Kicker (DS Fight Club Book 1)

by Josie Kerr

  Tig’s fingers danced across her shoulders and back, then fluttered over her neck and cheek, not pressuring her, only reassuring her of his presence. He pressed his lips against her hair once again. “So beautiful,” he murmured against her hair.

  They continued to kiss while Tig finished undressing Charlotte. She stepped out of her skirt when it dropped to the floor, and she stood in front of Tig, in that same bra and panty set and pair of high heels that originally took his breath away.

  “Goddamn.” Tig whistled low through his teeth. “Man, you are something else, baby.”

  Charlotte blushed and flipped the heavy weight of her hair over her shoulder.

  And promptly got it tangled in her watchband.

  “Holy crap!” Charlotte hissed. “Ouch.”

  Tig stood with his mouth open for a moment, and then he guffawed.

  “Tig. Help me, you . . . man!”

  Tig was still laughing even as he helped get Charlotte untangled. By the time he got her loose, she was laughing as well, but her hair was a snarled mess.

  “Where’s your hairbrush, honey?” he asked, wiping a tear from her face while she still giggled.

  Charlotte gestured to the bathroom, and Tig made his way there, shaking his head.

  He located the brush and huffed a small laugh. Pink and sparkly. Figures.

  “Okay, doll, let me take care of you.”

  Tig made Charlotte sit down at her small vanity. He began to brush her hair, first working out the small snarls with his fingers and then brushing it with long, fluid strokes until it gleamed and rippled like a stream of ink.

  When he looked at Charlotte’s face in the mirror, he was surprised and saddened to find it tear streaked.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “It was my pleasure,” he said softly, and once again, kissed the side of her face.

  Charlotte caught Tig’s arm, and he stayed close to her for a long moment before nudging her to the bathroom where she allowed him to wash her face and give her more kisses.

  And then she led him back to the bedroom and pushed him down on the bed.

  He grinned up at her, and she realized that she had been parading around, practically naked except for her shoes and lingerie, while Tig remained completely dressed except for his cowboy hat. And she had not thought twice about it.

  She grinned back at him and stepped out of one shoe but stopped when Tig’s face crumpled into a frown.

  “What?”

  “You’re gonna leave those heels on, girl, or I’m gonna be really disappointed.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes—but put her shoe back on—and climbed onto the bed. She leaned down over Tig, whose hands immediately started roaming over her back and ass. “Better, Kicker?”

  “Oh, much better.”

  *****

  The next morning, Charlotte padded into the living room to find Tig sitting on her couch, towel around his waist, cowboy hat on his head, reading the newspaper, and sipping a cup of coffee.

  She covered her mouth to stifle her giggle. “Good morning, Tig.”

  “Hey, darlin’. Did you sleep well?”

  Charlotte nodded, suddenly shy.

  Tig glanced down at himself, as if suddenly realizing that his attire might not be exactly what Charlotte was expecting, and then grinned. “I took the opportunity to do some laundry. I hope you didn’t mind. I grabbed a towel out of the dryer so I wouldn’t be sitting bare-assed on your new sofa.”

  Charlotte smiled more and shook her head. “Bare-assed would be fine by me.” Charlotte. I cannot believe you just said that.

  Tig grinned broadly and put the newspaper down. “Well, how about that?” And he stood up, the towel dropping off his waist.

  Charlotte did not know where to look or not look, so she tried to look at it all, and when he sidled up to her, she automatically put her hands on his trim hips.

  “Good morning, pretty lady,” he whispered and bent down to touch his lips to hers. “What did you want to do today?”

  “I don’t know.” She stroked his bare hip.

  Tig took off his hat and sank to his knees in front of her

  “Tig, what are you . . . ?” Charlotte began to ask, but his pulling her panties down rendered her speechless—even more so when he pulled her to him and put his mouth on her mound under her short nightie.

  “Oh.”

  Tig chuckled as he pulled her leg over his shoulder to better get at where he wanted. He kissed her mound but then pulled his head back. “Is this okay? Can I do this?”

