by CLIFF, J. C.
Travis slowly skates his fingertips along the length of my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake, and then gently interlaces his fingers with mine. My belly dips in response to his light touch. I lift my chin to look at him with questioning eyes. He understands I want to whisper something to him, so he leans down and tilts his ear to my lips. “Is it all over now? Are all the bad guys gone?” He pulls away, and rests his head against the seat. A quick flash of remorse flits across his eyes before he closes his lids and softly sighs.
“No…not really, baby,” he whispers back. “But they can’t track us now. We’re one up on them.” I lay my head back down against his broad chest, and I simply want to cry. I’m so wrought with tension, and at the same time, I’m an emotional wreck. Will this never end? Am I going to have to live on the run for the rest of my life?
“Hey now.” He lets go of my hand, his forefingers lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Don’t overthink it. We’re sitting pretty right now. They’re not going to be able to find us, and as long as I have anything to do it, that will be the case forever.”
Forever? “Forever is a long time, Travis. Just what is that supposed to entail?” I whisper back nervously. I have a feeling I do not fully understand the implications or magnitude of his statement.
He shakes his head and whispers in my ear, “Right now is not the time to discuss this.”
I bite my lip in nervous frustration. I’m sure if we did talk about it now in front of his men, the conversation could only escalate into a major blowout, because let’s face it—I can have an attitude sometimes. I have a feeling he placated me at the hotel, telling me that eventually I could call home, but somehow I don’t see that coming to fruition anytime soon, if ever. Another lie perhaps? My thoughts are completely scattered, running from one dilemma to the next, and I can’t seem to focus on any one problem at a time.
“Shh, baby,” he soothingly whispers. He tries to console me by pressing my ear back over his heartbeat as he holds my head firmly against him. He begins to rock me methodically back and forth while keeping his soft lips pressed to the top of my head, whispering over me, “Shh, I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to be all right.”
I want to believe Travis so badly. I want to trust that everything is going to be all right. My gut instinct just knows that everything is anything but all right. The stresses of the previous two days have caught up to me, and all too soon, his rocking, tender ministrations, and the steady thrum of the van’s engine has my eyes growing heavy. I’m sure with everything I’ve been through my body is shifting into self-preservation mode. I let my eyes flutter closed and slip into a dreamless sleep in the arms of a man I don’t know if he’s a good-bad guy, or a bad-bad guy.
“Wake up, baby…” I vaguely hear the words whispered over me. His warm breath fans across my ear as I hear his soothing voice speak again. “Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.” I don’t want to wake up. I grumble unintelligible words as I ignore him and roll to my side, away from him as I pull the covers tightly around my body. He chuckles softly against my cheek before placing a light kiss there.
“C’mon, sleepyhead,” he playfully whispers as he nudges me. He’s making me grow grumpy. I don’t want to get up, so I swat at the air behind me, but miss my target as I will him to go away.
A deep chuckle ensues, and he tears the blanket off my body in one fell swoop. All the warmth and body heat I had going on dissipates immediately. “Seriously?” I grumble irately.
His hand slips underneath my t-shirt as he places his palm on my bare skin below the crease of my breasts. I lose my breath. His touch sends a scorching fire directly to my core.
“It’s time to get up, my sleeping beauty,” he huskily whispers just before he softly kisses the outer shell of my ear.
“I don’t wanna get up,” I whine, half asleep.
“Mmm, I know what will wake you,” he says as he softly and strategically places slow and passionate kisses down the length of my neck.
“You’re not playing fair,” I moan. I know Travis all too well; he’s going to win this one. He always wins. I give a yawn as I roll onto my back and stretch my body, placing my arms above my head while arching my back in a much-needed stretch. I know my hard nipples are protruding from the thin fabric of my t-shirt as I not-so-innocently stretch.
A low growl emits from the back of his throat, and I grin. “Talk about not playing fair.” He slips a hand underneath my shirt as he cups my breast. My heart beats double-time when his thumb softly brushes across the tip of my nipple. I freeze in my stretching position, allowing him free reign over my body, and close my eyes as I bask in his tender touch. God help me, I want him.
