“What do you want, Bailey?”
“You. Your cock. Me on top of it.”
“I’m not stopping you, baby.”
She reached for my pants and started to undo them as I carried on getting my drink ready. I felt my dick being palmed as I threw back a glass of Scotch.
“I’m going to blow your mind, Zane.”
“You already do,” I breathed truthfully, feeling tired of this whole back and to we’d found ourselves in.
“Okay, then I’m going to blow something else as well.”
I knew she felt my dick jolt in her hand. If she was offering to get on her knees for me, I wasn’t going to stop her. I was going to be the perfect gentleman and hold her hair back. I’d held her hair once or twice before in the past, but that was when we were teenagers and Bailey, the master of stealing liquor from her parents’ stockroom, was puking vodka into the toilet bowl. I was definitely looking forward to this kind of hair-holding a whole lot more. If she was lucky, I might even use that control and force her to throat fuck me instead.
The minute the barest tip of her tongue touched the head of my dick, I had to suck in air through my teeth. “Stop fucking teasing, Bay.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Knowing I had that power over her was better and more satisfying than the power I held over the hundreds of fuckers beneath me in the Teague food chain. If someone took all of that away and left me with just her, right now, I wouldn’t give a shit.
The sound of her enjoyment vibrated through the length of me and touched places deep inside me, so I thrust harder.
This was real power. Having your dick so far down someone’s throat that you controlled not only when they breathed, but if they did at all.
When she walked away from this little fuckfest vacation, I wanted her to remember it, to still feel it, and she would, in the form of a bruise at the back of her throat. When Bailey sat back at her desk in her fuck-me work clothes, I wanted it to hurt every time she swallowed, so she remembered me and just how good we were together.
I was succeeding in my goal until she pulled down sharply on my bollocks. “Fuck! Bailey!” I immediately pulled back, releasing her mouth, feeling saliva and spittle dribble from the end of my dick onto my thighs. When I looked down at her she was panting and still connected to me through a string of spit and fluid.
“Getting carried away, weren’t we?” she garbled, continuing to massage my balls to within an inch of that pleasure and pain barrier.
“Didn’t you say something about getting on top of my dick?”
That lusty, needy look returned to her eyes. “I did.”
“Then shed those fucking clothes so I can see all of you while you do it.”
Bailey was naked almost instantly, her skin was flushed red and her nipples were all fucking pointy and begging to be flicked and pinched, hell, fucking bitten, which I was so going to do as soon as that pretty pussy connected with the crown of my rock-hard dick.
Like the lord and master I was, I went to my sitting room and got ready on a chair, lowering my pants and stroking myself as I waited for her to come to me. I watched as she licked her lips and went to toe off her shoes. “Leave those on, you’re going to need that extra height.”
I’d always teased her about being shorter than me and it brought out the bitch in her, that competitive side, and if nothing else, my little jab would ensure she gave it her all and fucked me with every ounce of energy she had. It was what I wanted and what we both needed, to be consumed so completely by the other, so we could remind ourselves what it could be like when we were together.
Bailey stilled in front of me, watching my face, but all I could think about was how I could sense that she was ready for this. Us.
“Climb on, baby.”
I moved to pull her down, facing me so I could kiss her lips and play with those perky nipples, but she spun around, showing me her heart-shaped ass before she stepped wide either side of my thighs and encouraged me to guide myself into her. This was without a doubt her favored position. Stretched wide and filled deep. She lowered herself slowly and gently, flexing her hips so she could accommodate all of me. Intent on getting to those nipples, I traced a finger up her side, under her tit and made it to my desired destination.
“Move.” That one, hoarse word left my lips on both a command and a plea.
I pinched her nipple hard because there was no point easing Bailey into the action, she was already on her game. I knew her body now and knew what she needed, and I was more than happy to give it to her. Bailey responded accordingly with a sharp upstroke and a heavenly, severe punch back down. I was so deep inside her I had to grit my teeth and work hard to stop my eyes from rolling back in my skull. “That’s it, baby.”
I coaxed her until she felt it and like every other time, I was in danger of losing it before she did. I wanted us to flow together to give her just another reminder of how perfect we were.
Grabbing her ass cheeks, I separated them sharply and her cry of shocked pain did nothing to slow down what I was trying to stave off.
“More!” she screamed, and when I looked at her tiny, puckered hole, I pistoned my hips upwards into her.
“More goddammit!” she shouted and this time I felt her insides start with that telltale quiver. She was there, right on the edge, and so was I.
Pushing her forward and bending her double turned her moans to groans, especially because I refused to ease up on my assault of her. “One day, I’m going to fuck you everywhere. Even here,” I pushed the tip of my finger into her puckered hole.
“Ah!” she was coming now; I could feel her reaction taking hold of her.
“Do you want that, Bailey? Fucking answer me!”
“Yes! Yes! I want that.”
