Under The Cover Of Love

by Carolyn Faulkner

  "I'm not sick."

  "No," he countered patiently, just the slightest touch of chiding entering his tone that had her wanting to shift in her seat. She remembered all too well some of the things she'd heard him say when he thought she was Simone. "But you're exhausted from caring for me twenty-four-seven. You should stretch out and relax in your own bed. I promise you that I'm as helpless as a baby, and you have absolutely nothing to fear from me."

  Her out and out guffaw had him laughing. "Why do I severely doubt that you could ever be helpless as a baby? Why do I have the feeling, instead, that you probably know about a hundred and forty-seven ways to kill me without ever even touching me?"

  "Ahem. I'll have you know that's a hundred and forty-eight," he teased. Then his smile disappeared. "I'm serious. You look like you're about to drop, and since you're taking care of the both of us at the moment, that's probably not a good thing. You have my word – although I doubt you put much stock in it – that I will behave."

  Jenna wasn't just off the turnip truck and gave him an assessing glance, surprised that she was even considering doing what he was suggesting, but her body was only too happy to do exactly as he asked. "Behave for you, or behave for normal people?"

  He actually threw back his head and laughed. "Smart girl. Behave for me and in general. Behave like someone who is not trying to kill you and who won't try to in the future."

  She stood, straightening her baggy t-shirt nervously down over her equally baggy jeans. "Is there anything I can get you while I'm up?" she asked.

  "Quit stalling, young lady, and come sit down before you fall down. I promised I wouldn't try to kill you; I very carefully did not promise that I wouldn't pick you up and put you where I think you need to be."

  He tucked his chin down, close to his chest, and he was looking at her from beneath drawn brows that were a threat unto themselves.

  She deliberately didn't just crawl over him – for fear of hurting him, yes, but more because she didn't want to have that close, physical contact with him.

  Okay, she didn't want to want it, and she didn't want to put herself at that kind of disadvantage with him, cop or not.

  The jury was definitely still out on that one.

  Every step of the way to the other side of the bed, she wondered what the fuck she was letting her lady bits talk her into, knowing it couldn't be good.

  "Wait a minute. Get off," he ordered.

  "What? I just got here!"

  "I know, but do as I say. Come around to where I am right now. You're on my injured side."

  "What difference does that make?" she grumbled, but did as he asked anyway, assuming the same position she'd been in before, as far away from him as she could get, clinging to the side of the bed like a rock climber clings to the side of a mountain. "And why are we doing this, if it hurts you to do it?"

  "Because of this, smarty pants," he scolded lightly, reaching out to corral her against him, not taking no for an answer.

  "This is behaving?"

  He just grinned. "It is for me, believe me," Merck said with a shit eating grin as he settled her even more closely to him, unpausing the second season DVD of The Wire as he did so.

  After a few short minutes of her lying stiffly next to him, he stage whispered, his eyes still on the screen, "You could put your head on my shoulder if you'll still respect me in the morning."

  Jenna huffed at him but didn't do as he had suggested, and he didn't insist.

  It felt too wonderful in his arms, and she didn't want him to push her away. But, long minutes in, she did finally relax against him, if in slow increments.

  Eventually, he paused the disc.

  "I really meant it when I said thank you for taking care of me."

  She was back to stiff again, but he couldn't regret what he was saying.

  "It was a very brave thing you did and very intuitive not to have turned me in to one side or the other. You'd make a good cop. You read people well, and that's one of the major skills you need."

  Her thank you was subdued at best.

  "I have no doubt that you saved my life, Jenna, and no amount of thank-yous is going to cover it. But I have to say this, because the danger is far from over: if the shit hits the fan and either side ends up here, and it doesn't look good, which is a distinct possibility, then I need you to follow my orders to the t – no questions, no looks, no nothing. Just do it. You can yell at me later. It could well be the difference between one or the other of us or both living or dying, and I am serious as fuck."

  "All right, all right," Jenna agreed ungraciously.

  He tilted her chin up so that their eyes met. "And if we should live through said shit storm, and you disobeyed me in any way, you can expect that what you got before I passed out is going to look like a warm, inviting hug in comparison."

  As he spoke, he began to lean towards her, until their lips met in a kiss that started out sweet as hell but ended with him pulling her, one-armed, up onto his big body as he tried to sit up and kiss her at the same time, but his injuries wouldn't let him.

  "Damn, these wounds are cramping my style," he panted, and she tried to shift off him at the pained look on his face.

  But he merely contracted that arm, saying, "Whoa there. You're not going anywhere. I haven't had nearly my fill of you yet."

  Something about the man made everything inside her melt – including her brain. She knew she shouldn't have been kissing him, pressing her body against his, feeling the dew gathering between her legs as she did so.

  But she couldn't stop herself any more than she could stop him.

  Those big hands – his left one a bit less enthusiastically – roamed over her at will, touching eagerly but gently, as if he worried about hurting her now in a way he hadn't before, fingers caught in her hair, others skimming over her back and down to rub over her bottom.

