Easy Sacrifice

by Brooks,Anna

  “Bed,” I manage to get out.

  She nods down the hall, and I open the first door, not giving a shit if it’s her room or not. All I need is a place to get her horizontal. As soon as the door shuts, she pushes me against it and drops to her knees. Her hands greedily rip open my jeans, shove them down, and she palms my dick.

  An involuntary hiss passes through my lips when she strokes me, her fingertips not able to close to a full fist. I’ve gone far too long with only my hand and haven’t been this desperate since I was a thirteen-year-old kid having sex for the first time.

  Her mouth surrounds me, and my head slams against the door. Fuck, I didn’t think this would happen. Didn’t think she’d be this willing. This needy. Almost as bad as I am.

  Her dainty fingers graze my balls, and the short tips of her nails scratch the sensitive skin. My balls tighten up embarrassingly fast, and I push her away before I come down her throat. No matter how long it’s been, I’m not gonna go that quick.

  She almost trips, but I grab her and kick my pants and boxers all the way off, then I back her up until her knees hit the bed. I avoid looking into her eyes, afraid that what I’m feeling is too damn much, as I take her shirt off and palm her tits outside her black bra.

  A moan passes between her lips, and I sway down so I can suck on the pointy tips. Through the thin layer of cotton, I flick over her hardened nipple, and she falls back all the way on the bed.

  Reaching behind my head, I take off my shirt, and before it even falls to the floor, my hands are on the waistband of her pants, tugging them off.

  My calloused fingers wrap around her calves. I spread her open and dive in like the starved man I am. Her hands grasp at my head, and she grinds herself against my mouth. Her sweet, rich flavor slides easily down my throat as I fuck her with my tongue.

  Just as she begins to tense up, I lift her up and lie down on my back. I pull her up the bed so her pussy’s hovering above me. “Fuck my face, Jessa.”

  “What?” Her panting breath comes out stuttered. I reach up and grab her hips then slam her down on my face, spearing her with my hungry tongue. “Holy shit.” She lifts up a tad, lowers herself on my tongue, and I squeeze the globes of her ass, dying to get my cock inside her tight, hot, wet heat.

  She begins to rock against me, and I use everything I have—my nose, my chin, and my teeth—to bring her to orgasm. Of course, I want it to be mind-blowing for her, but selfishly, I need to get inside her almost more than I need oxygen.

  My tongue flicks against her clit as I reach around and slide my middle finger straight up her core, and she screams. “Ty!” She clenches around my now wet digit, and I let her ride out the rest of her orgasm as her body quakes, and my cock leaks so much pre-cum, I can feel it pooling on my stomach.

  Flipping her over, I rub the moist tip of my cock against between her swollen folds and tap it against her throbbing clit. “You on something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” I slide into her all the way and have to pull out completely so I don’t lose my load immediately. “Fuck, you feel good.”

  Her pussy sucks me in again, and I fall forward onto my forearms, still watching where we’re connected, but purposely looking away from her angelic face. Knowing this is it, makes me want to both drag it out as long as I can, and get it over with at the same time. The longer I’m inside her, the more I’m gonna want to do this over and over and over again.

  My hips thrust harder, stronger, and more intensely as she wraps her legs around my waist. The smell of her arousal fills the room, and I growl as my release unexpectedly pours into her the second her walls tighten around me. She gasps and stills, digging her nails into me while her thighs shake. I hold myself flush with her, dizzy from the best I’ve ever had. The sweetest. The tightest.

  I roll off her and toss an arm over my eyes. Fuck, what was I thinking? She rolls over and drapes an arm and a leg across me. I don’t touch her. I can’t. Even though my fingers burn with the desire to caress her back or run my fingers through her hair.

  The more I touch her or stay with her, the more I’m going to want her. Her breath on me becomes more shallow and her weight heavier. I slide out from under her and grab my clothes. When I open her door, the dogs wag their tails and thump them on the ground. I tiptoe around them, covering my junk, then get dressed and leave.

