Teaching her to fight has been a sweet sort of torture. She’s been killing me (and my dick), wearing those little workout clothes—sports bras and tight black shorts that hug the curves of her pretty ass like a second skin.
Beyond all of that, though, is Sophie—the way she’s been working out and training over the past two weeks has told me more about her than I could have possibly imagined. She hasn’t been training to spend time with me like I thought. It’s no ruse. It’s obvious that Sophie’s fighting a demon, a ghost, an unseen force, with deep-seated fear and trepidation. In my line of work, I’ve trained plenty of boys and men for both the octagon and the firehouse, and I know when they’re fighting a hell of a lot more than a sparring bag, more than the flames.
Watching her has made me wonder, What’s Sophie fighting?
I mentioned it to Uncle Cade one day, on the phone, and he said, “You’re going to have to hold her loosely, let her know that you’re there for her, but don’t smother her; she’ll run faster from that shit than anything else. And most importantly, stop all your infuriating playboy moves!”
That advice was nearly impossible to follow. Not flirting with Sophie was like not breathing, when she was so damn close I could taste her.
But, Cade had apparently been right. She’d been working shit out, and my not being up in her face, but being a safe place for her to land, brought her closer to me.
And now, here she is, back in my arms, and it’s fucking amazing!
She begins clawing at my shirt. “I want your hands all over my body, Josh. I need to feel you inside of me again.”
Nothing exists in this moment but me and Sophie. I lean her against the wall so I can have use of my hands. I tilt her head and start kissing and sucking on her neck while my thumbs graze over her already hard nipples. I yank the sports bra over her head and toss it to the floor. Once I get my hands firmly on her back, I push her sweet tits out to me and suck each one deliciously. She moans and her hot pussy covers my very hard, very throbbing cock. I stop sucking to move up to her mouth and lick her lips, then grip her tongue between my teeth as I sink my hand down the front of her shorts, under her panties and right to her heat.
“Oh fuck, Sophie, you’re so wet,” I groan into her lips and tickle one finger through her folds before teasing her clit. “You’re so swollen.” I sink one finger inside of her.
Her head drops and she pants with uncontrolled breaths. “More.”
I take my finger out and bring my hand to my mouth. I suck on two fingers, tasting her and watching her while I do.
“Mmm …” I purr. “So fucking delicious.”
Her eyes hood, and her nipples get rock hard against me. I take her mouth as I push two fingers into her. She moans around my plunging tongue and I love it. I swallow each sweet noise as it shoots vibrations of electricity into my stomach and through my needy dick and balls.
Touching her feels so good, I’m ready to come with zero friction.
She cries out as the sensations continue to build within her. I stoop my head to grab her nipple between my lips, where I roll it then flick my tongue over it.
“The massage table, it’s still up,” she manages.
She doesn’t have to suggest it twice. I take my fingers from her—which makes me immediately feel the loss of her heat— support her ass and back and keep kissing her as I maneuver us down the hall toward her office, where the massage table still stands.
I can’t stop kissing her; two weeks has just been too long.
“Hold onto me,” I mumble against her lips and feel her smile. That makes me grin.
When her arms are secured around my neck and I feel her strong thighs pinch me between them, I stretch my arms to feel for the walls and doorway. I find the threshold and carefully walk us through it. Sophie’s now giggling, and it’s beautiful. I love that I’m part of her “working it out” process and, even more, that I’m making her happy.
“I want to be on top,” she says between kisses.
“I’d love that,” I tell her and work my boxer briefs down around my thighs while I get into my desk for my wallet. I fish out a condom and let the briefs slip to my ankles, where I kick them off.
I sit, leaning my ass against the massage table, and she straddles me, kneeling. We both pull her shorts and panties off—we obviously can’t get to each other fast enough.
“Let me touch you,” she purrs and I swear I almost come. I feel it pooling, ready to explode. My dick becomes painfully hard as her sweet, soft hands grip the shaft and massage it up to the neck, where she pulls at it, lengthening it. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long now.”
