Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set

by Lashell Collins

  I am closing the door of the dishwasher when I suddenly feel Josh’s hand in my hair. Standing behind me, he sweeps my hair off to the side and over my right shoulder, exposing my neck to him as his hand grazes over my breast. Then his arm snakes around my waist and gently pulls me back towards him. I gasp softly at the hardness of his chest against my back. He nuzzles my hair, inhaling deeply. His arm holds me fast while his other hand roams slowly down my hip over the skirt of my satin slip dress.

  “Have I told you how good you look tonight, Samantha?” he whispers softly into my ear as his hand slowly slips beneath my dress and begins to massage my ass. My breath hitches. I shake my head slightly as he lightly kisses and nips at my ear.

  “No.” It is a breathy whisper and all I can manage at the moment. He kisses a spot behind my ear and I shiver. Then he slowly leaves a trail of soft wet kisses from there down my neck.

  “You look so sexy in this little dress, Samantha,” he whispers between kisses. “Almost good enough to eat.” His hand ventures slowly down the back of my thigh and back up again. I moan softly. “Did you choose this dress just for me, Sam?” he asks seductively. Unable to speak, I nod mutely. “Answer me.” His command is soft but demanding and he bites my earlobe gently.

  “Ah,” I groan at the unexpected attack and he suckles my earlobe softly, soothing it. His hand moves from my behind to that secret pleasure spot he liberated last night and he lightly runs one finger over the lace of my already soaked panties, along my damp opening.

  “Oh, Samantha,” he whispers hypnotically, “you are so wet, baby.” Slowly, he maneuvers past my panties and slips his finger inside me. Holy cow. He groans and kisses my neck and ear as his finger begins to move slowly, in and out, in and out. I go weak and sag against him, feeling his strong arm tighten around my waist. He keeps up his slow sensual torture – in and out, in and out – and resumes his earlier line of questioning.

  “Tell me why you chose this dress, Samantha,” he whispers into my ear between kisses. I am whimpering now, barely able to keep standing, grateful for his tight hold around my waist. “Tell me,” he commands softly.

  “Because of … what you said … this morning,” I manage with great difficulty, each word coming out as a breathy pant. And I feel him smile against my skin.

  “What I said about that night gown you were wearing this morning?” he asks softly, still pleasuring me with his finger.

  “Yes.” It’s a strangled moan.

  “Oh, Samantha, I like that you want to please me,” he says seductively. “I like that a lot. I want to please you too, baby.” Abruptly, he removes his finger, leaving me bereft and wanting. No! “Mmm,” he moans in appreciation and I look up to see that the tip of his finger is in his mouth and he is sucking it eagerly. Holy shit. Did he really just do that? And how could something so wrong be so freaking hot? Oh, my God. “Fresh strawberries and cream have nothing on you, sweet Sam,” he whispers into my ear. “You taste so good, baby.”

  I am reeling, my wits thoroughly scattered all over the floor of my kitchen. Just a few moments ago I watched him grow so angry it almost frightened me, and now I am a dripping, quivering mess. How can he switch gears so quickly? I don’t have time to ponder the question as he says the one thing I want to hear most right now.

  “Can I make love to you, Sweet Sam?” he whispers.

  “Oh, yes please,” I beg, and he smiles wickedly at me. Turning me to face him, he kisses me hungrily, his hands fisting in my hair before traveling slowly down my back. I reach up, running my hands over his solid chest. His hands find the hem of my dress and venture beneath it, gently kneading my behind before his fingers find my panties and begin pulling them down.

  “I don’t think we’re going to make it to the bedroom, baby,” he says gruffly, letting go of my panties and grasping my waist with his big hands, lifting me. “Wrap your legs around me,” he says. I do as I’m told and he walks me backward toward the counter and sits me down. Standing between my legs, he kisses me again as one hand works furiously on his belt buckle and the other finds my panties somewhere around my knees and struggles to remove them. I decide to help him out and reach for his pants and he groans in gratitude. He dispenses with my underwear as I unclasp his jeans and lower his zipper. But before I can push them down over his hips, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a foil packet.

