by JA Huss
“Why?”
She does. And it’s not a challenge—not the way she says it, anyway—but I feel challenged for some reason. I have a good answer though, so I let that feeling drop. “Because every major moment in your life was stolen from you. And you had that one moment left. By luck, or planning, or whatever, you still had it. And then I was the one who stole it from you.”
She drops her head back on the edge of the bed and looks up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Who cares? It’s just a moment, ya know?”
“But that’s all life is. Just one moment after another. Stacked on top of each other. A good friend explained it to me that way once. Stackable moments lead to things. Sometimes things you planned. But sometimes they lead to new things. Things you didn’t plan.” I stand up and put the guitar on the stand. And then I reach for her hand. And wait.
Her face is puzzled. She looks at my hand and then her eyes find the cut muscles of my waist and travel up my chest until they meet my eyes.
“Take it,” I say.
She does. But she swallows hard when her skin touches mine.
I pull her to her feet and wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her close. Inhaling her scent. Feeling her warmth. I lean down and kiss her neck. I can feel the prickles of hair rise up on her nape and the chill that runs through her body when I whisper in her ear. “Have you ever had the soft fuck, Sydney?”
Another hard swallow as she tilts her head up. Her throat is exposed, like an offering. “I don’t know,” she breathes. “I don’t think so.”
“Cowgirl, if you did, you’d know it.” And then I slip my hand under her shirt and caress my way up her ribs and kiss her mouth at the same time. She’s stiff at first, her lips tight against mine. “Want me to give you a sample?” I ask, pulling back.
“Why?” she asks softly. She’s not looking to say no. She’s looking for a reason to say yes. “Because you feel sorry for me?”
“Nah,” I say, still trying to get her to respond to my kiss. I bite her lip, not hard, just enough to make her pay attention to what I’m doing. “Because the way I took you, Syd, that was not my best performance. And I think I can do better.”
“Why do you want to?” She pulls away from me a little, unsure of my intentions. Hell, I’m not even sure of my intentions.
“I just want you.” I let her pull back a little more, but only so I can see her face. She’s scared. Out-of-her-mind scared. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open now, even though I couldn’t get it to open with the soft touch of my tongue not two seconds ago. “It’s not always rough, Sydney. Sometimes people fuck and they actually like each other.”
“Do you like me?” It’s such a soft whisper, I barely hear it.
“I’m not gonna kill you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I need to know why, though.” Her face scrunches up a little, like she’s having a hard time pulling herself together. I know I have her. I know if I just push a little more—squeeze her nipple in just the right way, press my hard cock against her stomach—she will give in. But if I’m gonna make up for the way I took her the other night, that’s not how this is gonna go.
I take my hand from under her shirt and pull her hair back away from her eyes again. She’s struggling right now. In all the ways I’ve seen her over the years, struggling with kindness has never been one of them. But that’s because she never had the opportunity. I tip her chin up and press my thumb into her bottom lip.
She whimpers and that little noise makes me even harder.
“You’re pretty. Garrett never told you that?”
She shakes her head.
“Well, he’s a dick. Your face is like an angel’s. And your hair, fuck.” I laugh a little and she takes a deep breath. “I’ve pictured you on top of me and that long, dark hair of yours dragging across my chest as you fuck me from the top so many times.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I swear to God, I did. You’ve got a hot fucking body too.” I place my palm on her ribs again, only this time I let it slide down, tracing the line of her waist and then the curve of her hip.
My hands go to her jeans and they are unbuttoned before she has a chance to protest. And then I lift her shirt up by the edges of the hem. Slowly. Looking down at her breasts as I do it. When the fabric releases her nipples I feel a little anticipation.
“I’d like to show you my best work, Sydney Channing. And make you forget your first time. Replace that night with this one. Nothing can be taken back. But you can replace the bad stuff with something else.” I shrug. “That’s all I got, sorry.”
She says nothing. So I lift her shirt over her head and drop it on the floor. “Take off your pants.” She bites her lip and I’m about to yank them down her legs at the sight of it. I control myself though and let her do it her way. She wiggles a few times, her hips moving back and forth, and we are so close this makes her rub against me in all the right ways. They finally drop to the floor and I take her hand as she steps out of them.
“You’re more than pretty, Syd. Your body is so much more than hot.” And it is. In this low golden light, with the backdrop of the windows on all sides, she is perfection. “I’ve always known it. I’ve always seen you in a sexual way. I’ve always wanted you.”
She looks like she might cry, so I put my finger to her lips and murmur, “Shhh. Just close your eyes and let yourself feel happy for a little bit. Forget the past. Forget tomorrow. Forget everything except right now.”
And then I push her, just a little bit, until she takes a step back and her knees hit the bed. She bends without me even asking and sits down. I straddle her knees, still standing, and guide her body back until she finally accepts what I’m offering and settles into the blankets and pillows.
“What are you gonna do?” she asks, her eyes closed.
“Make you come. Make you come so you’ll never want to run away from me again.”
I part her legs, exposing her pussy. It’s wet with anticipation. And even though we haven’t even started, her thighs tremble. I lean in, my breath as hot as my desire for this girl, and circle her opening with my tongue. She stiffens again, but when I flick it across her clit, she forgets everything and moans. Her hand reaches for me, finds my hair, and she pulls.
