He squatted just enough to bring his gaze level with the scars that marred the soft flesh of her middle. Sage tilted her head back, eyes focused on the patio cover and night sky beyond as more tears fell. She’d pushed this part of her life so far back into the recesses of her mind that laying it out on the table now felt like ripping a scab from a wound.
She was exposed, vulnerable all over again, the broken shell of a girl who’d—
Sage froze, her breath catching in her throat, as Brand’s lips brushed over each scar, one after the other, slowly, until he’d kissed each horror away. Four scars, four kisses.
She felt him stand, her gaze still on the stars.
“Look at me.”
She closed her eyes, forcing more tears to fall, then opened them as she tilted her head to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes glistened with regret.
Sage shook her head. She didn’t blame him for this, regardless of why she’d done it, why she’d cut that last time. She couldn’t blame him. It hadn’t truly ever been his fault.
“No, Sage, listen to me. I’m sorry. I’ve never loved anyone but you, and yet, I let you down. I promised I’d protect you, promised I’d keep you safe.” His eyes now downcast, he sighed. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Brand,” her voice shook as she said his name, a plea, a promise, a second chance. “It wasn’t your fault.” She reached up and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes again. “It wasn’t your job to protect me, Brandon. Wasn’t your job to save me from myself.”
Before he could argue, Sage pressed her lips to his, holding his head to hers as he’d done to her just moments ago, returning the fervor of his earlier kiss, pressing her tongue into his mouth until he responded in kind.
Soon they were a mess of hands and tongues and mouths and teeth and kisses…and forgiveness.
Sage could no longer tolerate the jeans that kept them apart.
She pushed him away, and Tig instantly felt the loss of her, panic gripping his chest for the briefest of moments as the night air squeezed between them, cooling his heated skin.
He smiled as she attacked her jeans, quickly pushing them down around her feet, then stepping out of them.
In all her glory, Sage stood there before him, exposed in the moonlight. His. Only his.
Finally his.
He let his gaze travel up and down her body, trying to soak in every inch of her, burning the image of her alabaster skin to his mind, memorizing every curve of the dips and valleys of her form, planning to replay this moment over again in his mind if she was ever not in reach.
Her bra was blue lace, matching the panties that still covered her, and he wanted to pull them off right then and there, but too many neighbors were close by, and being caught in their skivvies was one thing.
When his gaze finally found hers again, she smiled wickedly, and he almost came undone. Then she winked.
“Race ya!” She dodged past him, and all he could do was watch. Frozen in place, his dick so hot and hard he could barely move his legs, he watched her bound to the pool, her ass shaking with each footfall.
Holy hell, she was a goddess.
Sage dove in, disappearing into the cool, blue water, the sound jolting Tig into motion. He made quick work of his pants—his shirt still resting on the floor of his place—then followed the short path she’d taken and dove in after her. The water caressed him, welcomed him like an old friend; he opened his eyes, found her standing just a little ways away, then swam straight toward her. She didn’t move, just waited, and he knew she watched him from above the surface.
He stopped right in front of Sage, then slowly rose, breaking the surface mere inches away from her.
Water dripped from her hair, still restrained in that uptight twist-thing. Tig frowned, then reached past her. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands searched her hair, then he found the long clip and rifled for a way to undo it.
Sage smiled, then reached up, and with one quick movement of her delicate hand, her hair was free, tumbling in one wet clump to her shoulders. So long, so blonde, so beautiful.
He looked away from her hair, his gaze travelling over her face, her collarbone, down to the perfect, full mounds of pale skin just barely exposed above the water.
His pulse sped, feeding the pressure in his groin.
Tig shook his head as his gaze found her eyes once more. “You’re…I mean…I can’t find the words.” He grabbed her by the back of the neck, frustrated by his suddenly stunted vocabulary and the few inches that separated them, and pulled her mouth to his, crushing his lips against hers in a desperate need to taste her.
