Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series

by Johnson, Leslie

  “Ready.” The door bursts open and Beth comes blasting in, tossing cold water on our fire. “Oops,” she giggles.

  Reluctantly, I let Steph go and she turns bright pink and heads to her bedroom to grab a change of clothes and the girl shit all women deem necessary. I keep my back to Beth, and now Gage, and limp toward the kitchen.

  “He doesn’t want us to see his boner,” I hear Beth whisper to Gage.

  I keep limping onward as Gage whispers back, “Right, like half of North America hasn’t already seen it.”

  The suite at the Bellagio is rockin’ fuckin’ awesome. Three thousand square feet of luxury overlooking the fountain and lake. It pisses me off that we’re here to escape J-hole, but if we’re going to hide away anywhere, this is the place to do it. Plus, Steph feels safe here, I can already tell.

  She’s running water in the huge whirlpool tub, tossing in some girl smelling shit. It will be the first time we’ve been in a bath together. I’m still having to figure out how to make it work without getting water in my stitches. I look at her ass as she’s bent over the tub, her hand swirling through the water, spreading the salts. Hell, a little water won’t hurt.

  She stands and turns to me, picking up a flute of champagne we’d found placed on the nightstand and drains it. It’s her second glass and she quickly pours another. I hate the stuff, and pick up the beer Beth, bless her heart, remembered to bring.

  Steph taps a few buttons on her phone and Pandora starts up. Sade’s smooth voice filters out of the little speakers. Steph sits her phone down and then pauses and reaches for a towel. She tosses it on top of the phone and turns to me, a little grin on her face. She lifts a shoulder and says, “Just in case.”

  I limp over to her and add my phone to hers under the towel. “Damn straight.”

  She steps closer to me and presses her nose into my chest. She inhales and laughs, looking up at me. “How crazy is it that I even like the way you stink?”

  I lift an arm and do a pit sniff. I wince. “It’s insane. There’s nothing to like about that smell.”

  She leans in and sniffs again. “I don’t know. To me, it smells like hard work combined with sexy man.”

  “You think I’m sexy?”

  She nods and slips her hands under my shirt, pushing it up until I’m forced to lift my arms and she’s on tiptoe, pulling it over my head. “I think you’re very sexy,” she says and traces her finger over my chest. I watch it circle the muscles of my pecs and slide down the center of my stomach.

  “I love your abs,” she says and traces the outline of the muscles there. I’ve worked damn hard for that six-pack and she laughs when I grunt and flex them harder. She leans down and traces her tongue around each muscle before finally dipping her tongue in my navel.

  “Steph. The water.”

  She stands up and gives a little ‘eep’ and runs over, turning it off just as the level reaches the top. She pulls her sleeve up and reaches in, pulling the plug to let some of it drain.

  I limp up behind her, needing to be closer to her. She points to a chair. “Sit.” I do as she asks and she kneels on the floor and pulls off my shoes and socks. She looks at the bandage again and then looks around, and grabs the plastic liner of the trashcan. She winds it around the gauze and ties it closed. “Better than nothing.”

  She stands and holds out her hand, pulling me up, and unbuckles my shorts. The zipper hisses down and I’m soon naked, my cock pointing directly at her, like a divining rod points toward water. I step forward and nudge her with it.

  “You know,” I begin, trying to remember the story I’d learned in history class long ago. “Many years ago, men used sticks to find water. Those sticks were called divining rods, and the process was called water witching.” I lift a hand into her hair and push it back from her face. “Are you a witch, Steph? Have you cast a spell on me?”

  She smiles. “Yes. I do magic tricks too. Want to see one?”

  I nod.

  She drops to her knees and wraps a hand around my cock. “Now you see it, and now…” She takes me into her mouth, as far as she can go. I feel her throat close around me, the muscles spasm against my tip. She holds there, her nose near my stomach, her tongue moving up and down my shaft, her throat pulsing against my head. Holy God. She pulls away and does it again. And again. And again.