She pulls me closer. She pulls me inside her.
I add a finger, then two. She’s so tight, she bucks her back from the stretching. But I go slow. Like she deserves. I doubt this girl has ever had a slow fuck in her life and it thrills me to be her first. I already ruined her the other night. I can’t take that back. Nothing can be taken back. But things can be made up for.
I make it up to her.
I lick and suck, and she begins to relax. Her mind, which must race with confusion every second of every day, slows down as my tongue takes its time giving her pleasure.
I can feel her muscles clenching, almost ready, and that’s when I stand up and unbutton my jeans. She’s breathing heavy as she looks at me, her eyes half-mast, her breasts taut and firm, ready for the moment I’ve promised.
“Please,” she says. “Don’t stop.”
“I have no intention of stopping.” I let my jeans fall to the floor, my cock hard and long, ready for her in an entirely different way than last time.
I lean over her and scoot her up to the top of the half-moon bed. My knees press down into the soft white comforter on either side of her hips and my mouth finds the soft skin of her stomach. I nip her with my teeth. Just a small nip. She gasps in some air as I drag my tongue up her body, stop to take another nip at her bunched up nipple, and then find her mouth. Her breath is warm and her lips are tender as I kiss her.
“Look at me, Sydney.” She obeys, but only for a moment. Her mouth tightens, like she might cry. “Shhh,” I whisper. “Don’t do that. Don’t feel sad right now. Please. Just forget everything and only think about how I make you feel.”
And then I ease down on top of her, my forearms on either side of her head.
>
I kiss her forehead and she lets out a sob. “I don’t know what to do,” she admits with shaky words. “I don’t know what you want or why you want it. I’m lost.”
“You’re not lost. You’re here with me, where you belong. And I want you to do whatever you want, Sydney. But don’t do it to please me. Do it because you want to please yourself. Do it because you enjoy it.”
I kiss her again and she opens her mouth this time, our tongues twist together, reaching for each other in a way only tongues can. It’s slow, and sensual, and erotic.
Perfect.
My tip bumps up against her opening and she almost bites my lip with surprise. “Shhh,” I say again. “We’re gonna go slow this time.”
I ease into her, just a little bit. She gasps with pain, so I hold still for a moment, letting her get used to my size. When she relaxes I push in a little farther, and this time she accepts it. She opens her legs wider. Her hands stop clawing my shoulders and drag down my biceps. I’m the one who moans now.
This girl, man. She can make me moan with a touch. I push inside her farther and she presses against me, urging me to begin.
But I don’t. This is the slow fuck. This is the sweet fuck. So I don’t pound her hard. I love her deep. I kiss her mouth and slip one hand under her ass, cupping her cheek in my palm. The other hand plays with her hair.
Our hips move in unison. Slowly and with one purpose in mind. To feel each other. She comes first, a slow wave of contractions that clench against my cock, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to come inside her as she does.
When she stills, I push deeper, making her arch her back. I reach up and palm her throat, gently so it doesn’t scare her. I don’t want her thinking of anything but me. And when her eyes finally open and meet mine, I pull out and explode on her stomach.
We lie there in each other’s arms for a long time, until the smell of the roasting meat from down below wafts into my mind and wakes me out of my half-sleep. I empty a pillow out of a case and wipe down her stomach, wondering if I can get her in the shower later. And then I toss it aside.
“I don’t know what to say,” she says, when I finish. “Maybe, thank you.”
I pull her up off the bed and she watches me dress. I lean over and grab her shirt, then tug it over her head. She sighs as her body is once again covered. But I don’t think it’s with relief. I think it’s with regret. Not for letting me fuck her like that. But because we have to stop.
I smile as I hold open her jeans and she grabs my shoulder for support as she steps into them. And then I button her pants up and take her hand.
“Let’s not say anything right now. Let’s just eat.”
Chapter Thirty-Two - Sydney
“Never forget that you are vulnerable—even when you feel invincible.” – Sydney
We walk downstairs hand in hand. I have no idea what’s happening, but I don’t care at the moment. What he just did… what he just made me feel… I had no idea sex could be like that. I have never felt the tender touch he used on me tonight. I have only had it angry and hard. No soft words telling me I’m pretty. No slow movement, no thoughts about me at all. Garrett took me. That’s about how I’d describe what we did in the dark. He never asked. He never even made me come. Never even asked me if I did.
But Case… how can this man be so soft with me?
It’s confusing. And all kinds of doubts creep in.
He’s using you, Syd.
I’m not even sure whose voice that is. Is it me? Is it Garrett? Is it the imaginary man in my head? I’d go with option three if it weren’t for one thing. That man was always Case.
And I’m not crazy. They think I am, but I’m not. I’ve just been in the dark too long. Lied to too much. Betrayed over and over again.
Even Brett. I don’t know what that relationship was. Business? I’m not sure. He was always interested in the bar. But he was… friendly. Not like Case. Brett never offered me a soft fuck. I said I was a virgin and he assumed I wanted to wait until our wedding night. I’ve been dating him for over a year and not once did he ever push me.
