by Alexa Riley
FALLING IN
TAKING THE FALL
Vol. 4
Alexa Riley
Copyright ©2015 Alexa Riley
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact [email protected]
http://alexariley.com/
Cover design : © L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations
Formatting by L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations
This book is dedicated to my best girl, Jeanette. She's tough as nails, doesn't take shit, but has the biggest heart of anyone I know. Let's never break up... I'd miss the food talk the most.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue
Sneak Peak at Virgin Duet
JEANETTE
“Back up, motherfucker!” I feel like my heart is pounding out of my chest as I point the gun at the door. Not again…never again. I won’t let this happen to me again.
“Jeanette!” a man yells. As soon as I see his face my eyes start to water. The gun in my hand waivers for a second, but I train it back on him.
“I said back up!” I scream, and both men stop instantly. I try to steady the gun, but I feel like I’m seeing double. I must have hit my head harder than I realized.
“Where’s Layla?” the shaved-head one demands. I squeeze the gun tight, trying to get the shaking to stop but it isn’t working. They are both big motherfuckers. I don’t want them to see my fear. Men use your fear against you. You’ve done this before, Jeanette, you can do it again. Them or me. With that thought, I feel the gun steady.
I don’t care if I’m only wearing a sheet. If I look like I’m in control and that I know how to handle a gun, then they’ll stay back.
“Mama, listen to me. It’s me, baby. It’s Saint and Carter. We aren’t going to hurt you. We are here to save you. Put the gun down and come here.”
I shake my head. Do I know them? It doesn’t matter right now.
“Put your guns down. I don’t trust anyone right now.”
The one with shoulder-length hair puts his gun down and kicks it away.
He drops to his knees. I feel like I’ve seen him like this before. I can see unshed tears in his eyes. I’ve never seen a man look like he is about to cry, like he’s ready to kill, but I can tell his anger isn’t towards me.
I wrack my brain for a memory I know I’m missing.
“Come here, Mama. You know how much I love being on my knees in front of you.” At his words, it clicks.
“Can I ask you a personal question? Shot or beer?”
I glance over at the man next to me at the bar. I didn’t even notice him sit down. But the Kat House is always crazy-loud. It’s often hard to even hear yourself think in here, but thinking isn’t why I come. He looks completely out of place, but a free drink is a free drink.
“Sure. Tequila…the good stuff.” He motions for the bartender and orders our shots. I swivel in my chair to get a better look at him. He’s definitely not my type. In fact he’s the type I try to stay away from for good reason, the type that taught me it’s best to stick with the bad boys. The clean-cut boys hide who they really are, and this one is as clean-cut as they come. From his short sandy-blond hair to his blue eyes and three-piece suit, he couldn’t look more boring. He has to be the only person in this place wearing a suit.
His eyes sweep over me and he licks his lips. The thought of his lips on me makes me squirm inside. I’m not sure if it’s him or what he represents that causes the feeling, or the fact that I can’t seem to get Saint out of my head. I came here tonight to find a quick hook-up. It’s been too long. Since I had my sights set on Saint I hadn’t given any other man even a thought. But after his quick dismissal of me I was done with him. I was all dolled up and ready to go, and he just dropped me a quick text ‘Sorry, Mama. I can’t make it tonight’. Not even a ‘Let’s meet up some other time’. The little pet name he used on me, ‘Mama’, was starting to piss me off too. At first I thought it was something he just used on me but given how casually he blew me off I’m probably just on a long list of women he has on rotation. I can’t see a man like Saint having to try very hard to get a woman. In fact I had to go after him at first. Fuck him. I may not hook up with pretty boy here, but I’m sure I can find something around here.
Lays seemed to be enjoying all the attention tonight. She even seemed like she was drunk, which is rare for her. I should try to catch up.
Steve, the regular bartender, drops the two shot glasses down in front of us, making some of the liquor splash out onto the wooden bar top. He eyes the guy who ordered them and shoots me a look. I just shrug. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. What’s pretty boy doing here? I grab my shot, not waiting for him to take it with me, and down it. The less interaction I have with him the faster he’ll leave, and I can find someone else.
“Damn, baby! No limes or nothing? That’s pretty hot. I like a woman who can handle her liquor. Two more!” he shouts over to Steve.
“I’m not your baby,” I tell him, swiveling in my chair so I’m not facing him anymore. I look in the mirror that hangs over the bar to see if Lays is back from her smoke break but I don’t see her. Suddenly Saint catches my eye. He’s staring right at me. When he used to come into the library where Lays and I work I thought he had a thing for her. He was always watching her. But after a while I noticed he only watched her. Dispassionately. Objectively. Whenever his eyes came to me, he always had a different look on his face. A hungry look. He stood out in the library like pretty boy next to me stands out in here. His dark shoulder-length hair makes him look like he just rolled out of bed. With who I’m not sure, and I sure as fuck don’t want to know. The spark of jealousy that zips through me is a shock. I don’t get jealous. I don’t need to. If a guy doesn’t want me, fine, I’m on to the next, not that I let them stay around long enough to be done with me. That’s what’s great about the bad boys. They want the same thing I do.