He captures both my wrists with his free hand, and my eyes flutter open. “Travis?”
“Shh, just let me touch you.” I know where he’s headed with this. I know he can never stop with just one touch, and the smoldering look he’s giving me is a dead giveaway. I lose my breath as he rolls my hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re wet for me already, aren’t you?” His deep, husky voice adds to my wetness.
I shift my eyes away from his, blushing, and I notice we’re not in a hotel room anymore. We’re in somebody’s bedroom. “Where are we?”
“We’re at Quinn’s house.”
“Oh? What time is it?” My brows lift as I wonder how long I’ve been asleep. I don’t remember anything. I thought I would’ve at least stirred awake with Travis having to carry me from the van. He lets out a soft sigh, removes his hand from underneath my shirt, and smooths it out before he leans over me to grab the mini alarm clock.
“It’s a little after six. Are you hungry?” he replies. I shrug, not really knowing what I am at the moment. Horny or hungry, either way, it’s a win-win.
“A few of the guys pitched in and cooked dinner for everyone.” I slant my head to the side, studying him a moment. His hair is damp, he’s in a fresh change of clothes, and he smells amazing. “C’mon, it’s been a long day, and I think you need to get up and eat a little something.”
Reluctantly, I sit up in bed, but apparently, I’m not moving fast enough for Travis, as he takes both my hands, pulls me out of bed, and into his arms. “You’ll feel better after you eat a decent dinner, and then you can take a shower.”
Travis has me holding his hand as we head downstairs. The loud, boisterous chatter of the other men’s voices carries throughout the house. They’re all laughing and carrying on in the kitchen, and for some reason, it relaxes me a little bit.
Someone speaks out over the voices, and says, “I don’t know about you guys, but I sure as hell could use a sweet place to park my dick right about now.”
“Well, Stryker, right there’s the freezer,” I hear Quinn respond as he begins to chuckle. “I’ve got a bag of frozen peas to park your dick on this time,” he says, and then breaks out in laughter.
I can’t help but crack a smile at whatever their inside joke is. Travis brings me to a halt in the hallway, pulling me into his side, and then whispers in my ear, “Shh, I wanna hear this one.”
As we stand out of sight, I hear another voice piping in, asking, “I don’t believe I’ve heard this story, Quinn. What crazy shit did Stryker do now?”
“Oh, my God, Chase. I never laughed so hard in my life!” Quinn exclaims.
“Quinn,” Stryker warns, but Quinn simply ignores him and continues on.
“So, we had this huge party about a month ago, and Stryker’s date of the week was a sexy lil’ señorita who decided to make a killer salsa with jalapeño peppers.”
“Oh, geez,” Stryker complains, “I give up.”
“After a couple hours, the party was in full swing, so nobody noticed Stryker had gone missing with his little Mexican beauty.” Quinn falsely clears his throat. “Thought he’d slink off for some private salsa dancing lessons.” Quinn has to get a few more chuckles out before he can speak with any clarity.
“I don’t think he was gone all that l
ong, though. Low music was going on in the background while everyone was enjoying their own conversations, and out of freaking nowhere I hear this God-awful man-scream. I never thought I could hear a man scream like a woman until that night.”
“Fuck off, dude,” Stryker says irritability as the others start to chuckle.
“Anyhow, he comes busting out of the downstairs bathroom with his pants down around his ankles, running down the hall like a penguin on crack. Oh, God, that was a sight watching him stumble over himself, bare in all his glory. He made a beeline for the freezer, hollerin’ out in a panic the entire time that his dick was on fire. The only thing he could find in the freezer to cool his cojones off was a carton of ice cream.” The funny thing is, as animated and hilarious as Stryker is, I can totally picture everything being described.
“By this time, he must’ve had the attention of about twenty people, who then decided to gather around his naked ass to watch the show. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the hell his deal was, and when he stuck his dick into the carton of ice cream, I damn near lost it.”