  “Steph. The water.” I laugh. This time it’s mostly drained away. She stands and laughs too before bending that sweet ass over and plugging the hole again and turning her back on the faucets.

  “I better stay away from you or we’ll never get that bath.” She steps several feet away and grasps the ends of her shirt and pulls it up, slowly, over her head. She reaches behind her to unfasten her bra, I see her fingers working the hooks in the mirror behind her. I look back at her as the straps fall off her shoulders, down her arms and to the floor. Her nipples are tight, puckered, ready for my mouth. She lifts a hand and cups her breasts before letting them drop to the waistband of her shorts.

  So damn slowly I nearly grind my teeth to stubs, her shorts work their way down her legs, followed by her panties. She steps out of them and kicks them aside.

  Fully naked, she stands in front of me. Her perfect breasts compete with the reflection of her perfect ass in the mirror. I limp to her, needing to feel the softness of her skin. I turn her around to face the mirror and step behind her, grabbing her wrists and place her hands on the reflective surface. I watch my hands slip up her waist and cover her breasts. She sighs and shudders under my hands. She leans back against my chest, my cock pressing into her back.

  I lower my hand, tracing it down her stomach and I meet her eyes in the mirror, but only for a second. Her gaze lowers to watch my hand as it moves between her legs.

  “Put your foot on the counter,” I instruct her and she does. Now I can see her, the beautiful pink lips opening for my finger. She gasps as she watches and feels my fingers move down her folds, slick with her arousal.

  She thrusts her hips and moans, and I give her what she’s needing. I turn my hand and slip two fingers inside her. She’s hot and clenching, grinding into my palm. I watch my fingers thrust in and out of her and then watch her face as it contorts in pleasure.

  She’s so close to coming when I feel the first wave of water wash over my foot. She feels it too, because her eyes open wide and she about knocks me backwards trying to get to the tub and stop the water from gushing over. She throws down some towels and turns to me. “You. Over there.” She points to the corner of the bathroom. I meekly limp my way over and lean against the wall while she, once again, drains off some water.

  An hour later, she’s pulling the plug again and the water rushes out of existence. I’d forgotten to bring a condom into the bathroom, so the two of us had made good use of fingers and mouths. I still want to be inside her… need to be inside her, but we have all night for that. We rinse off in the shower, Stephanie carefully using the hand held nozzle to avoid my bandage.

  I’d looked at her like she was crazy when she suggested it. “But, we just took a bath. Why the hell do we need a shower?”

  It took two words—“spermy water”—to get my ass under the spray.

  After we’d dried off, she pours another glass of champagne and grabs me another beer. She changes my bandages, which had gotten wet after all.

  “Tired?” she asks, and I am, but not that tired. I shake my head.

  She grins, “Good, ‘cause I grabbed a few things from your bedroom when I ran in to get your change of clothes.”

  I lift an eyebrow, instantly curious as to what she might have chosen. We’d assembled quite the toy box since we’d hooked up a month ago.

  “If you could choose just one item you wished I’d brought with me, which one would it be?”

  Decisions. Decisions. With a gimpy leg, I couldn’t really handle too much. The riding crop was fun, watching the red lines appear on her ass while I spanked her. She really loved the flogger, especially when I struck her between the legs.
She hadn’t let me use the nipple clamps on her yet, threatening to use them on me first. Maybe…

  “Nipple clamps?”

  She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and nods. Hot damn.

  “And? What else do you think I have with me?” she asks.

  Hmm… two things. The anal beads? She really likes them. One of the vibrators? Always a favorite. Oils? Candles? It hits me…

  “Thigh cuffs?”

  She grins bigger. Two points.

  She looks down at my leg again and frowns. “We can always break them out another day. I wasn’t thinking about your leg, just how much we were looking forward to using them.”

  “Honey, only a coma would keep me from trying this. Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about you bound that way?” I take a step closer to her and her breathing grows more shallow. “Spread in front of me, completely at my mercy. Do you know what that does to me?”