He cocks his head to the side, making eye contact with me in the mirror and his whole face breaks out in a grin, causing the scar on the side of his face to crinkle. I don’t know what it is about that scar but every time I see it I want to lick it, lick him. I feel pretty boy lean down and whisper in my ear.
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.”
I keep my eyes locked on Saint and watch the smile drop from his face. The click of the new shots being dropped down in front of me makes me snap my eyes away from him. I reach for the shot knowing I’m going to need it if I have to share the bar with Saint tonight. If I see him hit on another woman I might lose it. All this dancing around each other for weeks is getting old and I’m over it. At least that’s what I tell myself. Before I can grab the shot Saint is picking it up from over my shoulder and shooting it back. I forget how tall he is sometimes. I’m not short by any means. I’m about five eight, and in heels I always reach six foot. Still Saint towers over me, but never once have I felt intimidated around him. In fact, pretty boy scares me more than him.
“What the fuck?” the suit barks at Saint. Saint just gives him a look tha
t could probably kill, and the man lifts his hands and backs away. Placing a hand on each side of the bar, he cages me in. I look back up into the mirror so I can see his face. My back leans into his chest as if it has a mind of its own. Like it belongs there.
“Mama,” he whispers into my ear, and it makes me clench my jaw. I’m sure he notices. He seems to notice everything.
“I wasn’t done with him yet and you owe me a shot,” I say, smirking at him in the mirror.
“One, I want you sober for what I have planned for you, and two, you don’t need him. You have me,” he whispers in my ear before taking my lobe into his mouth.
“Maybe I don’t want you anymore,” I moan, pissed at myself for letting it come out like that.
“Not a man in the place that’ll do what I’m willing to do for you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Mama”
“And what would you do for me?”
“Any fucking thing you asked.”
Spinning in my chair to face him, I stand up, making him take a step back. “That so…Daddy?” Hey, if he’s going to call me Mama, two can play this game. He looks down at me, taking in what I have on: a short dress that shows off my legs in all their glory. I may not have curves like a lot of girls but I have killer legs. I see him visibly swallow.
I love that I affect him like this.
“I don’t know what to make of you, Saint. One second you say the most perfect things and the next...well, I just don’t know,” I tell him. It’s true. Sometimes he looks at me and I know that he wants me. Then other times he can get that deadly look in his face.
“Mama, you let me have you and I’ll be a docile fucking kitten that will eat out of your hand.”
I can’t help but smile at his words. I wonder if they’re true. Would Saint let me have my way with him? I can’t see a man like him letting me tie him to the bed or dropping to his knees. I don’t always like to be in control but sometimes it can be fun. A lot of men won’t give up that control.
“You’ll do anything I ask?” I question, wanting him to take the bait. If it’s a challenge it won’t make me feel so bad about my going back on my whole ‘I’m done with him’ convictions. Plus I want to prove him wrong. Men won’t do anything for you. They only do what gets them theirs. I learned that lesson a long time ago.
“If I said it got me off to shove my dildo up your ass, would you let me?”
“I have to say, Mama, that doesn’t sound too great but if you do it naked I think I can handle it…if it gets you off that is.”
It didn’t, but the idea that he would let me because I wanted to did.
Reaching up, I grab a handful of his hair and pull him down to kiss me. I might have initiated the kiss but Saint takes it over. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, not waiting for an invitation. This kiss is wet, uncontrolled and almost sloppy. It’s like he can’t get enough of my mouth. Next thing I know my legs are around him, and he is moving through the bar. I can hear the catcalls and hoots and hollers of the people around us, but I don’t care and Saint doesn’t seem to either. He keeps going at my mouth like a starving man. I feel his cock jerk against my panties, and then I feel a wetness. Oh, my God.
I break my mouth away from him “Did you just come?” I ask, all breathy as I try to suck air into my lungs.
“How could I not?” he replies as if it’s a crazy question and recaptures my mouth. Holy fuck. I close my eyes to shut everything else out and grind against his cock. He might have just come, but he is still rock hard, and I’m so very close to getting there myself.
I hear a click and open my eyes to see that we’re in the women’s bathroom. Saint locks the stall door.
“I hate to do this here, Mama, but I have to taste you,” he growls, before dropping to his knees in front of me. “I’m pissed I got to come before you. I promise I have better manners than that.”
He slides his hands up my dress and with one hard yank rips my panties off.
“Show me,” I challenge him. Reaching down, I pull at my dress until the material bunches at my hips.
“Now you show me,” I say, happy with the fact that my voice doesn’t crack. I’m confident when it comes to sex, but something about Saint shakes me.
Unbuckling his belt, Saint pulls his pants down a little and his cock springs free. I hear myself gasp. Not at the size—not that he isn’t large—but at the cock piercing he has.
