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Waking the Lion

Page 15

by Lacee Hightower


  My heart pounds at this deep animalistic passion between us.

  “Rhett. No. Please.” I’m so sensitive to his touch that I’m struggling to make him stop.

  “Yes, Kass.” His chest echoes with a low, primal sound, and he pushes his tongue in deeper, my body convulsing at his demanding frantic movements. He reaches for my clit and pinches hard. Tears now flowing, I shatter to pieces, losing control as long waves of a second climax rip through me, my body quivering until I’m limp and unsteady. “Rhett” falls from my lips again and again.

  His face is still buried between my legs, and my heart is racing, tears in my eyes. “That was so damn beautiful, Kass.” His tone is smooth and sensual, and I feel it deep in my core.

  In my heart.

  He rises from his knees, reaching for my legs and sweeping me into his arms. His mouth is glistening with my pleasure, and I swallow past the lump lodged deep in my throat and place a hand over the firm muscle of his chest, positive I have everything to lose. Knowing in my gut I need to slow this relationship down before I’m shattered so deeply that I can’t be put back together. I can feel his heart pounding as he places me in the center of his bed.

  Their bed.

  Dear God, as much as I know his heart has been ripped in two and he’s still fighting the tragic loss of a wife, I want him. Deep inside me. Taking me. Controlling me. Owning every part of me. Loving me in the only way he can. Through mindless sex.

  Two seconds flat and he’s undressed, his phenomenal hard body on top of me while he kisses my neck and his pulse thunders against me. With every bit of my self-control gone, my sex once again tenses with greedy need as he pushes inside me.

  “I can’t stay away from you, baby. God knows I’ve tried.” He kisses me gently, his lips, which have the faint taste of me, lingering against mine as he stares down at me with dark sincere eyes that look like he feels the same as I do.

  More mixed messages. More confusion.

  In seconds I’m lifting my body against his, meeting every slow, sensual thrust as he makes delicious, non-controlling, passionate love to me, the picture of his wife only inches from my vision. More hoists of my hips and I’m the one who’s suddenly grabbing his ass, pulling him against me, this never-ending desire for closeness tugging hard at my heart.

  His hands slide between my ass cheeks, a finger teasing the private spot he hasn’t tried taking yet. The sensation is incredible, and I moan, his returned animal-like sound of pleasure driving me to a dangerous edge. I quickly pull away from him and roll onto my belly. Ready for more, I want him to have my complete body. My soul.

  “I love you, Rhett,” I whisper against the pillow. Oh God. Why did I say that? He doesn’t love me.

  “God, baby,” he says in his deep grumble that makes me tremble from the inside out. He swallows and reaches beside his bed for something in a drawer.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he says in a scratchy tone, kneeling between my legs and covering his thick shaft with lube before sliding his moistened fingertips around my puckered virginal hole and sending a whole new whirling flood of pleasure through me.

  “This makes you mine, Kass.” His voice is sensual and full of carnal desire. “Only mine, baby.”

  “I already am,” I whisper, pleasure shivering through me in waves.

  His strong body eases gently behind me, and I drop my head deeper into the pillow as I feel him prompt me open and slowly push right past the uncomfortable muscle. The sensitivity sucks the air from me, yet I push back against him. He leans over, blowing warm breaths against my neck and giving me small groans of satisfaction each time he cautiously slides in another hard, thick inch, until finally he’s inside me all the way and his hips brush my backside.

  “Mine, Kass,” he growls, slipping his tongue deep inside my ear. I extend my hands to grip the sheets, only to feel his fingers lacing through mine.

  “Mine,” he repeats. “Say it, Kass.”

  His body moves a little deeper with each heavy thrust, his lips never leaving my neck. My body is on fire inside, but my feelings for him overtake any sense of discomfort.

  “Yours, Rhett. Only yours.”

  “Jesus, I … love you,” he whispers against my ear before dragging his tongue over the nape of my neck, owning me just a little more with every pulsing, deep thrust.