  Charlotte nodded, and Tig grinned.

  “All right.” And he dove back under the nightdress to return his mouth to her. He pushed her back to the end of the couch, and with a wink, propped her up and spread her legs, making her shriek and giggle.

  And when he had finished making her sweaty and squirmy and breathless, he brought her over so completely that all she could do was lay back on the couch, stunned, while Tig grinned up at her.

  “Wow.”

  Tig chuckled, crawled up on the couch next to her, and cradled her against his chest. When he kissed her, she could smell herself on him, and somehow, that made it even hotter.

  Charlotte looked into Tig’s light blue eyes, examining his almost white eyebrows and eyelashes, and grinned.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself, pretty lady.”

  “Um. That was nice.”

  “Sure was.”

  “So. What do you need?”

  “Me?”

  “If you could do or have anything right this minute, what would it be?”

  Tig’s face grew thoughtful as he traced a finger over her eyebrow. “For just a day, to lose myself in a particular pretty lady and not think about a damn thing other than how I was gonna make her scream my name the next time.”

  Charlotte huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

  She looked at his earnest face that was both so youthful and so wizened at the same time. “Oh, Tig,” she breathed. “What am I gonna do with you?”

  “I might have some ideas,” he said with a grin. “How many condoms do you have in that prissy nightstand of yours?”

  *****

  Tig was sprawled out in Charlotte’s bed, laughing his fool head off at the look of surprise on her face.

  “Well, hell, sugar. I certainly did not expect that from you,” he said, still chortling. “Jesus. Who would have thought?”

  Charlotte pulled the sheets around her and tried to look prissy but ended up rolling around, giggling as well. She shrugged. “I thought it might be interesting to try. . . .”

  Tig resumed guffawing. “It was certainly that. You got some tricks up your sleeve, woman.” He leaned over and kissed Charlotte’s bare shoulder and then chuckled some more.

  “I’m not wearing any sleeves.” More laughing.

  “No, you’re not. You’re not wearing anything except for that beautiful smile of yours.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Oh, man.” He winked at her and pulled her close to him.

  Charlotte cupped Tig’s face in her hands. “This has been probably the nicest weekend I’ve ever had in my whole life.”

  Hearing things like that made Tig sad—sad that he did not meet Charlotte earlier, sad that she had had so little joy in her life that being given the business by a peanut farmer constituted a notable high point. He pulled her into his chest so she could not see his reaction, and he just held her close for a long moment.

  Charlotte’s nimble, curious fingers brought him out of his reverie with a whoop. “Holy shit, Charlotte. Good Lord.”

  It was Charlotte’s turn to laugh at Tig’s expression. “What?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

  Tig kicked the covers off and pointed at his hard cock. “This is what. How do you do this to me, over and over again?”

  “I thought you liked it.”

  “Hell yeah, I do, but damn. I guess
that’s what they mean about cougars being insatiable.” He scooted out of the way of a swipe.

  “I am not a cougar,” she sniffed. “Wait. Am I?”

  “I think if you have to ask if you’re a cougar, you probably aren’t one.” Tig leaned over and gave her a kiss on the nose.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and harrumphed at him. “What are you going to do about that?”

  “Probably take matters into my own hands,” Tig said with a straight face and a tug on his cock.

  Charlotte pulled his hand away as she leaned over and scattered small kisses all over his flat stomach and down the small trail of fuzz that led to the area of his discomfort. Tig’s eyes rolled back in his head and he blew out a breath, enjoying the feel of Charlotte’s heavy, silky hair cascading over his torso and her hot, wet mouth on his cock.

  “My Lord, you’re good at this,” he murmured. “I like it. A lot.”

  Charlotte’s hand snaked up to tweak at his nipple, and Tig pulled her off him and caught her mouth with his. He groaned into Charlotte’s mouth while he spent, and when it was all through, he collapsed back on the bed, rubbery limbed and completely relaxed.

  “Thank you,” he said with a laugh.

  “Well, you didn’t let me finish what I started.”

