Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2)

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Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) Page 6

by Cherry Shephard


  “What are you doing?” she asks, watching as I quickly make up the two-seater couch on the other side of the office. I pause and look up at her with a knowing smile. “What do you think I’m doing, Natalie?” I ask, straightening as her face turns red once more.

  “I… that is, I thought that—”

  “That we would be sharing the bed, right?” I finish for her gently, smiling again when she nods. Her head is down as I approach her and place a finger under her chin, turning her face up toward me. “Beautiful, I would share that bed with you in a second if I thought you were ready,” I whisper, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. I’m resisting the urge to thrust my denim covered cock against her. “And when I do, you’ll be begging for it.”

  I drop a kiss lightly on her lips before releasing her and turning away, clicking off the lamp and moving to the couch. It’s much too small for me, but I manage to swing my legs over one arm of it and get myself somewhat comfortable. I wish I could say the same for my pants, though. They’re painfully tight and my balls are squashed into the most uncomfortable position. Pulling my legs back down, I unzip my jeans. I would have pulled them down, but tiny gasp in the quiet room stops me. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can easily make out her silhouette, still standing in the center of the room. “Go to sleep, Natalie,” I groan, rubbing a hand over my face as I watch her silently move to the bed. Outside the office, I hear the noise from the bar quieting down as Lance locks up for the night. The bed squeaks slightly as she lies down, and I quickly shuck off my jeans and back down on the couch in nothing but a pair of white briefs. I’m trying so hard to maintain my composure, but the thought of Natalie Harper in my bed has me reaching down to adjust my hard cock. I can’t help myself, the second my hand touches the bulge I’m gone. Running my fingers over my balls through my briefs, I squeeze them lightly then move up the shaft. My cock twitches and jumps as I pass over the sensitive little section just below the head. I can feel the pre-cum creating a small wet patch on the front of my briefs. Glancing over toward the bed, I can’t tell if she’s watching me touch myself, but as I slip my hand down my briefs and run my fingers over my bare skin, a part of me is hoping she is.

  Gripping the base of my cock with a firm wrist, I drag my hand up and over the head, then all the way back down, passing my hand over my tight balls. It feels so damn good that I do it again… and again, biting my bottom lip to stop myself from groaning out loud. I imagine my hand turning into her mouth; her warm, wet mouth as it slides up and down on my cock. A thin sheen of sweat beads my brow and I throw my head back as I feel my balls tightening, preparing for the release. Then, out of nowhere, Natalie’s face morphs into someone else… someone that has my cock shriveling faster than a possum running from a tractor.

  Liz.

  Cursing under my breath, I remove my hand from my pants and flop back on the pillow. There’d been no denying Natalie wanted comfort tonight, and while I want nothing more than to bury myself between those soft, sweet thighs, I know it wouldn’t be good for either of us.

  Get it together, Keets, I scold myself. It’s just three weeks until the anniversary of her death. Just three more weeks and, you’ll be gone. You don’t want to be leaving behind a broken heart.

  NATALIE

  My heart rate slows as I hear his even breathing coming from the couch. I thought for sure he’d caught me watching him move his hand on his cock, but if he did, he certainly didn’t say anything. I wonder what he was thinking about, whatever it was, it’d obviously frustrated him, as he stopped before he’d finished. I can’t deny that I enjoyed the show, as the throbbing between my legs reminds me. Lying in bed, my fingers run over my ribs and up to my breasts. Pregnancy has made my nipples especially sensitive, and it doesn’t take more than a mere flick of my fingers to have me gasping. Biting my lip to try and shut up, I let one hand play with my nipples while the other slides down beneath the blankets and beneath my skirt. Pushing my thong aside, I slip one finger along the seam of my pussy, shivering as it passes over my sensitive clit. Sliding it back down, I bite my lip harder as I push that lone finger inside me. I’m so wet that it makes a small squelching sound. Suddenly, the moon slips out from behind a cloud, bathing the room in a soft light. Keets moves and I freeze. I can’t tell if his eyes are open or not. I get my answer when I hear his soft snore, and I sag with relief, pulling my hand away from my pussy, the moment ruined.