  * * *

  It’s nearly one in the morning by the time I get to my location, and when I realize I’m not the only one who’s early, I grab my Glock from my glove box and hop out of my truck. No sense in delaying the inevitable.

  “Marco.” I nod and walk past him into the warehouse.

  His loafers click on the ground behind me, and when I reach the table, he steps around it and lifts the lid. “It’s all here.”

  I grab a tightly packed baggie and test its weight in my hand. Without a further word to him, I close the briefcase. Grabbing it by the handle, I turn and walk out. He follows me out, and right before I get in my truck, he calls my name.

  When I turn to face him, it takes every single fiber of my being not to kill him. To give him the same fate he gave my mother. A slow painful death. She may have been the one to take the drugs, but he was the one who laced them. I can’t, though. Not yet. I’ve only been out for a week; I need more time.

  I raise a brow at him and wait for him to speak.

  “What’s with the silent treatment, my man?”

  He’s such a smug bastard. I fucking loathe him.

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  My ass hits my seat, and I manually roll down the window. “You’ll have your profit in three days.”

  “Get it to me in two and you can have an extra five percent.”

  “Three days, original deal. I don’t want any fuckin’ favors from you.”

  I throw the old beast in gear and pull out of the dark parking lot. Heading home to my empty, unfurnished apartment, I find a bag full of cash waiting for me. They’ve already delivered. Now, I just need to offload.

  Chapter 8

  Jessa

  Two weeks. Two freaking weeks since he humped and dumped me. How dare he?

  I’ve carried an insurmountable amount of guilt and baggage around with me since the night Ty was arrested.. To know I was responsible for the death of a man … no matter how bad he was. Did he have children, a wife? Were his parents still alive and crying at his grave because he was taken too soon?

  And Ty. God, the weight on my heart for him going to jail for a crime that I committed is so heavy some days I can barely breathe. Even though he didn’t really give me a choice, did I make the right one? I always wondered if I did the right thing by letting him take the blame, but looking back, I know I did.

  After Ty had been arrested that night, I was beside myself. I killed a man. I shot him, and he died right in front of me. I was able to go to the jail a couple of days later to talk to Ty; I wanted to see him. I tracked him down, and when he rounded the corner in an orange jumpsuit and shackles, I lost it. My head fell onto the clear glass barrier separating us.

  I’ll never forget him picking up the phone and the angry words he spoke to me when I got the strength to lift the receiver.

  “Get the fuck outta here. I don’t know you, I never knew you, and I don’t wanna see you again. You hear me?”

  My mouth dropped open, but I managed to nod.

  “Listen to me very closely. I don’t know you. You hear me?”

  “But—”

  He leaned forward, and for a brief second, his sharp features softened, and he mouthed, Jessa, please. Instantaneously, he growled into the receiver, “You hear me?”

  I couldn’t speak, so I nodded and wiped my tears, dropped the phone, and walked out.

  That was almost six years ago. Of course, I followed the trial as best as I could. When I went to see him after his conviction, I was told my name was blocked from his visitor’s list, so I left and never went back.

  Then he shows up outsid
e the bar, takes me home, we have the best sex I’ve ever had, and then he disappears. Well, fuck him. Fuck him for fuckin’ with my feelings ever since I was seventeen years old. I’ve been hung up on him for twelve years. It’s time to move on.

  “Sure, Neil. Friday sounds great.” I answer the police officer whose service dog I just vaccinated.

  “Want me to pick you up?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Here”—I grab one of my business cards and scribble my address and cell on the back—“I work until five, so is seven okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll see you then.”

  I smile in answer and exit the exam room, banging my head against the wall.

  What am I doing?

  Going out with a guy as retaliation against Ty.

  To prove what?

  That I don’t want Ty as much as I do.

  Whatever. He obviously just needed to get laid after he was released from prison, and I was a willing participant. I can’t continue to hold on to a man who disappears out of my life in the blink of an eye. I’m not getting any younger, and I’d like to have a family one day. I’d like to have a man who wants to be seen with me instead of one who’s always running away from me.