I think back and remember how she never had a chance to feel me with her hands our first time.
She tickles around the tip, dipping her finger in the overflowing salty liquid and sucking it off her finger.
“You’re going to make me lose it, baby,” I warn.
She smiles at the power she realizes she has over me. Her fingertips continue down my length to my balls, where she cups and massages them. My head lolls back and a growl rises up through my chest. She’s going to kill me, and I think there is no better way to die.
“I can’t believe how big you are, how perfect. And I love your tats, all of them—they speak so much about who you are.” She grazes her other hand over the lowest part of my abdomen, over the black script there that reads, Remembrance. Redemption, along with the date 10/17.
The motion thrills my skin.
“Let me roll it on.” She takes the foil package from my fingers and rips it open. As she scrolls the latex over my rod she says, “If this becomes a regular thing, I may need to invest in some form of birth control.” She meets my eyes. “I’d really love the experience and feel of your flesh inside me.”
“I’ve been tested. Your call, scrapper.” Her fingers are driving me insane.
“Scrapper, huh? I’m the scrapper.” She smiles and I know she means we both are.
I can’t take it anymore, so I lift her by the rib cage and position her over my dick. “Slide me around your sweetness.”
Sophie reaches her hand down and swirls my head through her soft folds. I can imagine the feel of her with no barrier, and since she said it, I’m not going to stop thinking about it until it’s a reality.
I feel my tip enter her and watch as she slowly lowers herself onto my dick, which is burning with need for her. Burying myself inside her is the greatest fucking feeling in the world. Her muscles clench me, squeeze me, milk me.
“Fuck me hard, Josh,” she whines.
I move my hands to her hips, lifting her up and down over my cock as my own hips piston faster. We move in time together. I fill her up entirely. I can feel the soft bump of her cervix at the end of my cock, and every nerve that fires inside her walls makes rippling sensations move over my dick. The pleasure is too much. I’m squeezing her hips hard enough to leave a bruise. I start to let up a little.
“Don’t stop. I want the roughness; it’s a good kind of hurt,” she whimpers.
I can feel myself grow harder and more rigid at the sound of her voice. I pound up and into her with long, deliberate strokes until she throws her head back and screams. I love it—no hotel room walls.
“I’m going to lose it, Josh!” Sophie cries, her gorgeous tits bouncing in my face.
Laying a hand over her shoulder, I pull her hard down on me, and she clamps tighter. “Lose it, baby,” I tell her and pull her breast into my wet, wanting mouth
The spasms inside her walls go off like fireworks, bringing me with her. I shout out her name as the surging magma in my belly and balls erupts.
When we’re both spent, I collapse back against the table and she lies over top of me, resting her head on my chest. The feel of her there comforts me beyond reason. I never realized a woman could make me feel this way. I hold her tightly against me. I’m not going to let go, not for anything.
*****
She’s fidgeting with the neatly tied bow on th
e present while she chews the inside of her cheek.
“Don’t be nervous,” I reassure her. “They’re going to love you.”
“Some people don’t like”—she swallows and it’s audible—“prepackaged families.”
“They’re not like that, Sophie. We’re not like that.”
“CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!” Charlie yells and points out the SUV window. I had to rent it; my Gillette Vertigo is only built for two. I’m seriously thinking I’m going to have to shop for one.
Sophie lets out a deeply held sigh.
The lights Charlie sees are on my family’s ranch. When my dad heard a child would be spending Christmas Eve and morning with us, he spared no expense. It looks like Disney World.
“Trust me, all this—” I wave my hand to indicate the fanfare—“is for her.”
Charlie laughs excitedly.
“If it gets awkward, you’ll bring me home, right?” she whispers.
“Of course.” I squeeze her knee. “I think you’re going to enjoy yourself, though.”