  Tig opened one eye to see Charlotte pouting at him. “You really wanted me to . . . ?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “It would have been fine. Good even. I might kind of want to. . . .”

  Tig grinned. “Next round, babe.” He looked at himself. “I think we both need a shower.”

  “Nope, we need a bath. I don’t think I can stand up long enough for a shower,” she giggled. “Come on, Tiggy.”

  She leaned over and kissed him, and then pulled him out of the bed for the first time in twelve hours.

  She bent over the tub, checking on the water, and she heard a strangled gasp behind her. Tig had cocked his head sideways, looking at her.

  “See something you like, mister?” Charlotte wiggled her hips and stifled a snort when Tig’s cock twitched.

  “Oh, yeah, I do,” he said, walking up to her. “Maybe I don’t need as much recovery time as I thought I did.”

  Charlotte sank to her knees on the bathmat and kissed the head of his cock. She stroked his hip and the tattoos that snaked up his thighs to wrap around them.

  She frowned. “Tig, what’s . . . ? Is this a scar?”

  Tig licked his lips. “Yeah. Um, when I was in middle school, a horse threw me and then stomped on me good. They don’t know if I broke my pelvis from the fall or from the horse stomping on me—or a combination of the two—but long story short, I had to have some surgery after, and there’s a lot of scar tissue.”

  Charlotte touched the scars and then pressed her lips very softly against them.

  “You mother told me that you couldn’t give me babies. . . .”

  He huffed a laugh. “I figured she might have, thinking that if you wanted children, then you wouldn’t be interested.” He stroked her head, playing with a dark lock of hair.

  “I . . . I’m not sure I want children,” Charlotte said carefully, looking up at Tig and studying his reaction. “Do you?”

  Tig blew out a breath. “I’ve been told for so long that I won’t be able to produce enough swimmers to get a girl pregnant that I’ve just accepted that I’m not going to have them.”

  Charlotte leaned her head against his hip. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”

  Tig shrugged and then huffed another laugh. “Well, that was a boner-ending conversation.” He pointed as his now semisoft cock. “That’s kind of a bummer.”

  Charlotte pressed her lips against his balls and the soft, sensitive space behind them. Tig let out a needful groan and gently pushed her head against his cock. She drew the head of his cock into her mouth and sucked hard while she moved her hands to his ass, wrapping her fingers around the spheres.

  Charlotte’s eyes remained opened, glued to his as she sucked him. She watched his mouth slacken and his eyes roll shut as he lost himself in the pleasure that she gave him.

  “Charlotte . . .”

  She continued to suck and lick him, and when he said her name a third time, he spilled into her mouth, and she took everything she could. When he finished, he leaned against the bathroom cabinet.

  He chuckled. “Now whose legs aren’t going to be strong enough to stand for a shower?”

  “Well then, sit down while I run another bath because the water’s cold now.”

  He did, and Charlotte drained the tub and began to refill it. While they waited, she kissed Tig again and gave silent thanks that he was back in her life.

  Charlotte gripped her wrought iron headboard with both hands, the side of her face smashed into the pillow and her ass in the air.

  “God, put it in me, Tig.”

  Tig knelt behind her, gazing at her exposed beauty. He ran his finger down between her cheeks to the tip of that bundle of sensitive nerves at the front of her softness. She shuddered and gasped.

  “Tig . . .”

  Tig put the tip of his tongue on her slit and rolled her nub gently between his thumb and index finger. Charlotte groaned and arched her back, and Tig took one long, luxuriating lap before thrusting his tongue into her core.

  “Oh God, Tiggy . . .”

  He nipped the inside of her thigh and moved back to put a condom on.

  “Tig?”

  “You ready for me, baby?”

  “Do I look like I’m ready?” Tig looked at Charlotte’s pretty face, lips red from his earlier kisses, skin pink from rubbing his stubble, her eyes wild with lust.

  “Oh, yeah, it looks like you’re ready.”

  He rose to his knees and slammed into her, filling her completely and burying himself to his root inside her.

  “Oh, man, fuck,” Tig groaned.

  Charlotte pushed back and clenched around him.

