Sacrifice For Love

by Vicki Green

  Another long day of lifting, hammering, and screwing, and not the kind of screwing I’m longing for. I’m sweaty, dirty, and tired by the time I get on my motorcycle to go home. After mid-morning, this new guy, Caylan, tells Kane he has to leave and I watch Kane just nod. What the hell was that? Sheesh, if I ask to take off early, he throws a fit. Something’s up. I can feel it. Now if I can just find out what it is.

  The breeze invades me, cooling me off a bit as I drive home. Home. It really is a home now. It smells like her when I walk in. All perfume and Taren. But the darkness of the apartment changes my feelings of excitement to worry in a heartbeat. We’d worked a little later than usual, with having one man gone. I try to keep that anger at bay as I set my tool belt down inside the door. I look around and focus on all the candles around the living room, our old worn blanket laying out on the floor. Suddenly, the worry changes rapidly into longing and the ache in my filthy jeans escalates.

  I hear a noise and look at the doorway, leading into the hall, and see Taren standing there. Her arm lifted up high as her hand molds around the frame, her hip jetted out and her other hand grasping it. She wearing a t-shirt, cut off right underneath her ample breasts. My hands ache to hold them, feel their weight in my hands and squeeze them as my mouth captures one of her perk nipples that are pressing against the fabric. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she’s not wearing a bra. My cock presses instantly against my jeans, wanting to be released as my face lights up, my mouth turning into a smile. I look into her eyes, darkened with desire, and everything around me fades, the only thing that’s in focus is my girl.

  “It’s about time you got home,” she whispers, her chest lifting and falling with her heavy breathing.

  I walk quickly straight to her and start to put my arms around her but step back, her brows lower immediately, her face turns into sadness. “I’m filthy, Taren.”

  Her face softens and that desire fills her eyes again. “I wanna be filthy, Brock.” She breathes slowly. Fuck me. She takes my hand, hers so small compared to mine. As her fingers thread through mine, I follow her into our bedroom.

  She turns abruptly, releasing my hand, and pulls up on the hem of my dirty shirt. “So dirty,” she whispers as her eyes burn into mine.

  My heart accelerates as I allow her to bring my shirt up to my neck then I reach back and pull it over my head. Her eyes instantly move to my chest. My hardened cock straining against my jeans. She’s killing me here but I let her continue her lead, curious. Her eyes move back to mine, the blue darkened even more. She reaches out and I feel my belt being undone, then the button on my jeans opened and my breath hitches. Our eyes keep glued to each other’s as she pulls down the zipper, and I feel my length spring out. Her eyes move down and widen. Yes, I’m commando. Who needs boxers making you sweat even worse on a hot day?

  Her small hand grasps my cock, and I hiss from the feel of her touch. I tear my eyes from hers and look down, seeing how her small hand doesn’t fully wrap around my hardened length. I can feel it pulsating as she tightens her grip then strokes it hard all the way down then back up again. “Taren,” I growl, my voice coming out in a broken whisper. The smile on her face is sexy as hell, her hand leaving my cock cold as she pushes my jeans down the rest of the way. She only gets them halfway down my thighs when I place my hands over hers and help her remove them. I step out, pushing them aside with my foot as she leans up on her tiptoes and her luscious mouth presses hard against mine. My arms immediately move around her, my hand moving up underneath her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her back. My fingers reach up into her long hair, and my tongue dives into her sweet mouth. Her moan fills me, and my cock pushes against her.

  I can’t take it anymore and pull her into me as I walk backwards into the bathroom, bringing her with me. Our mouths don’t disconnect as I make quick work of removing her clothes. We break away long enough for me to get her shirt off her head then connect again quickly, frantically. I walk us over to the shower. My hand reaches for the knobs and turns them on as our kissing becomes more heated than the water spraying against my arm. I fumble, turning the knobs every which way, my eyes opening long enough to see what I’m doing. As the water adjusts to where it won’t scorch us, I bend and lift her into my arms. I step into the shower, losing my balance as my mouth presses harder against hers. Her back hits the tile and sounds of her gasp echoes in the small area from the impact. I tear my mouth from hers looking at her in concern, but I know she’s okay when she captures mine again in a hurried frenzy.

