Yeah, you and me both.
His mom worried about him. Went on about him settling down every other week. The last thing he needed was her getting false hope.
They left, and Rusty walked beside him in silence. Then without a word, she slid her hand in his, silently offering up a piece of herself to him. He latched on, took what she was freely giving. Right then he needed it, needed her. Her touch, her warmth—shit, it made his gut twist in knots.
“Take me home, Reid.” Her voice was soft, softer than he’d ever heard it, and sweet. His stomach clenched at her words. Of course she wanted him to take her home.
All he wanted to do was crush her to him and never let her go.
She was going to end it. She’d been amazing through this, had gone to his mother and comforted her without hesitation. Still, he was selfish. He wanted more from her. Shit, he wanted it all. But this was the way it had to be, how could it not after what she’d just witnessed?
“Yeah, babe, I’ll take you home.” His voice came out rougher than he’d ever heard it. He wanted to add that he understood, maybe throw in an “it was nice while it lasted” or “hey, maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” but his mouth felt too dry, and he couldn’t force the words out.
But then she shook her head, moving in closer, tits and belly pressing into his arm. He looked down at her tucked against him, and she stared up, no more pity, just open and fucking beautiful. “No. I want you to take me home, to your place.”
She still wanted him? A fucking boulder formed in his throat, and he swallowed it down so he could speak. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
Shit. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Twelve
Reid’s Plymouth rumbled up a short driveway in the exclusive Lincoln Beach area and slid into a four-bay garage off the side of a two-story house. There were two other cars taking up space, a black Escalade and a beautifully restored cherry red Cadillac Fleetwood.
The garage door slid shut behind them, and Reid turned off the engine and opened his door. Rusty did the same, climbing out. The sound of waves crashing and the scent of sea air surrounded her instantly. They were close to the beach, and the awesome view he’d described over the phone.
The sick feeling in her stomach hadn’t subsided—a feeling that had near overwhelmed her when they’d pulled up outside Reid’s mother’s house—no, it kept growing and twisting. She’d misjudged him, couldn’t have been more wrong. She’d assumed he’d come from privilege, that he hadn’t worked his ass off for everything he had. Jesus, what he’d come from, it made all he’d built, all he had achieved that much more amazing.
But then nothing should surprise her where Reid was concerned. The more she got to know him, the more layers he’d revealed, the more she liked him.
He came around and took her hand, leading her to the door. He hadn’t said much since leaving his mother, and she was struggling with what to say. The man was ashamed of what she’d witnessed, that much was obvious. He had no reason to be, of course. Rusty felt no different toward him now than she had before they pulled up and saw his father. She wanted to tell him that, but the way he held his shoulders, the set of his jaw, made it clear talking about what just happened was the last thing he wanted to do.
God, what he must have suffered growing up, what he must have seen and heard.
He led her up a short set of stairs and into a big open kitchen. In fact, when he flicked on the lights, the whole place appeared to be open plan. Big comfy couch and chairs, huge TV mounted on the wall. The kind of furniture you’d expect in a bachelor pad. Windows made up the entire front wall, looking out to the ocean. They weren’t close to the beach, they were on the beach. If she opened the doors and stepped outside, her feet would sink into sand. There was a surfboard propped against the wall by sliding doors, sand scattered on the floor around it.
“You surf?”
“Yeah. You want a drink, something to eat?” He was still in the kitchen, watching her take in his place. She couldn’t read the expression on his face because he’d shut everything down, making sure not to expose a damn thing.
“Is that how you broke your nose?”
“Nope.” His gaze remained locked on hers, telling her to leave it and answering her question all at once.
Her stomach lurched. Oh, God. His father did that to him? Another wave of guilt, of shame, over her initial judgment of him hit hard.
“I picked up fresh pasta from Connie earlier, it’ll only take a few minutes to cook if you’re hungry.”
“I’m good for now.” He opened the fridge and held up a soda. “Thanks.”