Those words and hoping that she was unspoiled and untouched in that place did the trick, and while her cunt was rippling and strangling my dick, I finally succumbed and unleashed everything I had inside her. I let go to that beautiful moment when I felt my cum pumping into her.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever given that much during sex and I wasn’t planning on that being my only performance of the evening, but I was going to catch my breath for a few minutes to be ready again. I rubbed her back gently.
“You are the most dangerous thing in my world, Bay,” I murmured, and she shifted as I tenderly caressed her smooth skin. “Let’s take that bottle to bed,” I whispered, pulling her back up straight and kissing her spine.
“Okay, I’m just going to cool down a bit first.” She climbed off me, completely unashamed of her nakedness and walked through the patio doors. Her stilettoes clicking sharply on the tiled floor, her silhouette fucking ethereal in the moonlight.
Leaving her to her moment, her thoughts, I buttoned up my pants, grabbed the liquor, glasses and ice bucket, and headed upstairs. Not long after, I jolted awake when I felt her standing there watching me. I’d fallen asleep sat up against the headboard of the bed, looking out through the balcony doors at the same moon she was under outside. Seeing her hair blow in the breeze in sync with the waves below did something to me, and it was then that I understood complete and utter perfection.
It was her.
Here with me, in this place I loved.
“You going to stand there watching me or come to bed?” I said, never moving my gaze from the moon.
Bailey climbed in next to me under the sheet and her skin was cool, just like she’d wanted.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, pulling her closer.
At that, her head moved my way and I saw her eyes glisten with tears. It gutted me, slayed me, to see all our fears finally alive on her face. It felt like I couldn’t hold her close enough to convince her that this would all be fine, and we could do this. Every time she wasn’t in my arms, it felt like she was slipping further away from me and I didn’t want her to think that we wouldn’t work outside of sixty-seven steps to heaven.
“Don’t cry, baby.” My whis
pered words had the opposite effect and try as she might to contain her tears she couldn’t, with an arm clasped tightly round my middle and her head on my chest, I felt the salty sadness of her tears soak deep into my soul.
I hated to see her this upset, but I needed to exhaust all of her sadness and purge those demons so we could work through it rationally and move on together.
I don’t know how long they lasted but they overtook everything. They clouded the moon and made the ocean sound angry and stormy, like it reflected all the emotions we were both feeling right then in that room. As her tears started to abate, I felt her hand come up to my collar bone and her fingers gently trace my tattoo. It felt so sad, so final, like she was using it instead of words to remind me again of why we wouldn’t work.
I wouldn’t accept it; I’d never gone down without a fight before and Bailey wasn’t leaving my bed until I’d won this one too.
But before I could try, put forward my case, my very effective business plan that would convince her, her breathing changed and shallowed. The exhaustion of all her sadness had taken her to sleep and I felt the tiniest bit of relief that I had some time to come up with the right words to say to her. In the morning, we’d have a very honest, very deep and much needed conversation about how I was done with her negativity. How I was going to overcome any problem her brother voiced about us becoming a couple.
I’d waited and listened to Jameson Roach for too long, he was my best friend, but it was about time that he listened to me.
Chapter Fourteen
The sun streamed through the open balcony doors and its intensity was scorching the fuck out of my back and legs. It was high in the sky and a direct hit on my skin. If it hadn’t woke me up, I’d still be out for the count. You’d think it would make me balk about the one time I used a blowtorch on someone who betrayed me, but no, that cunt had deserved it.
The bed beside me was empty, not surprising really. Bailey had wrung herself out last night and her side of the bed was closer to the sun’s furnace effects than mine was. She was probably desperate to escape its rays and let me rest. But I liked how I already thought of her claiming that side. This place was ours.
The beginning.
In the bathroom I strained my ears, listening for some sound, wondering if she was cooking breakfast. My smile at the thought of taking her on the countertop again soon slipped when I realized the house was completely silent.
With an uneasy feeling sweeping through me, I pulled on my pants from the night before. Unable to shake the fear that something was wrong, I stepped onto the balcony, shielding my eyes from the sun and scoped my entire view. She wasn’t on the day bed, walking along the beach, or swimming in the sea.
My pulse popped and jumped as I stalked barefoot downstairs, all the while the heart-breaking silence hinted at what I prayed wasn’t true.
No breakfast things.
And no Bailey.
“Fuck!” I raced back to the stairs and flew up them two at a time.
Her case was gone.
Bailey had upped and left me while I fucking slept.
While I was dreaming of a future for us, mentally preparing a speech to convince her we were the perfect match, she was plotting her escape and trying to figure out how to sneak off.
My whole body was wired tight with a type of rage I’d never felt before. It begged me to let loose, explode and unleash this fury instantly. The last time she’d got me this close to mental annihilation was when I’d taken a second look at that video of her being train fucked and enjoying it.
I went back to the balcony and leaned my taut, muscly, angry frame against the side. I breathed deep and heavy, in time with the ocean, praying it would work its magic and do it quickly.
But I was on my own and I had no idea how to rein my shit in.