  Slipping from the bed, I take a seat at the desk and turn on a small lamp, illuminating the immediate area. Tears spring to my eyes as they land on a photo in a delicate glass frame, and I carefully pick it up as I look into my mother’s gentle eyes. I miss her and Daddy so much, every day. I wonder what they’d say about my life if they could see me now, how they’d react to my baby…

  My hand clasps protectively over my stomach, and for the first time I feel a swell of love for the child growing inside me. This is real, I tell myself. This is my family. Placing the photo back down on the table, I gasp when I see a drawing. Picking it up almost reverently, my fingers trace lightly over the intricate markings that make up my sleeping form, resting on a bed in the middle of the ocean. It’s a remarkable likeness; he even got the tiny scattering of pale freckles across my nose. I suppose I should be worried that a man, who is basically a complete stranger, is watching me while I sleep, even drawing me, but somehow the thought gives me comfort. The image gives me great insight into the mind of Damien Keets. The ocean in his picture is so dark and intimidating. I look like I’m completely alone lying on that bed. A shark fin is circling me, and I wonder if it’s supposed to represent him. Is he the shark, or the ocean? Is he the predator, or is he simply as alone as I am? Putting down the drawing, I open the top drawer and grin as I take out Shannon’s favorite pen. It has this ridiculously large white feather stuck in the top; Daddy made it for her a number of years ago, before he died. I drag the tip of the feather lightly across my cheek, shivering at the tickling sensation it produces. Putting it back in the drawer, I stand and move to the doorway, glancing back to see Keets still sound asleep.

  As I push open the door, I find myself back in the main bar area, blinking rapidly against the bright light over the bar. A young man is sitting there with his back toward me, counting the money in the till. As I approach, he looks up and gives me a broad grin. His teeth are perfectly white and straight, and stand out against his dark skin. He’s wearing a pair of ridiculously oversized white sunglasses on top of his long black dreadlocks; they look like bug eyes and I stifle a giggle. “Natalie, right?” he asks, hopping off the bar stool and extending his hand out. I grip it in a polite handshake and give him a small smile, eyeing the money on the bar with a questioning look. “Lance,” he introduces himself, gathering up the piles of money and putting them into envelopes. “I just started here a week ago. I was just sorting out the money from the day and locking up.”

  Right. Idiot, Natalie. He’s the bartender, not a damn thief. “It’s a nice bar,” I tell him. “Do you like working here?”

  “I love it,” he says, flashing me another grin as he picks up the envelopes and puts them in the deposit bag before holding it out to me. “Could you put this in the office for me?” he asks, indicating with his head to the door I just exited. “I’d do it myself, but Keets gave me explicit instructions that he’s not to be disturbed for the rest of the night. Of course,” he looks me up and down, and I flush as I remember that I’m wearing a short skirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. “I had no idea he was with a beautiful woman.” He gives me a wink that instantly puts me at ease, and I laugh out loud.

  “Well, thank you, and of course I’ll put it away for you,” I reply with a grin, placing the bag down on the bar and following him around the room as he stacks chairs on tables. “So…” I ask casually, not wanting to appear too obvious, “What’s the deal with Keets?” Lance almost drops the chair he’s holding as he turns back to me, his eyes wide with excitement. “Keets is fantastic,”
he says, a little too enthusiastically. “He’s the one who got me this job. I was a runaway and lived on the streets until about a week ago. Keets is the one who found me in town and offered me the job. Gave me a place to stay and everything.” I can’t help but grin at his obvious bromance love for his employer. “That’s great,” I respond with a smile, lightly touching his arm. “But, what about the man himself? Is he trustworthy?”

  “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” a cold voice asks behind me.