  He moves with urgency then, pushing down his pants and briefs, freeing his erection and kissing me fiercely while his fingers work to open the condom. I run my fingers through his hair, knotting them in the silky softness of it and holding his lips to mine as he rolls the latex on. He maneuvers my behind to the edge of the counter and pushes my legs wider apart. In an instant, he is inside me, filling me completely and moving furiously as I call out in pleasure. He hammers into me again and again, pushing me higher and higher and I am already building, my body still on fire from his earlier ministrations. My insides start to quiver and I moan loudly as he increases his speed. In no time at all, pleasure builds and pierces my very core, spiraling out from deep within me, radiating throughout my entire body.

  “Come on, Sam,” he growls at my ear and his strangled voice pushes me over the edge. I am lost as my body takes over, exploding around him, trembling uncontrollably. I shatter into a million tiny pieces, clinging to him and calling out his name.

  “Ah, thank fuck,” he snarls, slamming into me and stilling as he explodes with me, his arms tightening around my waist. I slump forward, my head falling to his chest. We stay this way for several minutes as we struggle to catch our breath and I feel his fingers in my hair. As our breathing slows he kisses the top of my head. “You okay?” he asks me softly, still panting slightly.

  I nod slowly, sitting up to look him in the eye. “Yes,” I whisper.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” he asks with concern, taking my head in both his hands.

  “No,” I whisper again.

  He softly kisses my forehead and then he gently kisses my lips and smiles slightly at me.

  “Thank you for dinner,” he says quietly.

  Shyly, I return his smile. “Thank you for the rose.”

  He gives me that heart-stopping smile of his and I melt. “Come. Let’s get you to bed.” He pulls out of me and removes the spent condom, discarding it in the trash as he pulls up his briefs and pants. Then he reaches for me, lifting me from the counter and taking me into his arms, and carries me from the kitchen toward my bedroom.

  Chapter Twelve

  Joshua

  “Oh, Joshua!” She screams out my name as we explode in each other’s arms and her orgasm seems to go on forever as she clings to me, her fingernails digging into the flesh of my back as her enchanting green eyes never waver from mine. Fuck, yes! Say my name, baby! I collapse on top of her, my face buried in the crook of her neck as we struggle to catch our breath. I can feel her body tremble with aftershocks, and each time, it makes my cock twitch inside of her.

  I have never had sex like this before in my life. It’s always been good. Fantastic even. But it just seems to be so much more intense with Samantha. So much more … powerful and … emotional? I can’t explain it. This woman has done things to me that I don’t understand, and it is so much more than physical. I thought that’s all it was. I thought once I’d fucked her I would get whatever this is out of my system but, that hasn’t proven true. Being with her has only seemed to make me want her more. I can’t get enough of her. Even now … even after taking her in the kitchen and again up against the wall in the hallway as we made our way to the bedroom … lying here in her bed still buried deep inside her, I can feel my desire for her building again already. This is crazy. It’s like she has me under some kind of spell.

  I slowly pull out of her and remove my condom, tossing it to the floor near our discarded clothing. Then I take her into my arms and roll over onto my back, bringing her with me. I thread my fingers in her silky, sweet-smelling hair as my other arm tightens around her waist and she snuggles in clos
e to me, her head resting on my chest. God, this feels good. She feels so good in my arms and I find myself wishing that this could last forever. My sentiments are echoed in the song that’s just ending on her iPod in the background – the voice of an angel asking if she can hold her love and look into his eyes forever. A question that I have been silently asking myself all night long. But I know that I’m only fooling myself if I think the answer is yes. There is no way that this can work.

  As I hold her close to me, my mind can’t help but wander back over our dinner conversation and her subtle reminders that we are from two different worlds. Studying in Paris? A house on Martha’s Vineyard? I shake my head slightly, feeling discouraged as I look up at the ceiling. There is no way this girl will want to be with me for long. I know that she is slumming right now and I’m just some exciting walk on the wild side for her. A sexy story she can tell her rich girlfriends about how she lost her virginity. I frown to myself as I struggle to understand why that thought makes me so uneasy.