His chest ached; just being near her wasn’t enough. He wanted to hold her as closely as he could, feel every beat of her heart. He wanted to be inside her. Taste her. Feel her. Smell her. He wanted even more than that—his very soul had always hungered for her—but he’d never quite been able to figure out a way to get even closer to her.
She’d consumed him then, and she consumed him now. He wanted to drown in Sage Shepard. And then drown again. And again.
Sage wrapped her arms around his neck, and she pulled her legs up around his waist, pushing her tongue further into his mouth. He groaned, the way she pressed against his dick making it nearly impossible to think, to focus, to not rip her panties off and slip inside her warmth.
He broke the kiss, panting for air. “Sage, I, I can’t—”
She looked up at him, eyelids heavy. “The pool was a bad idea—”
“No,” he moaned, dipping his head to suck on her lower lip. “The pool was a fantastic idea.” He dropped his gaze down to her full breasts pressed against his chest, then back up to meet her storm cloud eyes. “But I don’t think we want to get caught doing what I’m about to do to you.”
Her eyes widened, and as she sucked in a breath, his eyes locked on her swollen lips, and he questioned his reasoning. Why couldn’t they stay in the pool?
“Take me home, Brand.”
With the sound of his name on her lips, he nearly forgot all logic and reason, but he nodded curtly, then carried her out of the water.
Sensations shot clear down into Tig’s toes as Sage plunged her tongue deeper into his mouth. He gripped her tighter, then slid his hands down either side of her body until he could cup her plump ass and lift her up. The towel fell away, a wet heap on the beige, 70’s style apartment carpeting. He wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning into her open mouth as her body rubbed against his throbbing dick.
Without breaking contact with her mouth, Tig carried Sage to his bedroom, holding her to him with one arm, and guiding his way with the other. When his knees hit the bed, he wasted no time, sliding her down to her back atop his sheets.
The raw hunger in Sage’s gaze lit Tig’s soul on fire. He nodded toward the head of the bed, then watched her slowly crawl backward, taking in every glorious inch of this woman he’d dreamt about for over a decade. He still recognized that fragile girl he fell in love with—the scars, the “Broken Dreams” tattoo scripted across and around one shoulder, the old piercing holes now healed over, her delectable ivory skin, and gray, guarded eyes—but the grown woman in his bed embodied sex. Passion. Pure, carnal.
Her breasts—she had to have gotten them done—spilled from the satin and lace bra she wore, those perfect eraser-tipped nipples slightly exposed where they pushed against the wet lace. He imagined ripping that lace with his teeth and could barely keep himself from jumping on top of her. Her stomach, soft and so damn kissable—the perfect image of a girl grown into a woman; so feminine, so curvy. Her ribs no longer poked out from a too-small frame, and though he’d never treat her without care and delicacy, he knew this Sage was anything but fragile.
Tig wanted to spend hours exploring the hills and valleys of her body, not just with his eyes this time, but his hands, his tongue….
Her hips spread out beneath her waist like a goddamned hourglass, drawing his focus south to the way t
he muscles in her legs moved as she wiggled up the bed.
He could restrain himself no longer. Not touching her would kill him.
Tig crawled up the bed, his mouth watering as he leaned down over the soft mound of her belly, then licked and kissed and sucked his way around her belly button, tasting the chlorine from the pool, the salt of her skin. He travelled farther south until he reached the lace waist of her panties. He ran a hand down the front of her, then clamped his palm over the heated area between her legs, eliciting a gasp from those full, perfect lips.
“Good Lord, Brand”—he looked up as her eyes rolled back in her head—“you’re killing me.”
Tig grinned.
He’d done the slow, deliberate thing when he’d restrained himself in the pool. It had taken every bit of his self-control, and then some more that he didn’t even know he’d had, but he’d been patient—he’d wanted to undress her since the second he laid eyes on that perfect ass in the administration office. He had no restraint left.