  "You've recovered from your spanking?" he asked against her mouth.

  "Yes," she answered, a bit shyly, charming him with her hesitancy.

  "Did you like it?"

  She rose up on his chest. "Hell no, I didn't!" she practically yelled indignantly.

  But he just lay there beneath her, giving her a doubtful look, one expressive eyebrow up.

  "I did not!" she repeated, a little less vehemently.

  The other eyebrow joined its partner. "Don't lie to me, Jenna, or you'll get the same thing again, only worse."

  "I –"

  She didn't think she'd blushed that hard since she was a virgin. Damn her telltale fair skin!

  "That's what I thought." He bent his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Even half dead, I loved spanking you. I love your spunk, but I'll love taming it to my hand even more."

  "Do you love spanking Simone, too?" she asked pointedly.

  Merck moved a little away to get a better look at her. "What?"

  "I asked if you enjoy spanking Simone, too, although I think I already know the answer."

  His eyes narrowed, and she felt a chill run up her spine at that look. "And what exactly do you mean by that, Jenna?"

  Jenna wasn't going to back down. She didn't want to encroach on someone else's territory. "It means that, in your delirium, you talked about – talked to – Simone a lot. You spoke to me as if you thought I was she. At one point, you were up and about, and you treated me a bit like her, too."

  That shiver-inspiring look melted into decidedly bedroom eyes. "And what did I say – and do – to the two of you?"

  Jenna hadn't expected him to ask that. "Uh...you told her that you only spanked her because you loved her."

  He nodded his head slowly. "And?"

  Swallowing hard, she tried to look away from him, but he brought her head right back so that she had to look at him. "Y-you…"

  "Go on, little miss. What else did I say?"

  "You reached down and cupped my cheek, asking if she was still sore from that morning and telling her that she should have known not to have done something she knew she oughtn't. You tol
d her to assume the position and not to move or she'd regret it. You told her..." Jenna didn't think she could blush any harder without passing out. "That you loved..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "How she tasted when she came on your mouth."

  Merck didn't respond immediately. He wasn't necessarily sure what he should do. Oh, he knew what he wanted to do, but he was trying his best to put her first. He could hardly do something to her that he didn't think would be good for her, considering he owed her his life.

  Yet, here she was, having done so rather than kicking his burdensome ass to the curb, or turning him over to the authorities...or others that she certainly could have. Then there was that revealing blush...

  He wished he remembered more about the spanking he'd given her before he collapsed, but he was too sick to remember much beyond the fact that he had done it to her. And spankings were normally something he always remembered – or did his damndest to, anyway – every single second he could, down to the most minute detail – how hard did she cry, what was the temperature of the room – was the sheet below her head stained with tears – did she beg for him to stop or was she stoic?

  He was heartily sorry that he didn't have those memories about the first spanking he'd given her.

  But that was far from the only thing he could do for her, if she'd let him.

  She hadn't mentioned how long it had been since her ex had left, but he had a good idea that it was a reasonable length of time. He didn't get the sense that she felt anything for him – beyond loathing – or that there was anyone else in her life.

  There certainly wasn't anyone in his.

  Merck did remember, though, that when he'd asked her whether her former husband had hurt her, she hadn't answered him. That was something he tucked away in his mind for future examination.

  Right now, he just wanted to make her feel good, if she would let him. He was certainly going to try his damndest to get her to. He owed her at least that. Hell, he owed her a shit-ton more than that, but his bag of tricks was rather small now, and this was something he knew he could do for her, and that, for his own selfish reasons, he desperately wanted to do.

  Chapter 5

  First, though, he wanted to deal with Simone. "Simone was a woman I was involved with years ago, but we went our separate ways because she wanted more than I could give her. I was – still am – involved with my job, and that takes me away from whoever I'm in a relationship with. And they never know when – or if – I'm going to come home – when I step out the door. It – it was more than she wanted to deal with, and I can absolutely understand that. I've stayed away from emotional entanglements since we broke up." He gave her an assessing look. "Am I right that you're not involved with anyone?"

  She shook her head. "I'm not."

  "Not since your ex?" he probed a bit further, not really knowing why – or wanting to.

  Jenna looked embarrassed, although he had no idea why she would be. "Yeah." She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something and then backed off.

  "What is it?"

  "But –" Jenna bit her lip hesitantly.

  "But what, honey?"

  Damn his sexy-assed voice!

  "You spanked her?" She asked without looking at him, but he didn't allow her to get away with it for long, bringing her gaze back to him as he answered.

  'Yes, I did. It was something we both got a lot out of, and it was a big part of our relationship – in and out of bed – when I was home." He tilted his head a bit. "Does that idea intrigue you?"

  Jenna licked her lips, not really knowing what to say. It was a part of herself she had never revealed to anyone, and, intellectually, she didn't think that it was a good idea to start with him.

  But then, it might well be, because it was obviously something he was into.

  "Don't think about it – just answer me. Did my spanking you get you wet?"

  She couldn't answer him verbally, but nodded her head a bit.