  The next song on her iPod begins to play and I take in the words as I listen, my fingers still playing in her hair. It’s a song I’ve never heard before but the lyrics seem cosmically suited to this moment in time, a lovely female voice singing about how wrong it is that she’s lying here right now but she just can’t stay away from her lover.

  “That’s an appropriate song,” I mutter absentmindedly, speaking only to myself, and Sam utters a soft knowing sigh. “Who is that?” I ask her.

  “The Veronicas,” she answers quietly, offering no further information, and I continue to listen to the words of the song thinking about how they perfectly describe this situation I’ve gotten myself into.

  “Josh?” Her voice is soft and hesitant and it brings me back to the now.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “What are we doing here?” she asks softly, and I’m not sure I understand her question. “Two nights ago you said that this couldn’t happen because of my case. And yet, here we are.” She sounds as confused as I feel.

  I sigh heavily, kissing the top of her head. “I know what I said two nights ago, Samantha. And I tried to comply with that. I really did. I have stepped so far over the line with you, I can’t even see the line anymore. But I just … could not make myself stay away from you,” I say, echoing the words of the song.

  She leans up on her elbow and looks down at me, her bright green eyes boring into mine. “Do you regret it?” she asks me sadly. And I get the feeling she’s dreading my answer.

  “No, Sam,” I reply without hesitation. “I don’t regret it for a minute.” She smiles and I think I see relief in her eyes.

  “Will you get in trouble for this?” she asks me with a sudden look of concern.

  I nod slightly. “I could be reprimanded for it. Even written up if my lieutenant happens to be in the right mood when he finds out. If he finds out. But the real trouble would be in damaging my reputation at the precinct and compromising the integrity of this case.”

  Her expression grows more grave as she looks down at me. “I don’t want you to get into trouble,” she says quietly, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s getting at. Is this her way of ending it? It’s a nice, neat excuse. One that doesn’t make her sound like a shallow rich girl just looking for a wild ride. Knock it off, Pierce. You know that’s not what this girl is about. You’re just angry because you’re about to get the boot. Suck it up. You knew this couldn’t work out anyway, not with your fucked up issues.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, a slight bitter hint to my voice. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “It’s our problem.” I frown at her words and she continues. “I mean … I’ll do whatever you want me to in order to keep anyone you work with from finding out about us.”

  She is gazing at me, waiting on a response I think. Only I’m still waiting for the kiss off to come. But she doesn’t say anything else. She just looks at me. And I blink at the realization that she’s not ending this. Not yet anyway. I reach up and run my fingers lightly across her forehead, moving a wayward strand of her beautiful brown hair out of her eyes. “Sweet Sam,” I whisper. She smiles and leans down and kisses me lightly on the lips. Then she lowers her head to my chest again and snuggles close, prompting me to tighten my arms around her once more.

  We lay this way in silence for a long time, the only sound in the room the softly playing music in the background. Janet Jackson explaining how love goes. I frown again. “That’s quite an eclectic mix on your iPod,” I say with mock disapproval and she giggles. It is such a lovely sound and it makes me smile.

  “My tastes are all over the place,” she says by way of explanation. “I don’t care about genres or generations. I just love great music.” I nod, kissing the top of her head and inhaling deeply. “What about you, mister musician? What type of music do you prefer?”

  I chuckle at her, squeezing her to me once more. “Well, I am the lead guitarist in a metal cover band in my spare time so … I think you can probably deduce my tastes. And let’s get this out of the way right now, all right? Just so you know, in my opinion, Aerosmith is the greatest rock band ever.”

  “Ever,” she says sarcastically, and I can tell she is laughing at me.

  “Ever,” I reply definitively. Her giggling continues. “Oh, and Slash is clearly God.”

  “Slash?” Her tone is incredulous. “Not Joe Perry? I’m shocked,” she says, still giggling.

  “Yes, Slash,” I say laughing. And I realize that I’ve laughed a lot tonight with her. In fact, I don’t ever remember laughing so much. It feels good. “I get the feeling you disagree?” I ask with a smile.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I guess I’ve never really been into rock much.”

  “Hmm. Well clearly I’m going to have to enlighten you a little bit,” I say with a quiet smile, “or this relationship is doomed before it even begins.” She gasps softly and raises up onto her elbow again, looking down at me.