  He loves me. In seconds, I’m entirely relaxed against him, the initial discomfort subsided and nothing now but complete undivided pleasure. I’m meeting every push, our fingers curled tightly together at my sides. His intimate grip on my hands strengthens, along with his quickening pace and wavering breaths. Deep inside me, I know he’s close.

  “Christ. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His voice is scratchy with need as he moves faster, charging into me. He releases one of my hands and reaches for my clit, stroking his thumb hard over the small, swollen nub.

  “Come for me, baby.” His breath deepens as his thick shaft furiously tunnels inside me. Each push seems harder and deeper, raising a moan up my chest and a more desperate hold against his fingertips and the edge of the sheet. He pinches my clit and I burst into climax, tears flying from my eyes as he buries his face into my neck and empties inside my most private place, taking the one thing I’ve never shared with anyone. God, I love him so much.

  He said he loved me.

  He said he’d never marry me.

  For the first time since I’ve learned Lindy existed, I have the smallest feel of confidence and positivity, instead of the opposite. Maybe my trust is too much, too soon, but tonight forged a link between us that is confusing and every bit as complicated. But it feels strong, and I’m confident.

  One way or another … we’ll make this work.

  “Jesus, I love you, woman,” he says after he rolls onto his back, while I turn onto my side. I reach up and trace the pronounced arch of his brow with my fingertips.

  “And I love you, too, Rhett.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rhett

  The lion’s triumph doesn’t always involve a roar.

  Months have passed since I walked out of the hospital for the last time. It seems like a lifetime since I left my past, saying goodbye to what I thought was my future. Since that dreadful day, so many things have happened. I’ve racked my brain for answers, a face, anything. I’ve had nightmares that fuck with my head and make no real sense. Felt guilt so damn intensely that I’ve considered ending my life dozens of times. I’ve also quit trying to deny myself, accepting the fact that I have true feelings for Kass. I’ve made love to her. Held her tight. Fucked her. Stood and simply stared at her beauty. Lastly, I’ve made a decision that professional help is what I need and quite possibly the only way I’ll ever have complete peace of mind.

  My hands fisted beside me, I sit outside, staring at the immortal hydrangea. The blooming flower that’s withstood weather, next to no water, piss, spit, and even vomit, when the best doctors in the country were unable to save a life, despite trying everything possible in today’s medical miracles. My eyes are glued to the fucking plant. Somehow, the damn thing has filled a void. Given me a strange peace of mind that I’ve desperately needed.

  My chest pounding, I go back to that night like I’ve done more times than I can count, trying to get a visual of one, or both faces. Again, and again, I return to those last minutes. Two men approaching her from behind. The look on her face when the gunshot entered her neck. Her eyes. Her mouth. Every aspect of Lindy is crystal clear. But everything I need to remember is nothing but a jet-black blob of nothing. Except for flakes of gold. The goddamned flashes of color visualize over and over but mean absolutely nothing.

  I. Can’t. Fucking. Remember.

  And these monsters deserve to pay. I demand justice. I’ll never fully relax until they’re both locked in jail cells, enduring long, tortuous hours being someone’s ass-fucking toy, before being killed in the most violent way possible.

  It’s still early as I walk back into the kitchen, dressed in nothing but blac
k sweat bottoms. My brother sits at the kitchen table while the white cat that took a mere ten minutes to adapt to living indoors, sleeps peacefully at his feet.

  “Christ, Reese. Does it ever occur to you to actually knock before you come in? Or perhaps call?”

  His lips curl into a shit-eating grin. “You look like the proverbial cat that got the cream. Got something you’re trying to hide, little brother? Perhaps a little dark-haired something involving a hairdresser?”

  I stick a K-cup in the Keurig and brew myself a cup of strong dark roast and sit down across from Reese, who’s suddenly staring down at his cell phone with a scowl on his face.

  “What are you doing here so early? Don’t you ever work anymore?”