  Her eyes flick down to my hard cock and it twitches at her attention. “Do you know how hard I’m going to fuck you tonight? How many times I’m going to make you come?”

  She’s stopped breathing completely, although the pulse in her neck jumps to life. “Breathe, baby.” She inhales. “Good girl.” She exhales, her eyes transfixed on my lips. I walk her backwards toward the bed and lay her down upon the sheets. My bag’s right there; I reach inside and feel the leather and metal and pull it out.

  “Scoot back.” She does as I ask. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I climb on the bed beside her. I hook the large cuff around her upper thigh, then pull her arm down and use the smallest cuff around her wrist. I bend her leg and wrap the medium sized cuff around her ankle. I move to her other side and follow the same steps. Then I stand up to admire my handy work.

  Perfect.

  She squirms under my watchful eye and a rosy color creeps up her neck and cheeks. After all we’ve done together, she still gets embarrassed. So sweet.

  I reach into the bag again and pull out the nipple clamps she’d brought with her. She cringes and gives a little ‘eek’ as I twirl them on my finger.

  “What are you afraid of?” I ask her. “You like when I do this…” I lean forward and pinch her nipples between my fingers… “and you like this…” I lean down and take one between my teeth and bite. She groans and squirms, lifting her breasts up, pushing them into me harder. I pull her entire nipple into my mouth, suck hard and she lets out a little scream. I find her with my fingers, thrust two of them inside her and pound her to the quickest orgasm she’s ever experienced.

  She unravels before me, every muscles tightening around my fingers. I keep pounding, watching her face as she climaxes again.

  Her hair is across her face, her chest is heaving, but I don’t stop, I curl my fingers, pounding harder. One more, baby. I love watching how sensitive she is, how open she is, how orgasmic she is. I feel powerful, the master of my universe as I orchestrate this beautiful performance. She screams, then clamps her lip between her teeth as she crescendos for me again.

  I become a thirsty man and must drink from her nectar. I move around and dive between her legs. She’s so wet and hot, my tongue sinks into her center, lapping her up. She bucks up and I curl my hands around her thighs, holding her still while I plunge into her over and over. Her smell, her taste is driving me wild. I need to be in her now.

  I fumble with a condom, glance at the nipple clamps and pick them up. Spread before me, Stephanie is still panting, her chest heaving hard. I slow down, the beauty of her making me pause to enjoy this moment. I reach up to her face and push her hair away from her eyes.

  “Do you have any idea how much I need you?” I ask and she nods. She does know. She needs me just as much.

  “Do you trust me?”

  She nods and I lean down and take one nipple in my mouth and then the other. Kneeling between her legs, my cock presses just inside her entrance. I open one clamp and carefully place it on her left nipple. She cries out at it bites into her, arching up into the pain. I wait until she opens her eyes again. Without me asking, she nods and cries out again as the second clamps takes her hostage. I plunge into her before the cry has a chance to turn into a moan. She opens her eyes and they’re wild, she’s thrashing against her restraints, an animal under me.

  “Ah,” she cries and I watch her closely, looking for the first sign of distress. She likes it hard, likes it rough, and sometimes I’m not sure if I’ve crossed a line. “Yes,” she cries out and it’s my signal that’s she’s okay.

  I thrust and pull out, feeling her warmth try to vacuum me back in. I thrust again, hard, and watch her breasts bounce. She cries out again.

  I’m getting close, but I don’t want to stop, I don’t want to leave this moment. This moment when nothing in the world exists but us.

  “Touch. You.” She says the words between gasps and I smile down at her, knowing that part for her is torture. She loves to be tied up, loves the helplessness, the loss of control. But she also wants her arms around me, her fingers digging into my back.

  “Soon, baby,” I tell her and begin to thrust into her hard again. My balls tighten and my vision grays. I’m so damn close.

  Boom!

  There’s a huge crash in the other room and then screaming and another crash. The bedroom bursts open and men dressed in black riot gear pour into the room, guns draw.

  Stephanie is screaming and I’m pulled off her and tossed on the floor. I crash down and pain blooms in my leg.