Bishop was usually on hand to sort me out, but the problem was that this wasn’t just anger, it was rage tainted with what felt like incurable disappointment.
Ugly disappointment that was so bitter and so fucking gutting, I may as well have stuck a knife in my gut.
My chest heaving, I spun around, and as my arms shook with the rage trying to break out of me, I grabbed a chair and launched it over the side. The wood splintered, but that sound in the calm Hawaiian quiet wasn’t enough.
I needed more.
My rage needed more.
More release.
More destruction.
Blindly stumbling against my pain down the stairs, I moved through the house, laying waste to anything in my path.
Ornaments were cast aside until they smashed. Chairs were picked up and smacked into the ground until they cracked and gave way. Artwork was violently trashed against the floor until it broke apart, until the whole place looked like nothing more than kindling heading for a fire.
In a few minutes, my sixty-seven steps to heaven was more like a one-way path straight to hell. I was heaving from the exertion, but still, it wasn’t enough. I needed to wreak more havoc to counteract and balance out the destruction swirling inside me.
I needed disruption.
I wanted blood and needed to smell it, preferably as it flowed out of someone. It didn’t matter whose, just someone’s to take the brunt of this. Someone to pay for anything and everything I couldn’t calm down inside me.
The vase by the front door table had escaped my destructive path, but I needed what it held now. I needed the gun to get that bloodbath really started. I delved inside, desperately seeking the cold steel to connect with my pulse and make everything right, but it was gone.
She’d taken my fucking gun.
She knew what leaving me would do and she took away the one thing that would calm my rage.
Instead, was a piece of folded up paper that made my heart plummet. I held it between my fingers like it was contaminated with harmful bacteria and stumbled backwards until my ass hit the marble stairs. Had I discovered this on my way past it I may have saved the destruction of all my furniture. As I unfolded it carefully, my nose picked up the barest hinted scent of her perfume and with each unfold the ink became clearer.
Z,
We knew what this was.
We knew it.
There are too many obstacles to make it work away from here. Don’t hate me, I’m doing enough of that for both of us. I didn’t want to run out, but you know I’m doing us a favor.
You would have never let me go.
Thank you for giving me what I thought I’d never have.
You.
You and me.
But we both know this is for the best. One of us had to do it before we both got in too deep and destroyed it all beyond repair. One of us had to be the strong one.
B
God really fucking hated me. Not that I could blame him, I was the biggest sinner who’d decided to push his luck. I’d taunted him by going to that church and bearing my soul wide open. Sending up that prayer had caused this, it had got my hopes up and he was teaching me a lesson right now, one I was in no shape to deal with. He knew I was about to go all in and wanted to kick me back into line. Someone like me could not do the shit I did and expect to be rewarded with what he truly wanted.
I read the words over and over, trying to see the sense in what she’d done, but I couldn’t, I was too broken and angry.
How fucking dare she decide for the both of us.
No one decides what’s best for me but me, Zane fucking Teague.
“Fuck!” I screwed up the paper and threw it at the floor. This cut so deep it was a wonder there wasn’t blood and guts all over the floor. How could she walk away from this, like we were nothing, just like that?
Everything we’d shared and done, all the sex, the beachside chats, had meant nothing to her. It’d all been a lie and realizing that was making my heartbeat too fast, too fucking loud. I’d been prepared to move heaven and earth to make us a real possibility. I’d been willing to go up against her brother, my best friend, and it still wouldn’t have been enough for her. I
was going to disrupt everything and blow my whole world apart for Bailey Roach and it would have been a mistake.
I lashed out, my fist connecting with the brilliant white-washed wall once, twice and finally on the third time, my knuckles split open. The blood I needed to see spilled was staining the plaster. It wasn’t enough, so I went back to the wall, to go a fourth time, to really let the rage of Zane free. I pulled my fisted hand back, stalling from more obliteration when someone knocked at the door.
“Fuck off.”
“It’s Graham.”
“I said, fuck off!”
All went quiet until I heard the door handle click and rattle until more of the sickly, sweet sunlight flooded the hallway.
“Jesus Christ. Roxanne!” he shouted behind him. “Stay in the car.”
He hadn’t seen me yet, sitting on the stairs relishing the destruction of furniture on the ground floor. As he stepped in, his foot kicked the crumpled-up note and he bent down to pick it up.
“Unless you want your woman visiting you in the ER, you’ll leave that there.”
My words startled him, and he looked in my direction. I watched him gulp nervously and then take in the bloody wall and the state of my hand. Instead of cowering at my words, he stepped in further. My respect for Roxy’s husband was growing, he was getting a glimpse at the real me, but still he didn’t run. He thought he was a match for me.
“Looks of that hand, we could be going there anyway,” he muttered wryly.
“I’ve had worse.”
Graham closed the door and came closer. He shook his head and looked me in the eye. “Don’t doubt that for a second.” He definitely knew more than Roxanne gave him credit for.
“What the fuck do you want?” My respect for him might have grown, but I was in no mood to be sociable.
Disruption Page 13