  Clicking off his phone, he returns it to his suit pocket. “I was working when you walked in, and I honestly came over here on business. Personal business. You have a few minutes?”

  My mind reels, not knowing where he’s going with this personal business issue. “Do I have a choice? Coffee before business?” With a small nod, Reese’s eyes narrow, and I return to the counter and stick in a second K-cup.

  “Baby, remind me to bring over a decent hair…” Kass stops speaking when she sees Reese. Her cheeks turn pink as she fumbles with her damp hair, blinking up at me shyly. I want to kiss the complete hell out of her cute ass but know she wouldn’t feel comfortable with that. “My brother stopped by on some kind of personal business, so he claims.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss on the lips, tasting a trace of peach.

  “Good morning, Kass. Very nice to see you again. You’re looking extremely beautiful as always.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Reese.” I lift Kass’s wrist and kiss it because I can’t keep from touching her. “Ignore my brother. He was just leaving.”

  “No. I need to be going anyway. I have back to back appointments until three.”

  “Hope to see you again soon, Kass.” My brother turns on his Canadian charm, flashing his grin that the ladies adore and standing as he says goodbye.

  When I’m back inside after walking Kass to her car, Reese lights into me almost immediately. The last thing I want to be reminded of right now with my mind still reeling on the unplanned curve my relationship with Kass has turned over the last hours, are my memory issues. Even so, it’s something I need to face.

  “I know a psychotherapist, Rhett. The thought crossed my mind when I woke up this morning. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Don’t know why you haven’t considered seeing someone. She might be able to help you with these dreams and fuzzy shit you haven’t been able to sort out. Maybe help you remember faces or something important, so you can move the fuck on with your life.”

  “You know a psychotherapist,” I mumble under my breath, knowing Reese is only trying to do what he always does—help me. And I know that. Justly. “You know this woman or you fuck this woman?” I ask, wondering if it really makes a difference.

  “Listen to me, Rhett. Let’s be serious about this. Let me give her a call. This is what she does for a living. There’s no goddamn crime in getting help. These dreams are eating you alive, man. It’s time to try something different so you can move on. And, I know you. You never will shake this unless you do everything in your power to get to the bottom of this shit show. This isn’t fucking Fantasy Island, dude. This is reality, and you’re getting nowhere this way.”

  Reese’s words strike a nerve. Why can’t I just fucking remember?

  “Understood,” I say, “but you really think I need therapy?” My question comes out laced in sarcasm, even though I’ve thought about this for months. “What the fuck do you think a head doctor can do for me?”

  Reese responds as quickly as the words leave my mouth.

  “Hypnotism.”

  What the complete fuck!

  I let out a gut-filled laugh. “You’re fucking kidding, right? You think your shrink fuck-toy can put me under her spell and I’ll just up and suddenly know everything? Chirp like a canary and remember all the shit I’ve spent hours and hours trying to remember for over a damn year?”

  Picture after picture of criminals, they’ve all looked the same—unrecognizable.

  A bright red toboggan. Both thin in stature. Both young. What I remember sounding like a slight English accent.

  That’s all I can remember. Nothing of real significance.

  “Yes, Rhett. I think there’s a good possibility Kristin may be able to help you. She’s very good at what she does.”

  “I have no doubt she’s good.” With a small head shake, I look at a frustrated Reese. “Just because she gives good head doesn’t mean she can pull this shit that’s hidden somewhere in my fucking brain, Reese.”

  “Son of a bitch, Rhett! The motherfuckers killed your wife. Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to try every possible means of remembering some of this shit? More specifically, don’t you think you owe it to Lindy?”

  “Fuck you, Reese!” My chest is pounding. All this still doesn’t seem real. Yet, it’s absolutely bona fide fact.

  Was it something I said?

  Something I did?