Grabbing two, he joined her in the living room, and they sat on the couch. He opened her drink and handed it to her. His fingers brushed hers and a zing of awareness skated up her arm.
His dark hair was no longer in a knot at the back of his head, it’d come loose during the scuffle with his father and had obviously been short at some point because it was different layers.
Lifting his bottle, he took a long pull, tattooed throat working as he polished off half his drink. His lips were shiny when he finished, and she wanted to taste them, badly. She wanted to make him forget everything that had happened earlier, wipe away all the anger, all the pain he thought he was hiding.
He was staring out at the ocean, picking unconsciously at the label on his drink. “I’m sorry you had to see that, with my old man…”
She reached out, rested her hand on the inside of his strong, corded forearm, over the thick-edged star tattoo there, and gave him a squeeze. “You don’t need to apologize to me. It wasn’t you acting that way.” The muscle under her fingers bunched hard as stone. “I can only imagine what it must have been like for you, when you were a kid…”
“I kicked him out.” He sat forward, elbows resting on his knees, bottle dangling from his fingers between his legs. “When I was seventeen, when I was strong enough to throw him out and keep him out. I had a full-time job by then, which meant I could take over most of the expenses.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I think he gets so wasted he forgets.”
Jesus. “I’m sorry…”
Shooting to his feet, he took a step back. He didn’t look at her, continued to stare out at the ocean. “I should take you home.” He placed his drink on the table and crossed his arms over his wide chest, heavy biceps bunching, straining against the sleeves of his shirt. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
He didn’t want her pity, and she got that. In reality they barely knew each other, and she’d just witnessed what she could clearly see shamed him. Placing her drink on the coffee table, she stood and moved closer, close enough she could feel the heat of his body radiating from his skin, and shook her head. “I don’t want to go home.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped, and he dropped his arms to his sides. “This isn’t a good idea, Rusty. Not tonight.”
She rested her hand on his chest and moved in closer. “No?”
His breathing grew choppy, but he kept his arms at his sides. “No,” he rasped.
She skimmed her hand down over his ridged abs. “You don’t want me to stay with you tonight?” His muscles tightened as she trailed over them, back up to his chest. His heart thumped rapidly below her palm, beating in time with her own racing pulse. “If you really don’t want me here, I’ll go. But I don’t think you want that.”
His lips were set in a grim line, eyes locked on hers, dark and intense. The man was wild, utterly beautiful. “Fuck…Rusty.” He lifted his hand and shoved it into his hair.
She had no idea what she was doing, she’d never seduced a guy before, had never wanted to. Once she got him in the sack, it wasn’t like she had much in the way of experience to guide her. She’d probably make a complete fool of herself, but she wanted Reid, and she got the feeling he needed her as well. Tonight more than ever.
He carried a lot on those broad shoulders. Not only his businesses, and the staff that relied on him, but an abusive, alcoholic fat
her and the care and welfare of his mother. Something he’d been doing since he was old enough to. The thought made her heart hurt.
“Do you want me?” she asked. “You said you wanted me naked, underneath you in your bed. Do you still want that?” She held her breath as she waited for him to answer.
A growl escaped his throat. “You know I do.” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “Tonight, the way I feel, I can’t be gentle. I need it rough. You’re not ready for the kind of rough I’m talking about. Don’t push this. There’s only so much I can take before I fucking break, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
Lust surged through her, hard and fast, and she was surprised her panties didn’t go up in flames. Everything he’d just said hit her in all the right places. No, she’d never had it rough, but she wanted it any way he chose to give it to her. “I know I lack experience, but I’m not a virgin. And I’m not some weak-minded idiot who doesn’t know what she wants. I want you, Reid. However you give it to me. I’m a big girl. I won’t break.”