  “God, Taren,” I moan as I push inside her. Her legs are wrapped around my waist clenching me as her hips buck, making me go even deeper. “I love you,” I whisper into her ear then capture her mouth again. Our rhythm begins, and I’m amazed how she keeps up as hard and fast as I’m thrusting into her. It’s like a dam was broken, and I can’t seem to get close enough, to get deep enough inside her, feel her. It doesn’t take long when I feel her muscles squeeze my growing cock. She screams out my name, and I follow closely behind her. I stand here, wet from the water spraying on us but yet feeling sweaty from our activity. We both are breathing heavily, our chests hitting each other’s in our sated states. She slides down my body, and we make quick work of washing each other.

  Once clean, I lift her again, and she giggles as I walk out of the room, grabbing a couple of towels from the linen closet on our way past, then laying her beautiful body down on a towel on our bed, and hover over her. My mouth seizes one of her perk nipples, and I begin lavishing, sucking, and nipping as she wiggles beneath me. My cock already engorged again spurs me on. My hand moves across her smooth skin, down her flat stomach and onto the place I ache to touch. I cup her and her hips buck, pressing it harder against my hand. My thumb begins to circle her clit, pressing every so often, and she releases a guttural moan. I kiss across her peak and valley until I reach the other nipple. “Brock.” Another moan escapes, throaty yet soft. I push a finger inside her. Her walls slick and already soaking wet with need. I love how she’s so insatiable, so ready for me. Always. The feeling it gives me how my touch alone makes her this way, the way she looks at me, full of longing and want, how she wants me as much as I want her. “Plea…. Please,” she moans. Those blue eyes darkened and fill with desire for me. God, she makes my heart stop, my breathing hitch when I look into them.

  I push another finger inside, her heat and wetness making them glide in and out. Her hips buck hard, her body pushing against my hand. My cock is straining, throbbing to be where my fingers are. Not able to wait anymore, I hear her whimper as I pull my fingers out but quickly replace them with my aching cock. I moan loudly as I slide into her, bending down and kissing her hard. This time I make love to her slowly, passionately, full of all the love I feel for her. As our bodies become one, emotions overtake me. Memories of our past together flood my mind. Placing my hands on the sides of her face, I watch her come undone. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. My head tilts back as my release overwhelms me, my eyes closing with the pleasure. When I look back down as my body shudders, the look on her face is reverent. She reaches up, her hand soft against my stubble, her thumb rubbing over my jaw. Such love in her eyes as her finger rubs underneath my eye, and I feel wetness fall from it. I’m taken aback as I feel the tear leave me, not realizing I’d been crying.

  “Baby,” she whispers as I lean down and nuzzle my face into the damp skin of her neck. Her arms move around me and tighten their hold. I’ve never been more comfortable, more loved than I am in this moment. I never want to leave her embrace, feeling her heartbeat against my chest. But her stomach growls and that’s my cue.

  * * * *

  “So what’s with this new guy?” She brings the chopsticks in her fingers full of food to my mouth. I snatch it, of course, and smile as I chew.

  I fill my chopsticks and bring them up to her full lips. She smiles and I watch them wrap around the sticks. Lucky sticks. “What new guy?” My brows lower as I sit back up. “Wait! How’d you know about t
he new guy?”

  She chews and swallows then picks up her glass of wine and takes a drink. “He showed up at the mall today, started following Irish and me around. Didn’t know who he was until Irish tackled him well then he kinda tackled both of us.” She starts biting her fingernail as anger wells inside me. Why in the fuck would he be following them and who the hell does he think he is tackling my girl? Just the thought of him touching her makes me want to hunt him down and tell him how much he should never, ever, lay a hand on my love. My face must show her just how angry I’m becoming ‘cos she starts looking worried. “Hey,” she whispers as she places her hand on my face. “Nothing happened. Come to find out, Dean hired him to follow us, protect us.”