“Holy fuck, man!” Chase remarks as he bursts out with laughter.
“No, that wasn’t a 'holy fuck',” Stryker adds. “It was from the fiery pits of Hell. If I didn’t know any better, that woman had hot embers of coal in her mouth,” he jokes, but his voice is in serious distress from the graphic memory. All the men howl with laughter as Travis tries very hard to contain himself. His broad shoulders shake as he doubles over in a fit of silent laughter, grabbing his stomach. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle my giggles.
Then Quinn’s deep voice booms out over the laughter as his story continues, “Yeah, but that’s not all, because of the fact his dick was wet, it stuck to the ice cream. So then he had to hobble over to the kitchen sink, only to realize I didn’t have a retractable water faucet.” Quinn’s laugh becomes so raucous it’s almost hard to make out what he’s saying as each syllable comes out on a cackle, “So I have to put the poor bastard out of his misery by dousing him with my cold brew, and I swear to God, I have never seen a dick shrivel to the size of a prune before.”
“And, oh, God, was that sweet relief,” Stryker emphasizes. Travis can’t hold out any longer as he bursts out with laughter. His entire body shakes as he leans on my shoulders, steering me into the kitchen. Everyone’s in stitches, their laughter contagious, and for a brief moment, their banter makes me forget my problems.
Eventually, everyone’s laughter slowly dissolves one by one, and then Stryker notices me. He clears his throat, giving his chin a quick jerk in my direction, looking somewhat sheepish. “Hope you’re hungry. We have a ton of food, but you’ll have to fend for yourself here,” he says. “We’re not used to having a woman at the table.”
I meekly smile as Travis guides me by the small of my back toward the table and pulls out a chair for me. All the guys are looking at me in silence. I feel like I’m under a spotlight, and suddenly, I’m uncomfortable.
Chase speaks up, his voice laced with concern as he asks, “How are you feeling?”
I shrug as I softly respond, “I guess as good as can be expected, given the circumstances.”
Travis then pulls up a chair right beside me, settling himself before he grabs a large dish of baked chicken and dishes some out onto a plate for me. One by one, the men slowly begin to make small talk as everyone eats.
Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the scene as I sit around the kitchen table with a bunch of hardcore criminals. I don’t know if they’re all in the same business as Travis or not, but either way, whatever they do, it can’t be good. I mean, Quinn alone looks as if he could be the type of man who would handle someone else’s dirty jobs.
One thing is blatantly obvious, however, and that is these men have each other’s backs. They proved that today. How can these guys do what they did today and act so unaffected? I have a feeling I will be haunted for decades by these past two days. My appetite wanes as I think about those horrid, lifeless eyes staring right at me, and I shiver.
The tension in my muscles has loosened, after the long, hot shower I took, and I feel more refreshed. I slip on one of Travis’ t-shirts, which comes down to my knees, and notice he’s laid out a new toothbrush for me beside the sink. Thank goodness. I hate that feeling of fuzz on my teeth.
Once I’m all cleaned up, I step out of the master bath and onto the plush carpet in the bedroom. A laundry basket is sitting on top of the bed. Someone put this in here while I was showering, and just in time too. I need a clean pair of panties. I blush at the thought of one of those men handling my underwear. It’s funny how I used to have two closets full of clothing, and now I’m reduced to a couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts, and a sundress Quinn found hanging in his closet.
I reach in the basket, grab a shirt, and begin folding the few clothes I own, when the bedroom door opens. I look over my shoulder to see Travis slip into the room. He quietly shuts the door behind him, and then locks it. My heart begins to pound in my ears at the very sight of him, and as he walks toward me, I can feel the sexual tension rolling off him. No matter how much I want to deny this man, my body overrides my brain every time.
I turn back around and pretend to look busy by continuing to fold. The warmth of his body comes to press against my back, causing my breathing to turn shallow. His muscular arms slip around my waist as he pulls me in tighter, pressing his erection into the cheeks of my ass.
