by Stacy Gail
“Aaron needs to get his head out of his ass.” The curl of her mouth deepened as she watched the woman grab the man’s face to seal the deal. “Every man needs to realize he’s got to give up a couple kisses before he can achieve the ultimate goal of getting to a woman’s eternal love spot.”
“Yeah, that love spot’s a big goal, but it’s not the ultimate one.”
Her brow’s shot up as her attention swerved back to him. “Oh, really? Trying to convince me that you’re not after my love spot, are you?”
His whole body flashed over with heat, and he could feel his smile almost sizzle with it. “Baby, I’m taking dead aim at your love spot, so it’s a foregone conclusion that not only am I getting it, and getting it good, but you’ll be overcome with gratitude when it happens.”
Her scoff sounded torn between being breathless and amused. “Well, well. Don’t you think you’re special.”
“Nah, I don’t think that. I know it, because I know that’s not the ultimate goal in Operation Sassy Pants.”
“What is?”
“You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Eleven
If one mega-hot kiss and talk of eternal love spots got her so overheated she could barely control her breathing, Sass was in one hell of a lot of trouble.
Excitement thrummed just beneath her skin as they walked back to her apartment, a restless buzz of knowing that something galvanic loomed on the horizon. That “something” was a change in her relationship with her former foster brother and long-ago enemy, and the knowledge that once they made the jump from enemies to lovers, they’d never be able to go back.
But instead of sending her into a froth-at-the-mouth freak-out like it had an hour ago, that thought now made her girlie parts tingle in all the good ways.
They were really going to do this. And after he’d opened up and shared his innermost self with her, she was now ready to share herself with him.
Like any idiot, she’d worry about the consequences later.
“You remember the rules, right?” Sass closed the door behind them and locked it, glancing back to watch him take his phone out of his leather jacket before he shrugged it off to sling it over one of the fluffy white sheepskin chairs flanking the purple sofa. “No promises, just fun. Sound like something you can handle?”
“I’ve handled plenty just like that.” Dropping the phone on the tufted ottoman, he held his hand out to her. “You too, right?”
Her fingers curled into his, though for a moment she was weirdly unsettled at the thought of just how many was plenty. “It works.”
“Other things work too.” With her hand still in his, he sat in the middle of the sofa, then pulled her onto his lap facing him, so that her knees sank into the cushions on either side of his hips. His hand guided hers to his shoulder, his eyes on hers as his hands then came to land on her hips to pull her in nice and close. “I’m a big believer in exclusivity. If we’re together, that’s it. There’s no one else but me in your world, and no one else but you in mine. Yeah?”
“I’m good with that.” She smiled when his hands slid down to cup her ass. She’d never known that hands on her butt could feel so good. “That’s just common courtesy.”
“It’s more than that.” His body heat radiated into her even as his fingers gripped her glutes and squeezed, an action that brought her to partially lie against his chest. “As long as you’re in my bed, this ass is mine. I never share.”
Her breath caught before she forced a casual nod, as if his words hadn’t resonated through her in a way she liked a little too much. “Considering you didn’t want to share bathroom-time with us strays, I’ve already figured out that sharing’s not a natural instinct for you. This isn’t a problem.”
“Good. That reminds me of another thing I need to get squared away before we go any further.” He craned his neck up so his mouth could toy with hers for a heart-stopping moment. Then he backed away to look her right in the eyes. “You’re not a stray anymore, so I’m not going to let you call yourself that.”
She frowned, bewildered. What did that have to do with anything? “Rude—”
“You’re going to change that mindset, Sass, and you’re going to start doing that today.”
For some reason her thoughts went back to her one-sided chat with Red The Skittish, and how it might be possible for a stray to stop being a stray. “It’s just a name.”
“It’s how you identify yourself, but that’s an old framework and it no longer fits who you are. It holds you back.”
“I don’t—”
“You have a home, you’ve got a steady job you’ve been working for years, and you’ve got family and friends who’ve loved you for nearly half your life. Face it, Sass—you’ve put down roots. Serious, deep-ass roots, and you did it because that was what you wanted and needed to do. Strays don’t do that. Strays don’t even think that way, and there’s a reason for that—strays are temporary. You’re not.”
She searched his eyes for a long moment and saw that not only was he was dead serious about this, he wasn’t going to budge until he got his way. “If it means that much to you, okay.”
“It means a lot to me that you leave that stray shit in the past where it belongs, and you get focused on the reality that you’re a very different person now. Not everyone in your life has to be seen as the just-passing-through variety. Because baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He caught her mouth again, this time delving deep while one hand left her hip to move to the tab of her jacket’s zipper.
Finally.
The sound of the zipper was loud in her ears as she felt it give way. She helped him slip it off and tossed it to the floor, her mouth never leaving his while his hands slid up her rib cage covered in a black camisole to capture her breasts. His mouth took in her gasp as his fingers curled over the sensitive flesh, and even through the layers of camisole and bra she could feel the sharp puckering of her nipples.
Damn, but she liked his hands on her.