  My face now scrunches in confusion. “But Kane hired him as a construction worker. What the hell is going on?” She startles as I jump up, half jogging to get my cell phone from the bedroom, where it dropped on the floor along with my jeans earlier. I pick it up and find the number as she comes sliding in on the wood floor only in her socks and one of my t-shirts. I don’t give him a chance to speak as I hear the call go through. “Over here. NOW! And bring that…. THAT, Caylan guy with you!” I hang up and look at her. “You might want to get some clothes on.” Her eyes widen, like a deer in the headlights look, and she takes off scrambling to get her clothes on. I’d laugh, but I want to hold onto my anger. I’ll need it when Kane and that asshole gets here.

  I barely get my shirt over my head when banging sounds on the front door. I glare at Taren when she starts to walk, stopping her in her place. I walk heavily to the door, open it and stand aside as Kane and Caylan walk in. I slam the door, a little more forcefully than intended, and when I turn around, Kane’s right up in my face, his finger poking me in my chest. “What the fuck, little brother. I don’t appreciate being called up, yelled at, and then hung up on. What the hell’s gotten into you?” His face is beet red, and his finger starts pushing harder.

  My anger swells. I move my arm under his and push his away from me then get up into his face. “Why in the hell didn’t you tell me this guy….” My arm stretches out, pointing my finger at Caylan. “Was following my girl? Why am I the fucking last to know? And he scared the shit outta her at the mall!”

  He starts to push up against me with his bulky chest until Taren slides between us and places a hand on both of our chests. Her hair sweeps out around her as her head turns back and forth at us. “Stop it! Both of you!” We both take a step back, our anger still consuming us. “Pick your battles, guys. He’s not the bad guy,” she says pointing at Caylan. “Yes, it would have been nice to know he would be around but shit, it’s not the end of the world. I, for one, am glad to have someone who’s trained to protect me. No offense.” She looks at Kane then at me. Her face softens as well as her voice. “I love you guys and always feel safe when you’re around but you can’t always be around.” Both Kane and I look at each other. “You guys are brothers. Stop acting like you hate each other.” She looks back at Caylan. “And you should have been honest with us.” Then she looks at me. “He was only doing what he thought would help protect me.” The tension in the room dies a little.

  All heads turn when Irish walks in the door. I have no idea how long she’d been standing there. “Yeah. You should have told us. I almost kicked his ass.”

  Caylan’s head lowers, his hand covering his chuckles as Taren bursts out laughing. “Not the way I heard it,” I say laughing myself. Kane just looks confused not knowing the whole story yet. I walk around Taren and put my arm around his shoulder. “C’mon, big brother. I’ll tell ya all about it.” I lead him into the kitchen as Irish hands out beers from our fridge. I notice Caylan doesn’t take one. Strange dude.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Taren

  The evening changed from anger and tension to one of laughter and lots of talking in a heartbeat. Thank goodness. However, I can understand Brock’s concern. I have to admit, I was a little shaken up at the mall until Caylan told us he was there to protect us. Guess his plan of being hidden didn’t work too well with Irish there. As usual, she was badass. Even she would have to admit, which she won’t, that Caylan is a little bit too large for her to take. I had to keep my snicker to myself when she left tonight, mumbling how she needed to increase her workout routine. I noticed Caylan overheard her though and had to snap his mouth shut. He’s a quick learner, I’ll give him that. I also noticed how much Irish kept sneaking looks at him, the entire evening. I would have called her out on it but there are too many around. Although, she caught my questioning eyes more than once. I wish she could find someone, or someone would find her. I still wonder about her being alone all these years, never hearing of even one date, and why she would wait for Kane knowing how he’s always been.

  Brock and I have a lazy evening the rest of the night, snuggling on the couch and watching a movie. It’s like he couldn’t quit holding me, kissing the side of my head, my face, and keeping my hand in his. I think after everything today he’s even more concerned. I know I am especially after texting Jeffrey over a dozen times and hearing nothing back from him. I have a bad feeling.

  The next morning I awaken to more snuggling with my love and hate when he finally tells me he needs to take a shower and leave for work. I decided that yesterday was just too much, so I’m staying inside today, not even chancing going out on our deck to sun bathe. I hate that I feel trapped in my own home. About mid-morning, Irish called and said she’d be over soon, telling me I needed company. Secretly, I think she wants to girl talk. At least I hope she does. I’m dying to know if my suspicions are right.