“Mmm…you smell so good,” he hums, and then flicks his tongue over my ear. He closes his lips over my lobe, sucking it into his mouth while his hot breath escapes into my ear. “What are you up to?” he murmurs, his ministrations making me shiver and my eyes flutter helplessly closed.
“Just folding some laundry,” I try to reply evenly, but fail miserably.
“Sounds as if we need to make some more dirty laundry,” he suggests, whispering over my sensitive skin as he kisses and nips his way down to my shoulder.
I swallow hard against my dry mouth, and whisper, “Travis, do you think maybe this isn’t a good idea right now?”
“What, making more dirty laundry?” he taunts. He’s doing such a good job of turning my body into a bowl of Jell-O. The man knows every underhanded trick in the book when it comes to working my body into submission.
As if they didn’t get the memo, my hands still try to function and stay on their mindless task of folding. Hot, open-mouthed kisses rain down on me like April showers, and I go tingly from head to toe. I’ve lost my dexterity, and sloppily crumple the t-shirt up in my hands.
He notices my dilemma and chuckles, his chest vibrating against my back with that deep sexy laugh, which makes me squeeze my legs together. His hands slide beneath my shirt, and he smoothly glides them underneath the swells of my breasts. Since I have no bra on, his fingertips hone right in on my erect nipples. He begins to gently tug and twist on my hard nubs. A little moan escapes my lips.
His heated desire has turned me inside out, and I drop my head back onto his shoulder, dizzy with lust. He’s not wearing any cologne, as usual, but he always emits this dangerous pheromone that makes me lose my sanity. No longer is he stirring a slow burn within me; I feel as if I’ve stepped into an incinerator. I’m burning up with need, consumed by his flames.
“What’s not a good idea, sweetheart?” he huskily whispers. What was the question? I think as he breathes hot kisses along my neck while rubbing my nipples in his palms. “Oh, hell, woman. You don’t have panties on,” he growls.
My core begins to pulsate as he grinds himself against the bare skin of my ass in a slow serenade. He hastily shoves the laundry basket off the bed, and it falls to the floor with a thud. He removes my shirt, and then runs his hands the length of my body in a gentle and slow seductive caress. Goose bumps erupt all over my body, caused by the contrast of his heated touch against the cool of the room.
He grabs onto my hips and pulls me back into his hardness, and grinds into my ass while holding me firm and stea
dy. He breathes in quick, hot pants at my ear, making my sex clench with need. “This…this is always a good idea,” he murmurs in a low growl.
Remembering the question, I croakily whisper, protesting in vain, “But we’re in someone else’s bedroom.” Grazing the outer lips of my sex with his fingertips, he slides a finger into me. My thoughts become a tangled mess again. I sink against his hard chest and open my legs wider for him.
“I don’t give a fuck where we are. I want you.”
I lick my dry lips as he dips two fingers deep inside, stretching me, filling me with need. He plunges his fingers in and out, fast and furious, his knuckles meeting resistance with each thrust, and I lose my breath.
His other hand wraps around me to squeeze the fullness of my breast in his hand. “Travis,” I moan.
He trails his tongue down my neck as he whispers, “So fucking ready for me.” He uses my arousal to spread over my clit, and begins massaging my hard nub with steady, firm strokes. I gasp, no longer caring we are in a house full of men. He turns me around, his eyes swirling with carnal lust, telling me he’s all animal. He lifts me onto the bed and climbs on top of me. My pulse spikes as he forces himself between my thighs, spreading my legs apart.
He leans down and hovers over my lips as he uses his powerful muscles to roll his hips into mine. The thickness of his jeans presses into my core with such force I think his cock is going to rip a hole right through his pants.
How can I want something so bad, and at the same time, know it is not good for me? “Kiss me,” he orders, and as he waits for me to respond, he rolls his hips into my opening again with a knowing smirk. Smug bastard knows I’ll cave, because, God…he feels so good. “Oh, God,” I whimper, bucking my hips into his hardness. I lift my head and brush my lips against his. “Make me forget.”