He ran his hands up, from ankles to inner thighs, pressing gently until she spread beneath his touch. Sage wiggled happily as Tig ran his hands over her skin, grazing her inner thighs, brushing over the tiny map of scars he remembered so well, inching closer and closer to the apex of her legs, where wetness from the pool—and, he hoped, her desire—soaked through the fabric of her panties. He paused, running his lips across the scars on first her left leg, then her right, a brief hello to the past he shared with this amazing woman in his bed. He slid his hands up, then down again, then open-mouth kissed the soft, pale skin of her thighs, reintroducing himself to every inch, every scar, every cell of this goddess he’d loved for so long.
Once-black ink caught his eyes, so faded it now barely registered as navy blue, and he smiled at the untouched broken heart on her hip, a little reminder of the girl he knew before. He traced the tattoo with his thumb, sliding the lace down enough to see it in its entirety.
“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to get that thing covered.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
He splayed his hands against her skin on either side of her lace panties, bringing his thumbs down over the line of her folds. She pressed into him, moaning as he rubbed up and down over the lace. His dick strained against his boxer briefs the way he knew she strained against the confines of her satin and lace prison. He rubbed again a few more times until her hand landed in his wavy hair and gripped a handful.
Tig looked up into her eyes, his mouth mere inches from her center. He leaned forward further, bringing his lips to the lace as he spoke. “Something wrong, Miss Shepard?” The words hummed against the fabric, vibrating his lips and hers.
He licked straight up the center of the satin, reveling in the way Sage released his hair, and her arms flailed out to grab the blankets beside her as her head fell back onto the pillow.
Tig quickly pulled her panties down, careful not to tear the delicate lace, even though he still imagined the fabric ripping between his teeth.
He stood, sliding his underwear down his legs with lightning speed, then nearly falling over in his haste to step out of them.
She giggled, and he looked up, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her completely naked body splayed out on his bed—her bra obviously discarded while he’d been tumbling out of his boxers—waiting for him to fuck her.
“What’s so funny?” He practically growled the words, but not from anger. His hunger for her was palpable, carnal.
No. Not fuck. He’d never fucked this woman in all the years he’d known her. This was the kind of girl then, and woman now, that men made love to. He wanted to play her body like a baby grand piano, caressing every delicate inch of her like her skin was actually made of ivory. He wanted to explore her, taste her, slide into her until he filled her, then push her past pleasure to the point of near-pain. The point of no return.
“You’re in a big hurry. Where’s the fire?”
He raised his eyebrows. Sage wanted to see fire. He refused to be one to disappoint—not her, never again.
Challenge accepted, Miss Shepard. He grabbed her legs at the knees, gently spreading them until he could spread them no further, then gripped the back of each thigh so she couldn’t close her legs. Bringing his mouth back down, he blew his breath over her skin, then plunged his tongue into the soft folds of her flesh. The wetness hit his taste buds and he moaned into her, pressing harder, further, greedy for more. His body ached to be inside her, but she’d asked where the fire was, and he’d be damned if he didn’t light her fucking world up right now the way he knew he could.
“Oh my God,” she moaned.
He exhaled against her again, then pulled her nub into his mouth, sucking on the tender skin.
“Holy shit, holy shit, Brand—”
He moaned when she said his name, knowing what the vibrations would do to her, then slid his tongue deep inside her, pushing as far as he could….
“Oh my God, it’s better than—”
He paused. Was she just about to compare him to some other dude?
“Fuck, Brand, please don’t stop. It’s even better than I remember!”
Something about the way she said fuck made Tig’s dick even harder than before. Blood swelled, pressing the tip of his penis into the bed. He’d always loved her rebelliousness, and the way her heart-shaped mouth formed each dirty word. He better make his way inside her soon or he’d come all over his own comforter.
Satisfied that she wasn’t comparing him to some Joe Schmo, Tig returned to pleasing Sage with his tongue, plunging deep into her, then pulling out, then sucking her nub into his mouth, then humming against her skin.