  “Stay down,” one of the men yells at me.

  I don’t. I try to get up. I’ve got to get to Stephanie. She’s tied up, spread open, vulnerable. She’s exposed to every man in this room. Her screams are a living thing inside my head.

  “Stay down.” The man yells again. I still don’t listen. I’ve got to protect her. She’s on her side now, still screaming but now curled up into a fetal position.

  “Third warning.”

  The end of the gun crashes into the back of my head just as I reach for her again.

  Chapter 13 – Steph

  One moment I’m writhing in every imaginable feeling… pain, pleasure, love, hate. Bliss. The clamps attached to me heighten everything, make me raw. Ken is looking down at me, his chocolate eyes filled with desire and… something else. I love him. I want to shout the words.

  Then there’s crashing and screaming and yelling and men and guns. And then there’s Ken, reaching for me, the gun coming down, knocking him out.

  “Ken!” I scream his name.

  Someone tosses a blanket over me and a female officer approaches. It says SWAT across her chest. I don’t understand why.

  “Are you hurt?” she asks me, and I just stare at her, not sure how to answer. The nipple clamps have started to hurt like hell, but that’s hardly her business.

  “Are you hurt?” she asks me again.

  I shake my head. “No. What’s happening? Why are you here?” I try to find Ken again; he’s still lying on the floor. I yell his name.

  “Miss, look at me. Are you here against your will? Have you been hurt? Where are the weapons?”

  “What? Weapons? There are no weapons.” Shit. Gage had a gun! Is that why these people are here?

  I hear Ken moan and I look at the woman. “Please, can you untie me? That’s my boyfriend. He would never hurt me. We were just…” Oh my god, how do I explain this? “Just… please. I don’t know why you’re here.”

  The woman looks away from me and to the men around the room. “Privacy, please. Take him with you.” She nods at the floor.

  I hadn’t realized it, but someone had cuffed Ken and he was now being hauled out of the room, still naked. Oh my shit… the condom hanging from his, now limp, penis. I’d thought I’d known mortification before. I’d thought I’d felt the bomb blast of surprise. That was nothing to this… tied up, wearing nipple clamps, while a SWAT team drags the lover they’d pulled from between my legs out the door.

  Once they are gone, the woman pulls the blanket off me and stares at my
get up. “Please,” I say. “Can you please help me get out of this?”

  Her own face winces as she releases one clamp and then the other. My eyes nearly roll back into my head as the blood rushes back into the tips.

  “Let me get something straight,” the officer says as she begins to unbuckle me. “You were not being harmed, you were not being threatened? Is that correct?”

  I massage my wrist as she removes one buckle and then the other. I pull the blanket back over me and desperately want to massage my breasts.

  “No. Why would you think that?” I ask, still trying to understand all that just happened.

  “We received a 911 call that a woman in this room was being held against her will and that a male was heard threatening a female. There was also talk of weapons. Murder-suicide.”

  I shudder. Jerome? The bastard.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when I realize what’s probably happened. I give her the short version of the story and listen as she calls someone and confirms the details.

  She–Officer Cook I learn—stands up. “Young lady, bless your heart. That’s just about one of the craziest things I’ve ever heard. We’ve had to deal with a lot of crank calls, kids swatting each other.”

  “Swatting?”

  Officer Cook points to the four letters on her vest. SWAT. “Kids call in, saying there’s a bomb or death threat at another kid’s house. We have to go in prepared for the worst because we can’t take the chance that it’s not a prank.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s dangerous for everyone. Your boyfriend could have been seriously injured because he wouldn’t stay down. Our guys don’t know, don’t care why he’s fighting back.”

  There’s a knock on the door. I pull the blanket tighter around me and Officer Cook opens the door. I try to listen, but only hear bits and pieces–swatted, weapon with permit, crazy shit—is among them.

  Closing the door again, the officer says, “Why don’t you get dressed and meet us in the living room. Your boyfriend’s alright, so are your other friends. See you in a minute.”