursed when the handcuff kept me from moving as I wished.

  “Want me to unlock it?” he asked.

  I knew that he would, which made it so much easier to stay under lock and key. “No. Just….”

  “What, baby?”

  “Touch me. Please.”

  “You never have to ask for that.” He slipped his hand under my jersey, sliding upward to wrap strong fingers around my needy breast. His thumb flicked over my nipple, rubbing it into a stiff point before he moved to the other and did the same.

  “You look so hot in this top.” His mouth lowered to tease the hard tips through the material. “It’s too big for you, and then these are so tiny….” He touched my panties, lightly caressing my belly through the silk. “I can’t wait to lick you again. God, I’m fucking starving for you.”

  The sound I made bordered on animalistic. Already I was wet and writhing, the cuff around my wrist only turning me on more. And he’d wanted to tie me up years ago.

  What had I been missing all this time?

  Him. Just him.

  “I’d say the same,” I murmured, “but I can’t move too much.”

  He danced his fingers over the panel of my panties, making slippery inroads between my legs. One step forward, two steps back. My clit pounded for his attention, and my breasts strained against my top while he viewed me with lazy satisfaction that belied the hard column I could see nestled against his left thigh.

  “You want my cock?”

  I licked my lips. He’d never spoken so boldly to me years ago, and I liked it. Hell, I loved it.

  “Only if you can hold on long enough to fuck me.”

  Leisurely, he rose and undid his belt, shedding his jeans, boxers, and shirt at that same unhurried pace. Then he prowled across the bed toward me, caging me in with his ripped, hot torso and mile-long legs. His erection skimmed the apex of my thighs, and I wriggled, trying to get closer.

  “I’ve held on for two years, not counting this morning.” His voice turned gravelly. “I bet I can make it last until I can ride this sweet pussy so hard you can’t stop coming.”

  God, I was shaking, and he’d barely touched me. “You’re not serious.”

  He twisted the silk between my legs, rubbing it up and down between my lower lips, creating the most marvelous friction before he bent to give me his tongue in taunting little swipes over my clit.

  “About you being sweet?”

  That wasn’t what I’d meant. I meant about him holding on for two years. That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? He meant he just hadn’t been with me. But his focus was elsewhere.

  “Ah, baby, taste this, and you tell me.” He eased up my body and slanted his mouth over mine, tangling our tongues in a slick, seductive kiss. I moaned at the flavor he transferred, made so much more intoxicating when delivered on his flesh.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, helpless to give him anything but the truth.

  Gripping his cock, he pushed up my jersey and dragged the damp head across my belly, painting me with his pre-cum. “That’s how much I want you. I could come like this, just from tasting you and seeing that wet spot on your panties, knowing it’s all for me. From looking at those tight little nipples pressing against your top.”

  He dragged the silk along my pussy, increasing the ache in my core. “Still want to suck me?”

  A moan was all I could manage. Then his cock was there, smoothing over the seam of my lips before he gently forged inside. He groaned, long and low, flexing his hips at the tentative strokes of my tongue. I licked him harder, starting to suck, my gaze traveling up to meet his while I fought to steady my flailing hips. As if he knew exactly what I needed, he moved sideways, feeding me his dick that way as he went back to riding my panties up and down my swollen cleft.

  “Ah, sweetheart. That’s it. Take me in.”

  I already was. I craned my neck, driving my head into the pillows, taking as much of him as I could before my gag reflex kicked in. With my free hand, I pumped the base, squeezing him the way I remembered he liked. Hard, fast, no mercy. In return, his excitement coated my tongue, drugging pulses of pure desire. I squirmed, trying to get more of him, pulling futilely at my cuffed wrist while he tormented my poor, abused clit by tugging on my panties over and over. My wetness was soaking through the silk, creating almost unbearable friction.

  “Fuck, I need your pussy.”

  Moaning in agreement around his length, I spread my legs. And was rewarded by him pulling back to lower his face between my thighs, his tongue hot and persistent on my slippery folds. After one lick, I rocketed upward, and I let out a loud whimper, completely forgetting Slater was just down the hall.

  So much for us honoring him by not doing this again in his place. I hoped he could understand.

  I also hoped I wasn’t making a colossal mistake, one my heart might not survive.

  Chapter Seven

  Liam

  God, I needed to be inside her. She was so close to coming already and so was I, my body still primed to hers even after the long years away. As much as I wanted to worship her incredible curves and trace the dark lines of her tattoos with my tongue, I couldn’t wait.

  I had to have her again. To make her mine, this time for good.

  Shifting between her spread legs, I yanked her panties off and flung them aside, bearing her flushed slit to my hungry gaze. I bent to lick her again, savoring her scent and taste with a long groan. She was wriggling again, eager for my touch, and I gave it to her, pushing two fingers deep. Her back arched from my rapid strokes, and her tits jutted out as she neared her peak. Damn, she was beautiful.

  “Let me have it, baby,” I said urgently, craving her final tumble into bliss. I needed to know I was still capable of bringing her to the highest of heights along with the lowest of lows.

  Her hips pumped, and she ground into my palm as if she couldn’t get enough. No matter how hard I finger-fucked her, she obviously longed for more. Her jerky movements inadvertently tugged on the cuff that anchored her to the bed for my visual enjoyment. My little vixen liked being restrained if her drenching arousal meant anything. I got even hotter knowing she trusted me enough to see where I would take her.

  I wanted to give her the world, one screaming climax at a time.

  “The minute you come for me, I’m sliding into you and fucking you straight into another orgasm.”

  Later, I would taste every bit of her salty skin. Kiss her in every hidden, forbidden place.

  My words were all it took. She cried out and finally went flying, her pussy spasming wetly ar
ound my still-flexing fingers.

  Before she’d even come down, I removed my hand and bent to grab my wallet. It was a miracle I’d even remembered. I rolled on a condom and positioned my dick at her entrance, my entire body tensed. I glanced up at her face, wanting to make sure she was with me all the way, and glimpsed her pulling on her distended nipples, working them through her jersey.

  “Fuck, you’re hot.” I lowered my head to nip her taut belly, licking a path over her G-clef down to the top of her hip. Her skin had become a mosaic of her passion, and it made me want to hear her music all the more.

  “You’re going to have to play for me.”

  She jolted. “What?”

  “You heard me. I want to hear you play.” I slipped inside her, unable to hold back another second. Grunting, I pressed deeper, reveling in the sensation of her snug, damp inner walls closing around my erection. So fucking tight. “I want to listen to you play your favorite songs, both the ones you’ve written and others you love, and then when you’re finished, I want to get down on the floor, spread your knees, and lick all that pleasure right out of you.”

  “How do you know I write songs?” she asked, voice shaking and hips still moving with mine in perfect concert.

  “I saw your sheet music before I moved it off the piano. I know some of them were yours. Why didn’t you ever…tell me you played?” Already on the edge, I gripped her leg, pulling it up over my shoulder as I drove deeper, harder, stealing her breath and mine. “I want…Christ, baby, you feel so damn good.”

  “Liam, yes. Please.” She plucked at her nipple, straining at the cuff, her back bowing as she sought another peak. I could feel her orgasm building again around me, every part of her growing slick and taut, and I surged into her harder, farther, going past my own endurance to take her to a place she wouldn’t forget. I loved her like I hadn’t been able to all these years I’d been away. I’d dreamed about shoving her open just like this, powering into her over and over until her cries grew thin and high and the buzzing in my ears turned into a roar.

 

‹ Prev