  I sigh, looking at the computer to check my schedule, and then wash my hands before heading to my next appointment. I’ll just do what I’ve done for the past six years—stay busy to forget.

  * * *

  The knock on my door makes all of my dogs bark, and I try to shush them as I open it for Neil. “Hey, sorry. They like to talk. A lot.”

  “I love dogs, hence the whole K9 unit.” He smiles and steps inside, handing me a small bouquet of flowers.

  “Thank you, these are beautiful.”

  I shut the door behind him, and he leans down to pet my dogs. “I like your place.”

  “Thanks. I’ve had it for a little over a year now. It was hard to find something on this side of town with a yard.” I walk to the kitchen. Opening a cabinet, I reach for a vase but am unable to grab it.

  “I’ll grab it,” Neil says from directly behind me. His breath brushes the hair on the top of my head.

  “Thanks.”

  I step away, and he easily grabs the purple vase and hands it to me. After filling it and placing the colorful assortment in the water, we head out to his SUV. He opens my door and helps me up, and then he rounds the hood and slides in his side.

  “I thought we could try the new seafood place, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure, sounds great.” I look out the window as the town passes us by, and the further I get from my house, the more my gut sinks. Not that I’m scared; it’s just that I don’t want this. I don’t want this guy. I want one who doesn’t want me back, and it sucks.

  “So, are you from here?”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat and turn to look at him. He’s handsome. Strong jawline. Bright blue eyes and light brown hair. Plus, he’s a cop. “Born and raised. What about you?”

  “I lived up north but applied for and got the job here four years ago.”

  “Oh, cool.”

  His hand slides over mine and gives it a squeeze. “I’m glad you agreed to do this. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

  Instead of answering, I smile and try to hold my hand still, when I really just want to yank it away. He rubs his thumb along the top of my hand the entire way to the restaurant, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he finally removes it to park.

  This is what Ty does to me. He makes me a mess around other men. It’s so difficult being intimate with anyone. Any boyfriend I had, I ended up breaking up with him because he just wasn’t Ty. It’s not fair of me; I realize this, so I’m really trying not to compare Neil to Ty.

  The entire time we’re at dinner, I’m contemplating my life. Here I am with a sweet, nice, handsome man with a good, respectable job. He’s clearly interested in me and has been nothing but polite and charming. Instead, the only man on my mind is a dirty-talking thug.

  Certainly, something is wrong with me. Maybe it’s some twisted version of survivor’s guilt or something. I mean, I did kill a guy, but it was only because he was going to kill Ty. Ty might act as if he belongs on the streets, but I know better. He doesn’t. He’s been my savior more times than I can count. He isn’t bad. He’s good … so, so good.

  After two glasses of wine, I have water. Before I know it, Neil’s paying the bill and wrapping an arm around my waist to lead me outside. Either I did a splendid job of faking it, or he’s sick of me already. The ride back to my place is quiet, with nothing but the sound of the radio playing quietly.

  He doesn’t hold my hand this time, and I silently wonder if I’m giving him a bad vibe. Can he tell I’m not really here with him? Can a man really sense when a woman is thinking about someone else? I don’t really care anymore, though.

  I guess I’ll just be a spinster. I don’t need a man anyway; I have my dogs.

  When we get to my house, he hops out, opens my door, and walks me up the front steps. When I dig my keys out of my purse, I stick it in the deadbolt and turn it but don’t open the door yet.

  “Thank you for dinner. I had a nice time,” I lie. It’s not really him, though. It’s me. As phony as it sounds.

  “Me too.” He steps closer and leans down to press a gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll call you.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell him no. “Okay.”

  He nods at the door, waiting for me to go inside. I smile and open it, twisting the deadbolt after gently closing it.

  “Hey, kiddos!” I rush to the back door to let my dogs use the bathroom, and put their food out while they’re doing their business. When they all run back in, I go to the bathroom and take a shower then tie my robe around my waist.