  “Keets,” I gasp, spinning around with my hand over my heart. “You scared the hell out of me.” I see Lance slip out of the bar from the corner of my eye, and I force myself to stand tall and proud. Warily watching Keets walking toward me, I find myself backing up until my hip hits the side of the bar. “Have I given you a reason to not trust me, Natalie?” he asks, his voice low, eyes never leaving mine. He stops about two inches away from me and leans forward, brushing my hair over my shoulder and down my back. His breath is hot and heavy against my ear. “Have I, Natalie?” he whispers, sending shivers down my spine. “Keets, I—”

  “Shh,” he interrupts, placing a finger against my lips. “Don’t speak. Just let me show you how trustworthy I am.” Removing his finger, he immediately replaces it with his lips, kissing first one side of my mouth, then the other. By the time I feel his tongue probing, demanding access, I am lost to the sensation. Parting my lips, I allow him to deepen the kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck as his hands rest lightly on my hips, pulling me against his lower body. I can feel his hardness pressing against me through his jeans before his hands move lower, beneath my short skirt…

  “Wait,” I gasp, pushing him away breathlessly. He eyes me as I move away, desperate to put some distance between us. I don’t know what just came over me; he has me under some kind of kinky spell that makes me want to throw myself at him every time he comes near me. “We can’t do this,” I say, finally looking up at him. He seems to hesitate, then nods once. “You’re right, of course,” he says curtly. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Turning around, he stalks back toward the office, slamming the door closed behind him.

  I sag against the bar and pull my hair up into a ponytail, securing it with a hair tie from my wrist. Rubbing my hands over my face, I let out a loud sigh and step behind the bar. I grab a glass of ice water before moving to a small round table. Taking a seat, I sit in the dark and crunch a piece of ice between my back teeth, contemplating everything that just happened. There’s no denying that there’s an attraction between myself and Keets, which surprises me in itself; I generally go for much younger guys but he seems to be pushing forty. But damnit, those eyes, those hands… those lips, make it impossible for me to resist him.

  My hand shifts to my stomach and I rub it gently as I drink my water. I can’t afford to be selfish right now; there’s no longer just myself to consider. Groaning, I drop my head to the table and bang it lightly against the wood a few times. How did my life come to this? Fresh out of college, pregnant by a one-night stand and hopelessly attracted to a man almost twice my age. There’s no question about it, I’m completely hopeless. My parents must be turning over in their graves.

  I’m woken a short time later as I’m picked up from my seat. I weakly protest, but I’m just too tired to argue.

  “Stay still,” Keets mumbles gruffly as he carries me effortlessly through to the office and deposits me gently on the bed. He reaches for the blanket and drags it up over my legs before turning to go back to the couch. Grumbling, I stretch out my arm and snag the edge of his shirt. “Stay,” I mumble. He seems to hesitate, but through my sleep clogged eyes I can just make out his shoulders slumping in resignation. Pulling his shirt and jeans back off, he slides beneath the blanket, as far away from me as possible. Groaning, I roll over and tuck my top leg over his, my head in the crook of his neck and my arm thrown around his waist. He lies there stiffly, I can’t even hear his breath. Stroking his abs with my hands, my fingers brush over the hardened peaks of his nipples and I’m rewarded by his sharp intake of breath. Snuggling up closer to him, I press a sleepy kiss against his bare neck and close my eyes. He exhales a shaky breath, his arm moving to rest heavily across my hips as he entwines his legs with mine. I know it’s risky, sleeping next to a half naked man I’ve only just met, but for the first time in a long time I feel safe.

  “Natalie,” he growls in a low voice. “You keep that up and you’re going to get a lot more than you bargained for.”

  I shiver in a combination of lust and fear, but I wiggle up against him again, unable to help myself. He leans up on one elbow and I let out a squeal as he flips me over onto my back, pinning my wrists at the side of my head. “I warned you,” he whispers harshly, before claiming my lips with his own. His tongue probes heatedly at my mouth, demanding access that I’m all too ready to give him. Sweeping his hands down torso, I give a slight shudder when his palm passes over my sensitive nipple. Obviously encouraged by my response, he uses his thumb and forefinger to pluck at the distended nub until I gasp from the exquisite sensation.