How does a man control himself for that long? If he wanted me, wouldn’t those urges get to him? Wouldn’t he at least start a conversation?
He did other things—with his fingers. He did make me come. Not always. And I made him come. I gave him oral sex.
I’m so confused.
When we get to the kitchen I take a seat at the bar and even that feels weird. I always served Garrett. Even Brett liked me to wait on him.
But Case, he doesn’t seem to mind cooking for me. Or cleaning up.
That’s because he’s using you, Syd. He wants the answers he knows you have.
I do have some. I’ve lied about a few things since he took me. But I was his captive. Why should I be expected to tell him the truth?
“What are you thinking about?” Case asks as he puts a plate of meat and vegetables in front of me.
I let out a long breath and decide to be honest as he sits down in the stool next to me. “I need to know what you want.” I look down at my bowl of food, my hair falling forward.
And he does that thing again where he pulls my hair aside to see my face. I look up a little, just enough to catch a grin when he pulls away. “I want you to eat. And then I’d like to take you to the shower and wash you up. And put you to sleep in my bed wearing my clothes.” He shrugs when I scrunch up my face. “I don’t have any more clothes for you. So…”
I clear my throat to give me the courage to continue. “But what will you want tomorrow?”
“I left today, you might’ve noticed.” I nod. “And I have something to show you tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“What is it?” I can’t help my curiosity.
“A surprise.” And then he starts eating.
And I do too. I let it all drop away for now. I’m OK. I’m not drugged. I’m not in any danger, I don’t think. He’s being nice. He’s handsome in so many ways. I mean, I’ve dreamed about this man since he left me out there in the wild. I’ve felt every emotion for him over the course of time.
I’ve cursed him for leaving. I’ve begged him silently to come back. I’ve loved him, hated him, wanted him, and forgiven him so many, many times over. I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime with this man. And yet I had no idea he could be so…
“Sydney?”
I look at him.
“You done?”
I look down at my plate and see that it’s empty.
“You want more?”
I nod and he makes to get up. But I catch his arm, making him stop. “Not food, Case. I want more… of…”
“Me?” he asks, grinning like a man who knows he’s desirable.
“Yeah,” I manage to squeak out. “More of that.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’m afraid,” I whisper. “It’s not real. I don’t think it’s real. How can life be so… easy?”
He leans over and cups my face in one hand. His lips touch mine. “You know what makes it easy, Syd?” He waits for me to shake out a no. “Doing the right thing for yourself makes it easy. When you’re fighting with yourself, that’s when thing gets hard. When you have to talk yourself into being someone else to survive, that’s hard. But when you can let all that go and just relax, just act honestly—that’s how you make life easy.”
“How do you know that? How did you get so smart?”
“I’m a genius. And I’m ten years older than you. I’ve seen more. Lived more. Done more. You pick this shit up by experiencing it.”
“But you’re a…”
“Killer.”
He says it so easily. Like it’s his true self and he owns it. And that’s part of my problem. He’s dangerous in so many ways. He wanted to kill me last week. He tied me up, drugged me, hit me. “Does it bother you? Being a killer?”
“No. It’s just what I do.”
I lean forward and put my head in my hands. The b
andaged one is warm, but the other one is cool and it feels good on my face.
“But you know what else I do?”
I shake my head no, not sure I want to hear it.
“I’m a decent kisser.” I huff out a breath and make my hair fly up in my face. “I can love you soft or hard. I can give you advice. I can be a good friend. Hell, I can even be a good father. I’m not Sasha’s father, but it’s good practice.”
I look up at him now.
“To learn how to take care of people. I take care of her. She doesn’t need money, she has more than enough. She doesn’t need a best friend. She has those, too, I’m sure. But she calls me, Sydney. When she has something to talk about. I’m the guy she tells her problems to. I’m the guy she calls when she needs advice. So yeah. I kill people. But I am so much more than a killer. It’s complicated. I get that. But what I do is not complicated. What I do is simple. I survive and I make sure everyone I care for survives too.”
“Do you care for me?”
He puts his fingertips to my lips. “Not tonight. We’re not gonna have that conversation tonight.”
“I think I need to go.”
“Tomorrow, Sydney. After I show you what I did today, tomorrow you can go. But right now we’re gonna go upstairs, take a shower, and go to bed.”
I take a moment. And in truth I need so much more than a moment to gather all this shit up in my head and make sense of it. But I don’t have more time. And I don’t have any answers, either. I have nothing.
Nothing but this man.
So that’s what we do.
He leads me by the hand again. We retrace our steps up to the second floor and take a shower together in the master bath. He shampoos my hair and talks about his life. His first hit was a gangster in Boston when he was seventeen. He tells me how he had an appointment with MIT the next weekend and met his best friend. He talks about lots of other jobs too. Girls even. The two girls Garrett killed. Case explains that he dated them, had regrets for getting them involved in his life and set them up in Mexico to try and forget about what that might mean. The fact that Garrett killed them bothers him, but not much. He talks and talks and talks. Most of the stuff is nothing I want to know. But he tells me anyway.