I pull down the top of my dress so that my breasts fall free and expose my nipple piercings.
“Fuck me,” Saint growls. He wraps my destroyed panties around his cock and starts stroking himself with them.
“Not yet. But if you’re a good boy and eat my pussy, I might let you fuck me.” Before I can even finish my sentence, Saint has me in his mouth. I cum instantly, my whole body jerking, but Saint doesn’t stop.
His tongue plunges into me over and over, sweeping over my clit. Saint isn’t a tease. He wants to give me pleasure and he wants to give it to me now. When his teeth latch on to my clit, another orgasm hits me, harder than the first one. A moan is ripped from my throat and I’m shocked to hear it coming from me.
“You’re mine. From the moment I saw you I knew it. I wanted to wait but I can’t anymore. I need you. You’ll never have another man as long as I’m breathing,” he swears, but before I can respond he is back on me. I’ve never in my life known a man who would give pleasure like this. Sure, men liked to eat pussy if it got their cock wet, but Saint seemed like he could do this forever and be happy.
It made me want him more. I had already cum twice and I wanted to a third time. I wanted to tell him we were just a fling because that’s me. One night and I’m done, but his words only fueled my pleasure. I should be running for the door. Not pressing my pussy further into his face, thinking about what his cock piercing is going to feel like when I get it inside me.
“That’s it, Daddy. Show me how sorry you are for canceling on me. Eat that pussy good and maybe I’ll let you fuck it,” I moan while thrusting my hips. I’m so close to coming again. I didn’t know it was physically possible to cum this many times so close together but I feel another orgasm rising.
“God, Mama, you taste so fucking good,” he says. “I bet you’ll taste even better once I cum in it. You’re going to let me cum all inside you, aren’t you? I bet this pussy is aching for a load of me.”
Oh fuck. His thinking he is going bareback inside me should piss me off, but I feel my pussy clench at his words instead.
“Jeanette!”
“Jeanette, come here, Mama. You know how much I love being on my knees in front of you.”
I feel myself smile at his words. Suddenly the other man grabs my arms and applies pressure to make me drop my gun. He pushes me towards Saint. My Saint. I cling to him and let the sobs take over my body.
SAINT
I carry Jeanette up the stairs to my room at the warehouse. We go straight to the bathroom and I sit her on the counter to undress her. She’s covered in dirt, and her hair is a mess. I take off the ripped sheet she had wrapped around her and her silk panties. She’s completely naked and I try not to let my rage take over.
“Did they touch you?” I ask calmly. I’m holding on to my control by a thread because I don’t know what will set her off and send her back into her dark place, but I need to know.
Jeanette gets a distant, faraway look in her eyes, but I grab her chin and bring her focus back to me. “Talk to me, Mama.” She’s dirty and a little bruised up, but otherwise looks okay. But I know her, and I know she covers up her shit like a pro.
A little smile curves one side of her mouth, and I can see I’ve brought her back with just that name. She loves it when I call her that. No matter how much she says she doesn’t.
She shakes her head, but I look at her sternly and she tells me what happened. I breathe evenly and just let the story wash over me. I make mental notes, but otherwise I don’t move a muscle. After she’s finished with the whole story, my first tho
ughts are of how I’m going to kill Marco. I play it out a few different ways in my mind and I go through a couple of scenarios before Jeanette snaps her fingers in my face.
“Hey! Focus please. I believe you were undressing me—in preparations for a shower, I hope?”
“Yeah, Mama. We’ve got to wash this funk off you.”
She laughs a little and I can see she’s pushed the dark thoughts away. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s so much stronger than I could’ve ever imagined. When I first met this sassy blonde, all I could think about was how to get her over my knee. Who would have thought I’d be the one bending over just to have a chance with her?
Some people might see the way I love her as weakness. The way I give her what she wants and allow her to take the lead may come across as spineless, but what most people don’t see is that’s the only way to keep her. My Jeanette has been through so much and one day she’ll tell me, but I know she has to be in control. For her, control equals love. I think men before me have tried to tame her, and that’s where they went wrong. You can’t tame a tidal wave. You can only hope to hold on, ride it out and pray it doesn’t drown you. My Mama is fierce, and where other men have failed her, I won’t. I’m the first, last, and only man to have her heart and it will forever stay that way.
I turn on the water in the big walk-in shower and get it ready for her. Once it’s heated up, I help her off the bathroom counter and follow behind her to the shower. She goes to the spray and puts her face into it, washing off the dirt. I get the hand-held showerhead and start washing her hair. We don’t speak for a while as I wash her body tenderly. She lets me pamper her this way every time we shower. It’s my way of showing her that I will always worship her, and it’s her way of showing me her vulnerable side. She’s allowing her body to be touched, not in a sexual way, but in a loving way, and that’s a first for her. It’s a first for me too, but I don’t think about my past. To me, there was never anyone before her, and there won’t be anyone after.