  “Is this a relationship, Josh?” she asks softly. “I mean … is that what you want?”

  I am surprised, both by her question and by the level of hope I hear in her voice. Is she for real? Is this incredible, amazing young woman – this beautiful goddess who could have any man she ever thought about wanting – is she really implying she wants to pursue a relationship with me? Me? A fucked up grease monkey with a badge. And my heart starts to pound as I wonder … what the hell do I tell her? How do I answer that question? Is that what I want? A relationship? The very thing I have avoided all my adult life. If I say no, I’m certain that this will end right here tonight. But, what if I say yes and I end up hurting her? Physically hurting her someday?

  I think my hesitation upsets her and she sits up abruptly, moving to the edge of the bed as if she’s about to stand. And I can tell from the look on her lovely face that she’s near tears. “Sam, wait,” I say urgently, sitting up and moving over to her. Tentatively, I wrap my arms around her waist and gently turn her to face me. I place a hand beneath her chin and lift her face to mine so I can look into her eyes. I swallow nervously and say, “You don’t understand. Yes,” I tell her earnestly, “a relationship is what I want.” Did I just say those words out loud? “But you have to remember that this is all new for me. I have never done this before. And I will be honest with you, Samantha,” I say looking deep into her eyes as my heart continues to pound in my chest. “This scares the hell out of me!”

  “But I don’t understand why, Josh,” she says sadly, her voice small and uncertain. “Why have you never wanted a relationship before? And please don’t get angry with me for asking. But I need to know.”

  She is looking at me with the saddest eyes I think I’ve ever seen and it makes me hate myself. But I can feel my jaw tighten and I know that I have to fight back the anger and the bile rising in my throat right now. “Samantha … it’s complicated. I can’t explain that to you right now,” I say through clenched teeth a
nd her sadness deepens. “Please, Sam,” I say caressing her face with my hand. “All that’s important right now is that my answer to your question is yes. I do want a relationship with you. Please … can’t that be enough for now?”

  I wait with bated breath for her to answer me, staring into her magical green eyes, so full of sadness and uncertainty. Finally she nods her head, and I let out a heavy sigh of relief and take her into my arms, holding her tightly. I know that at some point, I am going to have to come clean to her. Tell her exactly why relationships scare the shit out of me. But I know that when I do it will end. There’s no way in hell she will ever want to stay with me once she knows what’s in my genes, in my family history. Once she learns all about the illustrious Danny Pierce and the legacy he left me, she will walk … no, she will run away and never look back. And I can’t say I blame her. She’d be crazy not to.

  Fuck. I should never have let it get this far; I should just do us both a favor and walk away now. But even as the thought floats through my mind I know that I won’t. I can’t. There is something about this girl that calls to me on some deep, basic level and I can’t even begin to understand it, but I know without a doubt that I will do just about anything to be with her for as long as she will have me. Maybe that makes me a selfish bastard. Fitting. Another fine personality trait passed down from Danny Pierce.

  Samantha slowly pulls away from my arms and looks at me. She smiles slightly but I can still see the trace of sadness and uncertainty behind her eyes and I wish I knew what to say or do to make that go away. I swallow nervously again.

  “Is it okay if I go grab a glass of water?” I ask her.

  “Of course,” she says softly. “In fact, I’ll go get it for you.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I want to grab my gun anyway. I left it in the kitchen. Makes me uneasy,” I say as I stand.

  I bend and kiss the top of her head and venture, naked, out to the kitchen where I’ve left my gun in its holster at the dining room table. I grab the holster and turn toward the fridge when I see Samantha enter the kitchen. She’s wearing nothing but my discarded black shirt and she looks so damn fine, her long brown hair all tousled and sexy. I watch in silence as she takes out a small tray and then opens the fridge and gathers a bowl of fresh strawberries and small container of cream. She places them both on the tray and then pulls out two bottles of water and places them on the tray as well. I grab the small vase that holds the single rose and set it on the tray as well and she looks up at me and smiles, her eyes holding no trace of the sadness that I saw there moments ago. I grin at her and reach out to caress her face, leaning down to kiss her.