  “So, I worked out hard last night and guess who’s a new personal trainer at the gym?” she says while getting out the tub of left over spaghetti from the fridge. My brow raises in question. She plops a big spoonful on a plate and zaps it in the microwave then turns around, crossing her arms over her chest, which only pushed her girls up. Hard not to notice when she’s wearing one of those workout half tops, her flat stomach and belly piercing being displayed. Seriously, I don’t know how she eats like she does and still has that great figure. “Caylan.” Go figure.

  “Oh, really? Hmmm,” I say watching her grab the plate, a fork, and start shoveling the food in her mouth. Shoveling. Not daintily. Not one fork full at a time. Shoveling. “Hungry?”

  Her eyes move up to mine. “No. Not really.” She continues to shovel and I sit back in my chair, picking up my cup and taking a heavenly drink of my coffee. “Anyway,” she says, coming up for air. “So, I walk into the gym last night, get changed and then after working out for about forty-five minutes, sweat covering me, my hair pulled back and damp with that same sweat, and I’m dying by that point. I mean, I looked like shit. Well, I don’t hear him from having my iPod buds in my ears, and I look up and see him standing in front of the treadmill, looking all…. His big arms crossing over that massive…. Yeah, well.” Huh?

  “What the hell, Irish. Can you slow down and speak English, please?” I have to stifle my laugh. I’ve never seen her so flustered before. It’s actually kinda cute, like a normal woman would do. But Irish is anything but “normal”. She’s the toughest woman I know, hard core, brutally honest, but a hard worker. She’s feminine yet strong and not just muscles but strong willed too. That’s why I love her.

  “Well, he just gets on my last nerve. That’s all.” She shrugs and dishes out more spaghetti from the tub onto her now empty plate and puts it in the microwave, slamming the door. Okay, that’s not what I got outta that garblish chatter, at all. Garblish. That’s a word, right?

  “Irish. I don’t think he gets on your nerves. I think he gets on your….”

  Her head whips around, kinda like that girl in that movie The Exorcist, or maybe it was like that girl in Carrie? Anyway, really fast and kinda spooky. “What? Wait! You think I’m interested in him?” A loud laugh bursts from her mouth. “That I like him?” Another one and I purse my lips. I’m busting inside, wanting to walk over and shake her, tell her
to loosen up and take a chance.

  I take some deep breaths, trying to calm my inner self and place my hands in my lap, sitting up straight and posed. “Irish. There’s nothing wrong with “liking” a guy. I mean…. How will you ever know if there’s a connection or if he likes you too if you don’t take a chance? Who knows? Maybe he’ll end up being “Mr. Right” and you blow it by blowing him off. Well…. Uh…. You know what I mean.” Suddenly, my face heats and thoughts of how big his, you know, is compared to his arms. Oh, my! I have everything I want in a man. Why would I be thinking like that about another one? Because I’m a girl. We all think like that, right?

  She laughs. Not a burst of laughter. Not a snicker or giggle. But a full out, put your arms around your waist, bend over, your hair falling down over your head, kind of laugh. Okay, it wasn’t that funny. When she finally calms herself and stands back up, pushing her hair behind her, she gets the plate out of the microwave and starts shoveling food in her pie hole again. “Are you nesting or something?” Her brow raises. “Never mind. Point is, if you don’t allow yourself to actually form a relationship, get to know someone, you’ll forever be single.” Now her other brow raises. “Is that what you want? Seriously?”

  She sighs, heavily, and sets the plate of uneaten food, which isn’t much, in the sink. She grabs a cup and fills it with coffee then walks over and sits down across from me. “I dunno, Taren. I’m just really guy shy. I wasted so many years thinking that I wanted Kane, all the while knowing of his man whore ways and that he may never change, and now I’m not sure I want to try again.” She takes a drink and so I do too then she sets down her cup and sighs again. Her eyes look up and meet mine. She really is beautiful. “He’s okay looking and all.” Really? I saw her looking at him and know she feels way more than that. “I guess I’m afraid of being hurt. I don’t want to put all the effort into someone, again, and then find out they don’t feel that way about me or that they’re really the scum of the earth. Besides. You can’t just change your feelings, the ones you’ve had most of your life, to someone else. Doesn’t work that way. At least not for me.”