Plunge. Suck. Hum. Repeat.
From the corner of his eyes he caught Sage tangling her fingers around the blankets. Her hips pressed her up into his mouth and her back arched. She was close, but he wanted to feel it, and damn it all to hell he just couldn’t get his tongue in far enough.
He ran his fingertips up and down over her swollen center, coating his fingers with sweet wetness, then slid one finger inside. She pressed against him. He pulled out, then slid two fingers inside her. He turned his hand palm up, then brought his fingertips up against the inner wall, pressing against the pleasure spot, then began pressing and releasing to the rhythm of his tongue sliding over her nub, and his other hand kneading her ass.
“Oh God….”
He wanted to hear his name on those lips, not God’s. Tig wouldn’t be satisfied until she screamed his name at the top of her lungs, shaking the walls and shattering in convulsions around his mouth and hand. He pressed up against the g-spot once more, harder, then rubbed, picking up speed as she bucked against him. His hand left her ass, reaching up to cup her full breast. He squeezed and released, then rubbed over the nipple, coaxing a response from the pert tip as he continued to rub up and down over her swollen inner wall.
“Come for me, Sage,” he murmured against her, humming the words, vibrating the slick surface of her skin.
“Oh God…oh my”—Sage gasped as he pressed one last time, then sucked her clit and the surrounding skin into his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue side to side over the swollen nub—“Brand! Brand…now!”
She clenched around his fingers, her body spasming as her orgasm rocked her from head to toe. She tried to climb away from him, the pleasure too much to handle, but he held her by the fingers hooked inside her, pressed firmly against her inner wall, his other hand gripping her hip.
He pushed her further, rubbing the g-spot once more, then pressing against it, then rubbing again.
Her body shook with one final shudder, and Tig’s grin nearly cracked his face in half as Sage flooded around his fingers.
Sage twitched like a leaf in the wind, reveling in the aftermath of the best damn orgasm she’d ever had.
And they hadn’t even had sex.
Yet.
Her limbs? Jell-O. Her skin tingled; heated and flushed from every touch of his hands, every stroke of h
is fingers inside her.
Speaking of….
His fingers still inside her, Brand slowly rubbed gentle circles against her g-spot, which, from past experience, should have been too sensitive so soon after climax to be of much use—and yet, already she felt him coaxing her body back to him.
She uncurled herself from the fetal position—something she hadn’t realized she’d done—stretching as pleasure began to fill her once more.
Brand smiled, then ran his hand up the center of her belly, between her breasts, then around one of them, then the other. His slow massage matched the tenderness of his soothing fingers inside her, and she couldn’t help shaking her head.
He was so much better than she remembered. Good Lord.
“You look surprised, Sage.”
He leaned forward, blowing gently against her throbbing center, sending shivers shooting into her toes. Her body jerked.
When he sat back up, and after she recovered from her near-orgasm—just from someone blowing across my skin, for fuck’s sake!—she reached down to grab his wrist, stilling his fingers inside her.
Brand raised one perfectly golden-brown eyebrow.
“Come here.”
He pulled his hand from between her legs, and Sage was half tempted to clamp her thighs together, locking him back in place though she’d just told him to stop. Her legs twitched, as if agreeing with her thoughts, causing a smile to pull up at her lips.
“What’s so funny?”
Sage licked her lips. “I just had to fight myself.”
“Huh?” Brand settled himself above her, his hard length pressing delightfully between her legs, his weight resting on his hands.
“I wanted to keep you inside me.”
His green eyes flared. “As you wish.” He leaned down to kiss her, rubbing against the swelling between her legs. Sage gasped, just as Brand’s lips closed over hers. He took advantage of her surprise, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth, and memories of that tongue plunging elsewhere just minutes ago flashed to the forefront of her mind. She opened her legs wider, then lifted up to rub herself against his shaft.
Chlorine and Chaos Page 6