A few days ago I’d finally gotten up the courage to ask her if she was visiting family for Christmas. She wouldn’t elaborate, but simply told me that she’d just planned a quiet holiday with Charlie. Even though we’d only been officially dating for a little less than three weeks at that point, I took a chance and invited her to meet my family.
By the time I park the SUV, she’s wringing her hands. I put a gentle hand on her cheek and turn her to look at me.
“You’re perfect,” I say, and she lets out a staccato breath. Leaning into her, I kiss her lightly glossed lips and taste her warmth mixed with coconut and strawberries. I look into her eyes and smile. “It’s going to all be okay.”
“Joshy kisses Mommy.” Giggles float to our ears. We both smile. Charlie has a sweet way of relieving tension.
She nods and we step out into the North Dakota cold.
Charlie has no fear; she goes running through the larger-than-life blowup Winnie the Pooh menagerie of characters that my dad set up.
“Did I hear car doors?” My mom comes stepping out through the front door. She’s petite with light brown hair and looks just like my sister. She’s bathed in porch light, wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a white silk blouse with a green and red holiday sweater over her shoulders.
“We’re home!” Charlie announces.
“So you are!” my mom answers with just as much enthusiasm. She goes down to one knee. “You must be Charlie! I’m so excited to meet you. I’m Suzanne. You can call me Suzy.”
“Suzy.” Charlie points at my mom while looking for permission from Sophie.
“Say, ‘It’s nice to meet you,’” Sophie coaxes with a smile.
“Nice to meet you.” Charlie jumps into my mom’s arms and Sophie smiles apologetically.
A moment later, Charlie sees the tree behind my mom’s back. “Christmas tree!” she says and runs into the house.
Sophie takes a step toward my mom and extends her hand. “Hello, Suzanne, I’m Sophie.”
My mom ignores her hand, and scoops her into a hug. Sophie is so taken aback by the gesture, it takes her a second to recover and hug my mom in return.
“Josh has never brought a girl home, so you must be very special.”
“MOM!”
“Get over it,” she throws at me. Then, with a kind expression to Sophie, says, “We’re going to be great friends.” She keeps an arm around Sophie’s shoulders and herds her into the house.
“Not even a hug from my own mom,” I mumble, laughing, and walk up the step into the house.
“Holy shit! You really do exist!”
“SAMUEL NORTH! Watch your mouth!”
“Sorry, Mom.”
It’s complete and utter chaos. Everyone is mobbing Sophie and Charlie as if they’re celebrities, doting on them with hugs, handshakes and kisses. I stand back and watch the rushing onslaught—my mom and dad, my sister Jules and her husband Nate, and my brothers: Sam and his girlfriend Kate, Jake and his wife Livie, Caleb and his girl Piper, and then Will. I’m overcome with love for my family. They accept Sophie and Charlie without question or hesitation. I’m proud to be a part of this family.
I think of the year I lost him. I always do when something stirs my soul too deeply. When he was ripped from me, I completely lost myself and hurt a lot of others in the process, but my family never gave up on me. The callous apathy I let grow around my heart that year kept me separated from the family I loved and who loved me. I learned that sometimes we go through things in our lives that alter us forever. But now, watching Sophie and Charlie, it feels like a piece of me is being made whole. I’m filled with the prospect of Sophie and Charlie becoming my family. My own family. That could become a reality. I want it to with her.
Will she want it with me after she learns what happened?
Chapter Fourteen
Sophie
Josh’s family is wealthy, so wealthy in fact, that I’ve never even been in a home as beautiful as theirs, and feel instantly out-of-place. Not good enough would also hit the nail on the head.
It’s gorgeous, lavish and professionally decorated. Interestingly enough, it’s not museum-like, even though it could cross that line—it’s more homey and comfortable. Both Josh’s mom and sister are in name brand, designer clothes and shoes.
Josh takes my coat. I’m dressed nicely in a silky silver dress from Target and tall, black leather boots. I smooth my dress down over my legs.