  Seconds later, she found herself beneath him.

  But not without him wincing.

  Jenna began to push on his chest. "No, I won't do this, if it's going to hurt you," she swore vehemently.

  Catching her hands and stretching them above her head, he rumbled, "Do I need to tie you up the way I'd intended to originally?"

  Her loudly caught breath was all he needed to hear.

  Jenna had never realized that bandage material was so strong, but she found that out personally when he lashed her wrists to the bed. Cognizant of the fact that this might not be comfortable for her, he left them loose enough that, if she wanted to bother, she could work her way out.

  His chin rested between her breasts as he spoke with utter softness. "I want you to relax and enjoy what I'm going to do to you. You've been working hard over the past few days, doing everything for me. Let me do a little something for you for a change, hmm?" He gave her a warm, gentle smile as her clothing began to disappear from her body – she knew not how – nor did she much care.

  All she wanted was for him to continue to touch her. He seemed to know exactly how and where she was the most helplessly responsive, from her eager lips to the tips of her breasts, the small of her back and the inside of her ankles. Nowhere was safe from his intimate kisses.

  Least of all, that particular area. When he had suckled at her toes, biting teasingly at her instep, he nibbled his way up the tender insides of her legs, the presence of his big body forcing her to open intimately to him.

  But just when she thought he was going to ravish her, he lay there for the longest time, just looking at her – there.

  Her body was literally weeping for him. It was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen, and he didn't want to forget it or rush it, despite how his erection was drilling into the mattress. "You are very beautiful, Jenna, everywhere, but especially here," he said huskily, and she could feel his hot breath on her most intimate parts.

  Not used to compliments – especially since her ex found nothing but fault with her physically and otherwise – she chuckled a bit in embarrassment, which earned her a stern glance from him.

  "Are you questioning my tastes, little one?" he asked, his tone suggesting that might not be the most intelligent of ideas.

  "I'm not little, Merck."

  It was the first time she'd said his name, and the next time she did, he wanted her to be screaming it as she climaxed at his behest.

  With his good hand, he flipped her effortlessly over onto her stomach, watching her stiffen in anticipation of a spanking.

  And she wasn't wrong.

  He began swatting her almost lazily, and with much less rigor than her first experience, warming her rear rather than searing it. "You are beautiful, Jenna, and it's too bad that you can't see that in yourself. You need a man who is going to tell you that, honestly and frequently, and who's going to thrash your bottom every time you try to tell him he's wrong."

  "No!"

  "Yes. You know I'm right. That's exactly what you need."

  Three sharp, but not unbearable, swats fell in a row, and she could feel them almost as if he was spanking the front of her, instead!

  "And you are little to me, so I don't expect you to correct me about that, either. Do you understand me?" he asked, firmly, but not angrily.

  "Yes."

  "Good."

  His good hand wiggled and worked its way beneath her, then slowly began to claim the part of her that most wanted his attentions, two strong fingers opening lips that released a flow of honey over them, more generous than he'd ever experienced before.

  Merck gasped. "Honey, you are so plump and ripe and wet right now, I am going to let your juices run down my chin and I'm going to lap up every drop of you before I let you go. You, my dear, most definitely need a firm hand on your rudder, and I am only too happy to provide such a service."

  He lay atop her, and she sunk down into the old, soft mattress. But she couldn't escape that hand or those fingers, not that she really wanted to. His presence on t
op of her only heightened her desire. He played with her as if he knew that was what she had wanted all along, to feel a strong, male presence on her. Very shortly, in her, his digits lodged firmly within her, opening her to him and for him, drilling up into her and curling the tips of both to massage that particular spot that left her breathless.

  Jenna heard him chuckle at her softly as he withdrew his sopping wet fingers to bring them, instead, to the little crowning jewel of her lady parts. Only he wasn't nearly as gentle and slow here, but rather quick and confident, manipulating it – adding his thumb to the mix to pinch that little bundle, tweaking it, tapping it, rubbing some in between, bringing her to a fever pitch and keeping her there by the sheer unpredictability of his motions.

  When she got too close, he smacked with his other hand. He did it in such a manner that she was sure he thought of it as much less harsh than it should have been, because of his injury. It still had her yelping and trying to twitch her bottom away from its descent, not that she was able to – he had her by much more than the short hairs.

  Eventually, when her bottom was a nice, even, glowing pink, and having proved to the both of them that she definitely did enjoy being spanked, he turned her over again, resuming his position between her legs, only this time he did more than just look.

  He adjusted himself – and she ached with every painful grunt until he'd gotten himself where he wanted to be, so much so that he looked up and reassured her, "I'm fine, Jenna. Really, if I thought this was going to set me back in the least, I would not be doing it. But to the contrary, your little cunny is exactly what I need."

  With that, he lowered his head, arranging her legs over his shoulders, spreading them even wider in the process. Then, after contemplating her for long enough to make Jenna raise her head to look at him, capturing the exact moment when his mouth claimed her privates and the dual sensual inputs were almost enough to make her cum right then and there.