  Hooking his fingers into the waistband of my skirt, he tears his mouth away from mine. He stares into my eyes and silently asks permission. I don’t even have to consider it. Arching up off the bed, I allow him to pull my skirt and panties down my legs in one swift movement, leaving me naked and open to his gaze. His arms move beneath my knees as he spreads me open as he drags me down the bed until my legs are suspended in mid air, over his shoulders. Kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed, he gives me a deliciously wicked grin before leaning forward and inhaling deeply. “Fuck me,” he breathes. “You smell like Heaven.” Sweeping his tongue all the way up between my thighs, he leaves me laying in a puddle of molten lava. Gasping, I try to arch up again, but he pulls his mouth away from me and pushes my hips back down on the bed. “Stay,” he orders before returning between my legs. Using his fingers to separate the soft folds of skin, I cry out when his tongue latches on to my clit and sucks rhythmically. Overwhelmed with sensation I try to close my legs, but he growls against my clit and forces them open once more, sucking the sensitive nub harder. A warm feeling spreads through my stomach and causes my legs to start shaking. Still, he doesn’t let go. “Keets,” I cry out as my insides pulse with need. I feel myself building… building… building…

  “Oh my God, I scream as he holds my legs open and devours me like a starving man. My pussy clenches and then I’m coming hard against his mouth. Keets stays there, sucking my clit, until my legs are shaking and I’m covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He lets go of my clit with a pop, then he’s moving over me and kissing me, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth.

  Running my hands over his rock hard abs, I pull at the buttons on his jeans, desperate to take them off of him. “Slow down,” he mutters. “I’m barely maintaining control as it is.”

  “Don’t,” I whisper. “I need this.”

  Those words seem to be his undoing, and with a low growl he stands and unfastens his jeans. I lie back on the bed and slowly lick my lips as I watch his little strip tease. When he finally drops his jeans I get my first good look at him and my jaw drops open in surprise. He’s huge. He fists his cock and slowly strokes it up and down as he cups his balls with his free hand. Grabbing a condom from the small table next to the bed, he sheaths himself. He watches me with hooded eyes as I lick my fingers and rub my clit in small circles. A husky moan escapes his full lips and he climbs back onto the bed and grabs my hips, dragging me over until I’m straddling his strong thighs, my pussy lips wrapped around his cock. Gripping my hips tighter he moves me back and forth, the rigid length of his cock rubbing up against my clit. Unable to take it any longer, I raise myself up and sink down over his cock in one fluid motion. “Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking tight.”

  His words undo me, and I thrust back and forth along his length, taking him almost the whole way out, before slamming back down on him again. His fingers dig into my hips as he rocks me back and
forth, then he sits up and pulls me down until I’m seated on his lap, my legs wrapped around his back. “So. Fucking. Tight,” he says again, punctuating each word with another jerk of his hips. “I’ll never get enough of you.” His lips cover mine again as he pistons in and out of me, leaning his arms back against the bed for support. I gasp as he lifts me up and off his cock, but then he grabs one of my legs and drags it to the end of the bed. “Come here,” he orders, waiting until I crawl on to my hands and knees. Positioning himself behind me, I cry out as I feel his cock probing my entrance from behind, demanding access. Gripping my hips in his fingers, he eases into me in one long, smooth thrust. His hand threads into my hair, fisting it tightly as he drags my head back. “Get ready,” he grunts, pulling my hair as he thrusts in and out of me. “I’m nothing but physical sensation, overwhelmed by what I am feeling.” I feel the pressure building once more, then I’m crying out as I fall, hearing him call out my name as he comes.

  Slowly pulling out of me, he’s silent as he ties off the condom and throws it into the trash bin by the desk. The mood seems to have instantly changed, but I don’t really understand why. Did I do something wrong?

  He climbs back into bed as I dress, keeping my back to him as I work through a myriad of emotions. Confusion, doubt, and self-consciousness wrap themselves around me and I lie back down on the bed, careful to keep as much distance between us as possible.

 

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