  “You’re right, Rhett. You probably don’t need a shrink. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

  My elbows drop into my thighs, and I hang my head low, sliding my fingers through the sides of my hair. My brother, who I’ve respected and considered a hero my entire life, is offering to make a phone call. Giving me advice like he’s done since I can remember. Doing what he can to help me move on, while I sit here with my shitty attitude, talking to him like he’s nothing but a dumbass when I’m the one that’s being fucking ludicrous.

  “Fuck. Make it happen. Call her.”

  “You sure, man?”

  I release my tight fists and unclench my jaw. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  Reese raises his head with a nod, neither of us saying another word about the situation.

  “So, tell me,” I ask. “Is this Kristin a recent fuck-buddy, or someone from the past?”

  Reese nods and grabs at his crotch. “The past, but by the likes of my growing boner just talking about her, I may have to reacquaint myself. The woman has exceptional fucking legs. Not to mention the fact she’s flexible as hell.”

  I laugh at the leg comment. It’s not the first time my brother has relayed his thoughts about being a leg man, but sitting in front of him knowing he has a growing dick doesn’t exactly bring on a warm fuzzy feeling and it’s actually the last thing I want to see. I reach for both our coffee cups and return them to the sink.

  “Now that we’ve covered what I came over here for,” Reese’s eyes narrow, “let’s hear about what’s happening between you and Kass.”

  My brother and I start talking like old times—before the shit storm. I give him more hell about sending her over to cut my hair of all fucking things and end up telling him I’m in love with this woman.

  An hour later, I thank him with a hug and start worrying again about the whole psychotherapist bullshit. Hypnotism? That’s crazy shit. The urge for a Vicodin is suddenly strong, my temper flaring. Why can’t I just remember? Something significant to give the detectives a lead? Why can’t I give her family the small sense of peace they desperately need? The closure we all need?

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Right now, I need more than the calm that Vicodin gives me. With too much shit rolling through my head, I need something way stronger. More powerful than any drug. That concept churns inside my head for a few short minutes.

  I know exactly what I need. And she’s only been gone for a little over an hour.

  Kass … I need Kassidy Johnson.

  Fighting a craving I haven’t hungered for on this level in many long months, the urge is so strong it’s almost extreme. I know damn well she’s busy, yet she picks up immediately when I’m expecting her voicemail.

  “Hi,” she whispers quietly. Just the sound of her voice through the luscious lips I know to be full and soft turns my body hard.

  �
��I need you, doll.”

  ****

  No questions asked, three hours later she’s back, changing her work schedule, which I selfishly asked her to do.

  The minute she walks through the door, I’m kissing her hard, then harder, sucking up a moan crawling up her throat. “A smart woman would probably turn around and leave right now.”

  Her breath shifts, her eyes widening. “Why? Why would I do that,” she counters, “when all I’ve done is think about you? Us. This.”

  My whole body is steel at the sound of her soft words. I take her hand and lead us to my bedroom. “I don’t ever want to scare you, and I’ll never hurt you,” I add, instantly wishing I hadn’t said that.

  “It’s never occurred to me that you would.”

  “Strip, Kass.”

  We’re both silent as she takes a step forward in front of me and removes her clothes without any argument or questions. I follow, dropping my sweats to my ankles. My dick hard and full, I take it between my hands, stroking.

  “Take me in your mouth.”

  Her eyes blink up at me before looking down at my hand moving up and down my cock. “Get on your knees, Kass.”

  Seconds tick by, but she drops down in front of me, easing my shaft between her hands. Nothing in her personality rings submissive and I’ll never force anything on her. But I goddamn need this.

  Easing her soft lips around my crown, she slides her tongue over the top and pulls me perfectly between her mouth. No judgment in what I’ve asked. No questions, she’s simply doing as I demanded. Putting my needs in front of her own. On her knees, her soft blue eyes staring straight through mine, she’s so beautiful. So damn sweet. There’s no denying my feelings. I’m so in love with this woman that my body aches for her. Her small, firm tits bounce every time she moves against me, and I’m rock hard, only seconds from my load leaving my balls. I reach for her head, guiding her up and down my dick the way I need.

 

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