Her nerve endings clamored to feel his skin against hers until it was almost painful, and the boldly kneading pressure of his fingers against her breasts communicated a similar hunger. His thin, black knit sweater and the white T-shirt he wore underneath it were barriers that had to be eradicated, and she wasted no time in doing so, tossing them in the same general direction of her jacket.
Then everything inside her crashed to a halt when she looked at what she’d unveiled.
“Oh…my.” Fearing she might actually swoon for the first time in her life, Sass stared at the broad expanse of his chest. She wasn’t sure, of course, but she’d be willing to bet serious money that there wasn’t a more perfect specimen of manhood than Rude anywhere in the city, maybe even the state. He was beyond hot, beyond yummy. He was straight-up perfect. And she’d been right about his build; there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh on him. His muscles seemed to have muscles, and his washboard abs were in dire need of being licked. There was a surgically straight scar under the right rib cage that sliced along his side and disappeared behind his back, with dark staple holes still evident. His impressive chest was decorated with another scar under the right clavicle, and another scar—she thought it might be from a bullet—on his upper left arm.
A text-style tattoo covered his defined left pectoral. After a closer inspection she saw it was a list of about a dozen or so names, the last of which was Edward “Boomer” Barilla. Her thudding heart fractured when she realized the tattoo was a very private memorial—a list of his fallen comrades that he’d had placed over his heart. Without a thought, she bent and pressed her lips to those precious names, and silently promised them that like Rude, she would never forget them.
“Jesus, baby.” His breath came in hard, audible gusts, and that excited her so much she shivered. Then it occurred to her that no man had ever come close to making her shiver.
“You’re beautiful.” Her mouth slid to the flat disc of his nipple, and she circled the tip of her tongue
around it until it became pebble-hard. “I knew you would be.”
“Fuck.” A harsh intake of breath whistled through his clenched teeth. As his arms tightened on her, she saw a colorful USMC tattoo covering his upper right arm and shoulder, complete with a depiction of an eagle carrying the world, with an anchor behind it. Flame coloring was the background for the tat, with the words “Semper Fi” highlighted within the flames. “I was going to tell you to slow down so we can savor every second, but screw that. My hands need to feel you, my mouth needs to be on you, my cock needs be inside you, and I’m dying because you’re still wearing clothes. No.” He lightly slapped at her hands as she reached for the hem of her camisole, and she shivered again when his hot smile burned over her. “No one gets to unwrap my present but me.”
“You’re so spoiled.” Her breath was coming just as fast as his as she reached down and nudged her shoes off. “What’s yours is yours, and that’s all there is to it.”
“I grew up one hell of a lot while I was away, but I’m still me. And I’m not ashamed to admit that I like to keep what’s mine, as mine.” Leaning forward, his smiling mouth caught hers in a hot, deep kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough to suit her. He leaned back, breaking off the kiss and giving himself room to peel off the camisole, leaving her in just a lacy black bra and black and pink yoga pants.
She was so involved in what he might be interested in removing next that she didn’t immediately hear the off-and-on vibrating of his phone on the ottoman behind her. Only when he stilled and looked over her shoulder did the sound fully penetrate, and with it came a spark of unreasonable irritation.
Was he really weighing which deserved his attention more—her, or some unknown caller?
“Decide which is more important—me, or that call.” To her shock, she heard the aggressive words shoot out of her. When the hell did she ever get aggressive when it came to men? That wasn’t like her at all.
But still… she wanted him focused on her, like she was on him.
Was that too much to ask?
“It’s not a call, it’s a text. And FYI—that decide now shit might work on those weak-ass little boys you’ve played with in the past, but it’ll never fly with me.”
The irritation flirted with the border of frustration-fueled anger, and she got up on her knees to slide off his lap. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone to—”
“I said, it’s not going to fly.” Wrapping an arm firmly around her waist, he moved with her. But not to help her stand up. No. Much to her vexation, he got to the edge of the sofa to reach his free hand out for the phone, then settled back against the cushions while still holding her to him once he had it.
And with that one hand, his eyes and attention on the phone, he began to work the phone’s screen.
Sass didn’t think of herself as the center of the universe. Life didn’t fuck around when it came to showing abandoned children how much they didn’t matter. She knew her place on the planet, and that place was nowhere. Throughout her growing-up years she’d had to accept that truth and swallow it whole, all the while hating that it left her feeling worthless. Like she was nothing.
She’d had to take it then.
She didn’t have to take it now.
“Let me go.”
“Don’t get excited. I just need to do this.”
“Let me go, Rude. Now.”
His preoccupied gaze flicked to her when her tone registered, and his expression changed until he appeared to be as irritated as she was. “Relax. I’m going to make a call that’ll last ten fucking seconds, and then we’ll get back to where we left off.”
“I don’t think so.” With her palms planted firmly against his magnificent chest, she pushed against the arm wrapped like a steel band around her back to show him she meant business. “The mood’s gone. All I want to do now is get up and make sure my clothes don’t wrinkle.”
To her shock, the arm at her back tightened hard rather than letting her go. “Fuck the clothes, Sass. I’m not letting you go off in a snit over nothing.”
I’m not letting you go…
“Rude, stop fooling around and let me go, okay?”