His breathing grew heavier, nostrils flaring, pupils dilating. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Going up on her tiptoes, she nipped his lower lip. “Show me.” Her breasts pressed against his chest, and she nuzzled along his jaw, kissing where he’d taken the hit from his father, where a light bruise was forming. “Please, Reid.”
Suddenly his arms were around her in a bone-crushing grip. The scent of his deodorant, clean sweat, and a hint of motor oil invaded her senses, and she couldn’t help but rub up against him, seeking more of his heat, more of everything.
His body shook with the effort to restrain himself, but she didn’t want that, didn’t want him to hold back. She wanted to give him what he needed.
He cursed, then one of his hands thrust into her hair and fisted, tugging her head back. “Stop this. Stop it now, Rusty. Tell me you want to go home, that you don’t want this.”
His eyes were blazing, full of sensual promise. Jesus, he was magnificent, brutal, and on the verge of unleashing all that heat on her.
She should be afraid, should do as he asked. But she’d never been a coward, and despite her born-again-virgin status, she was no wilting flower with tender sensibilities to be protected.
She’d never wanted anything more than the man struggling for control in front of her.
“Reid…” She pressed her hips closer, and a low moan broke past her throat when she felt his massive erection against her belly. Leaning in, she kissed the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “I want this more than I’ve wanted anything. I’m so wet for you. God, my panties are soaked.”
He snarled like some kind of tormented beast. His arm, still around her, tightened in an unforgiving hold, and the hand in her hair tugged brutally moments before his mouth came down on hers. His tongue invaded, thrusting against hers in a way that said whatever control he’d been hanging onto had snapped. Then she was off the floor, and they were moving.
He tore his mouth away. “Legs around me.”
She did as he said, then they were going upstairs. Reid shoved open the first door they came to and strode in. His mouth was on hers again, then her neck, sucking and nibbling her skin. He put her on her feet and yanked his shirt over his head, exposing the wide, defined expanse of his chest. The ink covering his skin was magnificent. A tribal design wound up one side, over his ribs and pec, thick swirls continuing over his shoulder to join the ink on his neck. The other side was a serpent of some kind that covered his arm and curled over his other shoulder to his back.
Jesus. The man was sex on a stick, and she wanted to lick every inch.
The fine dusting of dark chest hair that narrowed into a very happy trail—bisecting his abs and disappearing below the waistband of his jeans—looked pretty damn good as well.
She licked her lips. Yum.
Then he was on her again, lifting her off the floor to deposit her on the bed. “You ready for this? You ready for what I’m gonna do to you?”
“Yes.” So damn ready she thought she’d explode if he didn’t touch her where she ached for him.
He crawled up over her. “Lift up.” He tugged her shirt over her head, hands immediately going to the fastening of her bra. In seconds it was gone, and her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze. He licked his lips. “Fuck, you have incredible tits. Just like I knew you would.” His hands cupped her flesh, testing their weight. “I’m gonna fuck these spectacular tits sometime soon, mark them, come all over them.”
His voice was rough, low, nothing but gravel, and she felt it like a caress between her thighs. She sucked in a breath. She was no prude, but she hadn’t exactly been in many situations where a man could speak to her that way, and damn, it turned her on, had her squirming beneath him. “Reid, please.”
“You like that idea, Foxy? Like the idea of watching me slide my cock between your tits, blowing all over this smooth, golden skin?” He trailed rough fingers across her collarbone.
She couldn’t speak, could only nod.
He chuckled, dark and low, as he toyed with a nipple, pinching and tugging gently. “Did you play with them, when you got yourself off thinking about me?”
She stared up at him, arching into his hand, wanting more, overwhelmed by him, his words. The effect he had over her body was nothing she’d experienced before, the control he took, control that she was happy to give. He tugged a little harder, and she bit her lip.
“Answer me,” he said in a husky whisper.
The sound of his needy voice sent another rush of liquid heat between her thighs. “Yes.”
He licked his lips. “I like that, baby.”