The other women, Piper, Kate and Livie, are all dressed very casually. That’s good, makes me feel less like I’m sticking out.
Everyone’s being so down-to-earth, genuine and friendly, it soon evokes natural openness from me. In fact, no one’s the least bit stuffy or putting on airs.
Josh talks incessantly about his family; it’s obvious they’re very close. They’re all so at ease with each other. I find myself observing them and the way they interact. They laugh easily together. All the brothers seem like rowdy hooligans. I can’t help but laugh a little and wonder what it must have been like for their mom to raise all four of these hellions.
They each possess a restless energy that seems to require constant motion. And they also bounce that energy between them, because when one sits and gets comfortable for a moment, another takes his place, pacing, talking, entertaining someone else, eating or teasing. The teasing seems to range from good-natured bantering to good-natured competition—bets made, demands to prove oneself, wrestling matches on the floor, chasing around the house. It’s hysterical, and even Charlie is enthralled and entertained by them.
Caleb is the oldest and holds himself with an extra dose of decorum. He and his father, along with Nate, seem to fall easily into business discussions of ranches and oil fields. All three of the men wear nice but casual button up cotton shirts, jeans and work boots or cowboy boots. They’re not fancy.
Now, seeing Caleb and Josh, the second oldest, I wonder how much influence Josh has had on his younger brothers. It seems like a lot, between the athletics and tattoos—but they’re also each very much their own individual personalities.
Something else—I don’t know if it’s because of Josh’s line of work or sports, or what, but he holds himself a little differently than the rest of the North boys. There’s a roughness he has that the other boys don’t seem to have about them, a hardness in the eyes. Except, now that I look closer, I do see some of it in Jake and Josh’s brother-in-law Nate. They’re both a little guarded, like they’ve been through something and they’re not sure if they’re going to let you in. I know I’m right, because it takes one to know one.
All of them are rugged, gorgeous and powerful men, there’s no doubt, and something that moves me deeply is the way they treat their women. Each of them are caring, considerate, devoted. They serve them, touch them tenderly, talk about them as if they’re the greatest women in the world and put them on pedestals. Except for in novels and movies, I’ve never known any men who treated their girlfriends and wi
ves with such deep respect and honor.
It all seems too good to be true. I feel like Alice after she fell through the rabbit hole—disoriented and in a whole new world.
Josh takes a seat next to me and hands me a local Montana-brewed beer. “I see those wheels spinning, scrapper,” he whispers. “You gonna run?”
“I’m still deciding,” I reply.
“If you do, take me with you.” He pushes his leg against mine.
“Enough boring talk about work, sports and fantasy teams,” Julia says, standing up. “I think it’s time for something much more family oriented before dinner.”
Her brothers look at her like they’re debating whether or not to throw her outside in a snowdrift.
She bounces to a large wall lined with bookshelves.
“No!” groans Caleb. “Come on, Jules! There are a hundred other ways you could torture us.”
“Yes, true.” Her voice twinkles sweetly, like a Disney character. “But none quite so rewarding and sinister.”
Caleb rolls his eyes.
“Oh, Jules, it’s a great idea,” her mom, Suzanne, chimes in. “And we have several new initiates to the North family. They need to see what they’re getting into.”
Livie is laughing like she’s totally in on the whole thing. Piper and Kate look at me like maybe I know something. I shrug my shoulders apologetically.
“We should start with these.” Jules, as everyone calls her, turns and is weighed down by six of the thickest photo albums I’ve ever seen. They have to be five inches wide, each!
“Hey! What are you doing?” Nate jumps up from the couch and, in one long stride, is taking the heavy books. “That’s totally too much weight for you to be carrying,” he scolds lovingly. “That’s my job.”
“Of course, you’re going to aid and abet her,” Sam quips.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Nate retorts. “None of my embarrassing naked baby photos are in them.”
Dare Page 14