  “Holy shit, babe. God, you feel good.”

  Tig pumped into Charlotte, his hands roaming over her shoulders and back and down to her hips. He shifted a bit, rooting even deeper inside her, and then he snaked a hand between her thighs and began rolling her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger.

  He bent over her back, balancing himself with one hand flat against the wall as pumped into her. The only things Charlotte could hear were Tig’s grunts and his balls slapping against her.

  He breathed in her ear. “Baby, I wanna bring you over.”

  Charlotte answered him by turning her face toward him and catching him with an openmouthed kiss. “Yes . . .”

  Tig pressed his chest into her back, pulling her closer to him. He pinched one nipple in his fingers and did the same to her nub with the other hand. “Oh, Charlotte, sweetheart . . .”

  Charlotte pressed back into him, and he pressed into her, and they both rose together.

  “Oh, Tig, I . . .”

  Tig covered her mouth with a desperate kiss and swallowed her scream with his groan. They spiraled down, down, down, Tig slowing his thrusts as their mutual climax ended. Then he finally lay still across Charlotte’s back, one breast clutched in his hand and the other between her legs, petting her soft curls.

  “Holy crap, Charlotte,” Tig said with a deep chuckle. “Wow.”

  He kissed the back of her neck. “You okay, baby?”

  Charlotte reached behind her and squeezed Tig’s ass. “Oh, yeah. Never been better.” She turned around to look at him. “I’m great.”

  Tig kissed her again. “Lemme get rid of this, and we’ll cuddle some more, okay?”

  Another smooch. “Yeah, okay, but I’d rather get a bite to eat.”

  She yelped when Tig bit the plump globe of her ass and grabbed her around the waist so he could roll her onto her back.

  “I like it when you throw me around,” she said.

  “Good, because I kind of like throwing you around, especially when you giggle and squeal. It makes me horny.”

  Charlotte scoffed and made a face. “I don�
��t think you need anything to make you horny, Mr. Mashburn.”

  “Oh, man, right there? You calling me ‘Mr. Mashburn’? See?” He pointed to his rapidly growing erection. “Totally making me horny.”

  “Man cannot live on pussy alone.”

  Tig laughed and flopped back in the bed. “You are gonna kill me, girl. First calling me Mr. Mashburn and then saying ‘pussy’? Sweet Jesus. You don’t want to be able to walk come Monday, do you?”

  “Oh, I hope I come many times before Monday. . . .”

  “Oh my Lord.” Tig sat up and popped Charlotte’s bare ass with the palm of his callused hand. “But, now you got me thinking about food. Since Paddy gave me the go-ahead to cheat on the hanky-panky side, I’m gonna go with the cheating on the food side just a bit, too. I am gonna enjoy everything I love this weekend.”

  Charlotte blinked. Everything he . . . loved? But he sat there, grinning like an idiot, seemingly unaware of what he said, so she decided to do the same.

  “So let’s go. What do you want? Wait. Do you want me to cook?” Charlotte said, recoiling with horror.

  Tig shook his head and laughed. “Oh, honey. Let’s not waste our time with that foolishness right now; we’ve got plenty of time to get you whipped into shape. No, I’m thinking something . . . fried and awesome.”

  “Chicken and waffles?”

  “Oh yeah, chicken and waffles.”

  *****

  “Oh Lord, why did you let me eat that third helping?” Tig moaned as they pulled into the detached garage.

  “Would you have stopped if I told you to?”

  “No,” he answered honestly and laughed. “God, I’m full, though. Oof.”

  He and Charlotte walked hand in hand back to the house. Charlotte laid her head on his shoulder and exhaled. “It’s such a nice evening. Why don’t I fix us some tea, and we can sit out here for a while?”

  “Sounds good.” After a small smooch, Charlotte almost skipped into the kitchen.

  Tig was sitting on the glider, long legs stretched out in front of him, when Charlotte came out with the tea.

  “Hey, Miss Thang. You’re looking fine.”

  Charlotte grinned. “You just want to get in my pants again.”