  Stepping out onto my patio, I let the dogs out one more time, and then lock the sliding door behind me. Once I shut all the lights off, I head upstairs to my room.

  As soon as I step foot over the threshold, a blood-curdling scream rips from my throat.

  “How was your date?” Ty asks.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “How was your date, Jessa?”

  He doesn’t move from his seated position on the edge of my bed, but the timbre of his voice is enough of an indicator to tell me he’s pissed.

  I swallow and avoid his eyes.

  “Look at me,” he barks. My eyes make my way over to him. “How was your fucking date?”

  Now that my nerves have calmed from seeing him, my anger begins to take hold. This is the guy who fucked me and didn’t so much as leave a goodbye note. Well, two can play that game.

  “It was great.”

  His brows snap together, and he stands. Shit.

  “It was, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Drop the robe,” he demands, stalking toward me.

  I move around him and dash to the other side of the room.

  “Don’t play games with me. Drop the fucking robe.”

  The veins in my neck throb, my stomach muscles tighten, and a rush of moisture rolls down my leg. “No.”

  “No?”

  “You left,” I point out, lowering my voice so he understands how pissed I am.

  “Yeah. And now, I’m back. Drop the robe.”

  He lunges forward and catches me, backing me up against the wall. His neck twists and turns as he looks at every centimeter of my face then rubs his thumb across my lips. A growl reverberates from low in his throat, and his mouth crashes against mine.

  I press my lips together in a laughable protest, but he coaxes my mouth open with his tongue. I can’t resist him. It might make me weak, but he makes me feel good, so I don’t really care. His fingers untangle the knot in my robe, and he takes a step back as he opens it and lets it fall from my body. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”

  He steps forward, and at the same time his chest rubs against mine, he cups me between my legs. “He touch this?”

  “No.”<
br />
  “That’s right. Nobody else touches this but me.”

  I should be so mad right now. I should kick him in the nuts. But I don’t. I freaking melt like a puddle of goo for him. All I’ve ever wanted is to be with him. To have him possess me in ways I’ve only dreamed.

  His booted foot roughly kicks my legs farther apart, and then he drops to his knees. I plaster my hands against the wall to give myself some leverage. His tongue trails up from my inner thigh, and I watch as he licks the moisture there.

  When he reaches the apex of my thigh, he sucks hard, causing my hips to arch off the wall. With one hand, he pushes them back and bites the lips of my pussy.

  I cry out, and he chuckles, spreading me open for him. He does nothing but look at my most sensitive area that’s already throbbing. “Your pussy’s hungry tonight.” He stands up and walks over to my reading chair. Before he sits, he takes off his gray sweats. His long, thick, hard cock springs free, and another rush of moisture floods me.

  Once he sits, he points at his lap, and I eagerly rush over to him. Putting a knee on either side of him, I begin to lower myself, but he stops me.

  “This isn’t about you. You’ll fuck me ’til I come deep inside you, then you’re going to get up and take your fine ass to bed.”

  “What?” I gasp. My thighs burn and shake in anticipation.

  “You let another man touch you. Put his lips on you.”

  I begin to crawl off him ’cause fuck him. I might want him, but I won’t let him dick whip me. Who is he to tell me who I can or can’t touch?

  I’m a few inches away. Grabbing me with one hand by my hip, he pushes me down at the same time as he thrusts up and enters me fully.

  “Oh, shit,” I pant.

  “Ride me, but do not come,” he grits.

  “Ty,” I whine, as I slide up.

  “That’s right. Ty. I’m the one you’re fucking. Me, baby. Don’t forget that. Now, ride me.”

  So I do. Like the slut I apparently am, I ride him hard, chasing the orgasm that’s right there. He holds my hips and guides me, and after a couple of minutes, I’m at the peak already. He pulls me flush with him, and I feel the release of his orgasm coat me as his fingers flex into my hips. I try to grind against him, but he doesn’t let me move. Damn it. My back begins to sweat, and tears brim my eyes. Fuck, he’s really not going to let me come.