“No, you’re staying right where you are until I’m finished.”
Her heart began to pound. Sweat broke out along her upper lip. She pushed harder while her stomach twisted slickly and the first stirrings of panic fluttered. “I’m serious, Rude. Let me up.”
“You’re being ridiculous, getting this upset over a shitty little phone call. This is my work, and this how my life is.” With his attention firmly on the phone, his arm clamped down vise-like in answer to her struggles. “You need to find a way to cope with the fact that sometimes shit doesn’t always go as planned. Being a demanding, high-maintenance bitch isn’t going to change that.”
With just one arm, he had her trapped. God, he was strong. So much stronger than she was… “Please, okay? I’m really serious, Rude, please, please let me go.”
Oh God, she was shaking.
“No.”
“Please.” Pleasepleaseplease…
“You’re not going anywhere. Not until I say so.”
She couldn’t get out. She couldn’t get out. She couldn’t fucking get out.
“Please let me go.”
“No.”
Trapped.
Something snapped inside, unleashing a panic so extreme she went partially blind with it. She saw only a frenzy of body parts, his and hers, and heard only her own gasping breaths that verged on being either sobs or airless screams. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered because she had to get out, get out, get out—
“Sass!”
She was free and scrabbling first on all fours, and then stumble-running down the hall to fling herself into the first room she came to with a door that locked, the guest bathroom. The slam of it snapped her out of the panicked fog even as she turned the lock with wildly shaking fingers.
God.
God.
He was so strong.
She was weak.
She was nothing.
“Sass.”
With a fractured sound she jumped back from the door and blindly tucked herself into the miniscule space between the commode and the vanity, her icy fingers gripping the lip of the raised basin as she stared in numb horror at the door. She would not throw up. No. She would find control. She would see where she was, understand that she was safe, she would stop the screaming inside, and above all she would not throw up.
“Baby, can you hear me?”
She jumped at the sound of the voice coming through the door, a yelp escaping her raw throat.
“Try and slow down your breathing, okay? Easy. Easy.”
Slowly her knees gave way, and as her ass landed on the toilet she took note that her breaths were coming in shallow, shrill, scream-like gasps. Oh. Hyperventilating. That was why she couldn’t stand anymore. She wasn’t getting enough air. Another minute and she’d be out cold.
God, that sounded good.
Minutes dragged by with agonizing slowness, until at last the rhythm of her breathing slowed and her lungs once again filled with ease. And with a healthy supply of oxygen feeding her brain, the horror and shame of losing it in front of someone—for God’s sake, Rude, of all people—sank its poison into every corner of her soul.
“Sass?”
She squeezed her eyes closed before she dropped her head into the clammy curve of the arms held in front of her as she gripped the lip of the raised sink. But hiding didn’t stop the humiliation from ripping her apart. No, no, this was worse than a nightmare. She couldn’t face him. Not now. Not when he’d seen her at her craziest. She wasn’t crazy, but he didn’t know that. And he certainly couldn’t know it now. She’d ruined everything. Damn it, what he must think of her—
“Sass, baby, I can’t hear you anymore, and I don’t like that. I’m going to open the door if you don’t sound out.”
No, no, no.
“I’m…” Her voice was a croak. With
most of her strength gone, she could barely lift her head out of the cradle of her arms. “I’m f-fine. Go. Away.”
“Can’t go away, baby. If I do, I’ll never see you again. You’ll never let me back in.”
Bingo. “Please. Please. Go.”
There was an electric beat of silence. “From now on, I swear to Christ I’ll listen to you when you say please, because I’ll know you mean it. I swear it, baby. But going away is something I can’t do. I just can’t. So open the door and let me see you’re okay, or I’ll open it myself.”
Slowly she dropped her head back into the curve of her arms, belatedly realizing that she was shivering uncontrollably now that the sweat that had filmed her body had started to dry—or ice over, she wasn’t sure which. She couldn’t let him in, even if she wanted to. She couldn’t move. That emotional rollercoaster ride from hell had totally zapped her.
She was done.
The rattle on the door handle was subtle but it caught her attention. Her head came up, and the action was such a strain it intensified her shivering to all-out quaking. Twin tears of burning shame slid silently down her cheeks as the door opened and Rude looked in at the shaking, sweat-soaked mess she was.
Please go…
“Safety locks,” he said bizarrely, and reached in to put an ice pick she recognized as hers on the sink’s vanity. “The hole on the outside doorknob is there in case a kid or someone gets locked in. Just depress the lock with an ice pick or something else that fits, and bam—Open Sesame.”
Good to know. First chance she had, she’d get the door knob changed out.
Without entering the small room, he hunkered down just outside the doorway until he was at eye level with her. “That shivering you’re suffering through now… it’s a fight-or-flight reaction, baby. It’s kind of like going into shock. Your body’s reacting this way because it feels like it’s been attacked, do you understand? I need to get you warmed up, or it’ll get worse.”
She could hardly find the strength to look at him, her abject humiliation was so crushing. “Please.” It was barely a thread of sound, and it echoed with all the anguished misery burning her to death inside. “Go. Away.”