He bent his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth, tormenting it with his tongue and teeth, while his hands squeezed and massaged. His whiskers abraded her skin, the crisp hairs on his chest tickling her belly. One of his hands held her breast in a tight grip, sucking and teasing, while the other moved down over her stomach and got to work on her jeans.
God, she was on fire.
When he got them undone, he gave her one last deep suck and flick of his tongue, then sat back and shucked her pants down her legs. His hands moved up to the sides of her panties, and he tugged them off as well, throwing them to the floor. When he turned back, he took her in, gaze lingering over her breasts, her belly, between her thighs. And that’s where it stayed.
“Christ, you have a body made for sin. A body made to be fucked hard.” He reached down and cupped the massive bulge at the front of his jeans. “Spread, Foxy. Show me that sweet spot.”
She was trembling now, with nerves, with want. This was a side to Reid she had never seen. He was sexually aggressive, lost to the lust, to the need his body cried for. She loved it, loved that she had that effect on him. She didn’t want him to treat her like a scared virgin, like she might break any second. Drawing her knees up, she let them fall open, giving him what he wanted.
He hissed, then his hands moved to her inner thighs, holding her open. “I’m gonna eat you now, taste you, and after I make you come, I’m gonna fuck you.”
With that warning—or promise, she wasn’t sure what he was going for—his head disappeared between her thighs, and he did exactly what he said he would.
He worked his tongue between her slit, tasting her, sliding the tip to her opening, circling, teasing, making her muscles clench in anticipation. He repeated the action, torturing her some more before he finally pushed in. She cried out, and his hands gripped her ass tight, tight enough she knew she’d have bruises in the morning.
It felt exquisite.
Her hand went to the back of his head, sliding through his hair, holding him there as he worked her expertly.
He gave her several long licks, and she squirmed against the mattress. She was impossibly wet and swollen and aching, and all she could do was thrash about beneath him, begging and moaning for him to make her come. Then on the next deep lick, he stopped and focused that clever tongue on her clit, alternating betwe
en tormenting licks and strong sucks of her needy flesh. Her body clenched, and a rush of liquid slid down between her ass cheeks. He growled his approval, then gave her clit one last hard suck and she screamed, coming apart against his mouth.
She lay there for several minutes, trying to get her body under some sort of control. Reid kissed, then nipped her inner thigh and climbed off the bed. When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, he was there beside her, jeans and underwear gone.
She drank in the sight of him in all his naked deliciousness, gaze dropping to his big, hard cock jutting from his body, veins bulging down the shaft. He was staring down at her, eyes glittering dangerously, as he rolled on a condom.
“You ready?” he asked.
She lay there, gaze fixed on that magnificent cock, her muscles still fluttering with the aftershocks of his remarkable oral skills, and struggled to draw breath.
“Rusty. You ready?”
Licking her lips, she nodded. It was all she could do. Her ability to form coherent sentences, hell, even a yes or no seemed to have deserted her. Not that she’d ever say no.
He climbed onto the bed, filling the space between her thighs with his large body, then the head of his cock was at her entrance, and his face loomed above her. Their eyes locked as he started to push forward, stretching her, filling her. He shook as he slid deeper, beads of sweat on his forehead slicking his skin. Her mouth dropped open as he pushed in another inch, pleasure pain burning her tender flesh.
“Good?” He grunted, his battle for control written all over his hard face.
She dug her fingers into his back, feeling the thick slabs of muscle tighten under her hands. She nodded, and he pushed inside her the rest of the way.
He hissed. “Fuck, baby. So wet, so fucking tight.” Then he drew out and slid home in one smooth movement, as if he had no control over the action. They both groaned.
Tightening her legs around his hips, she clung to him as he began to move, thrusting into her, hard and demanding. His expression could only be described as brutal, focused as he began to pound deep. Every muscle bunched tight, his chest pumping, harsh breaths puffing past his lips.
Revved (Axle Alley Vipers) Page 10
