“Are you going to leave that sweatshirt on?”
Her head slowly tick-tocks back and forth. She tugs it off and now she’s naked again, straddling me.
“Ride me for a minute, Juliette.”
“No. I don’t want to.”
“Why?’
“It’s been too long. I want you on top.”
I flip us over and scoot down to give her pussy a lick. This has to be epic for her because I want no regrets at all on either side. Is it possible for pussy to taste this good? It’s been so long for me, I can’t remember. But this, I could do this all day long.
One orgasm and a stone-hard dick later, I climb between her legs and say, “Tell me this is what you want and that you’re sure about this.”
“This is what I want and I’m sure about this.”
“Shit, I was hoping you’d changed your mind.”
“No. Kade, do it. I want you inside.”
She’s so small, I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. So I take it very slow as I feel her stretch around me. And it slays me. In and out. In and out. Sweat beads on my forehead as I hold myself over her. One of her hands is on my shoulder, the other on my ass. When I’m fully seated, I ask her if she’s okay and she nods.
“No nod. Tell me.”
“Yes,” she pants.
“You’re so damn tight. I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“No. Just go slow.”
I inch out and then back in a few times, but so help me God, I’m going to blow. And I pull out and fucking come all over her stomach.
“Oh, hell, oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” I fumble around like a clumsy oaf. “Don’t move. Let me get something to clean you up.”
Jesus, what the fuck did I just do? Act like a damn hormone-gorged teenager? What the hell? This has got to go down as the number one worst fuck of all time.
I bring back a towel and wipe my mess off her.
“It’s okay, Kade. I’m flattered that I was able to do that to you.”
Why would she say that? “Flattered? I ruined it for you. I’m an ass and completely incompetent at doing this.”
“Get over here.” She gathers me close to her and says, “You didn’t ruin a thing. I’m touched. There’ll be another time.”
I pull out of her hold, humiliated. I push my hair back as I slowly walk away from her.
"Kade, don't go. Don't shut me out. We can do it again later."
I turn to face her.
“Juliette, I’m humiliated. Why would you want that? I just came like a teenager during his first time.” She says she’s touched? I need to get the fuck away from her. Next thing I know, she's there pulling me back to lie down next to her. How can I deny her anything after that little performance?
“Don’t think that way. The fact that we’re lying here together is perfect.”
“Stop it! Stop trying to make me feel better.” That shuts her up. The silence between us is thunderous. I want to say something, apologize again, but I think I’ve already said enough. Can I feel any more foolish?
Then her soft words rip me open and then heal me. “Okay, I get that you’re embarrassed, much like I was for you to see my bare … you know. So kiss me, Kade, and get back down between my legs. Finish what you started. Make it up to me. You’re damn good down there, you know.”
Her fucking doe eyes catch me off guard. She’s serious as hell. Shaking my head, I move in for the killing kiss. But when our tongues engage, I lose myself and is it me doing the controlling or her? She’s as aggressive as I am. She gives and takes as much as I and when I’m done, we’re both fighting for air, but it won’t be anything like when I finish nibbling on her pussy. I’m going to make her scream.
Seven
Juliette
Need. Inexpressible need fills me and I’m now the addict. He was clearly upset by what happened, but I was patting myself on the back. I didn’t know I was such a temptress! But now, he’s driven every other cohesive thought from my brain. I want to claw at Kade, force him to hurry and finish what he started. But he refuses to take my cues. Swatting my hands away when they find purchase in his hair as if I’m some pesky gnat, he takes his sweet time, his tongue fluttering over my clit, driving me slowly to that aching edge. Then he stops. Yes, stops. Is he torturing me on purpose? Why?
Once again I yank on his hair. He lifts his head and his eyes have darkened with passion. Full lips gleam with my wetness, and I want to pull him to me and lick them. I want to see what I taste like. Am I sick to want that? He looks so delicious, staring at me so. My belly tightens as I turn into liquid. The picture of him, his mouth so close to my pussy makes me even wetter.
“Don’t interrupt me again, unless you don’t want to come. Do you want to come, Juliette?”
“Yes. Please.” My voice doesn’t even sound like it belongs to me.
His head slowly drops back down, but his eyes stay focused on mine and I can’t stop myself from watching him. I feel him spread my lips, opening me wide, and his tongue swipes me in long laps, up and down. It tunnels deep inside of me, then it’s replaced by a finger, and another. Oh, God, this is so good.
“Kade. Yes. Like that. That’s perfect. Your fingers.”
“Another?”
“No.”
“You’re so sweet, Juliette. Taste.”
Does he read minds? He pushes a finger in my mouth.
“Suck yourself off me. You taste like salted honey.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I do taste salt. I want that finger back inside of me, so I stop sucking.
“Put it back in.”
He grins, then does what I say and his tongue targets my clit. He presses hard and flat on it and massages the thing, as his fingers move in and out.
“Hook your fingers. Find my g-spot.”
“No.”
“Huh?” I’m so into this I can’t believe he refused.
“I’m in control of this and I’m doing it my way.”
Well, damn. What do I say to that?
“But I’m so close. Please?”
He laughs and the vibrations against my pussy feel so good. I start to think of how oral sex was with my ex-boyfriend, and it was never on this level. Kade’s added a new dimension and it’s epic. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed this.
Cool air washes over me as he blows and then begins to lick again. His fingers are circling now, teasing, almost tickling.
“The next time I fuck you, Juliette, you’re going to come, and I’m not going to make a fool out of myself.”
He doesn’t give me an opportunity to respond because his tongue morphs into a ravaging weapon and my clit is ground zero. He leaves nothing unscathed as he goes in for the kill. My body reacts violently when everything bursts into life, echoes of stars exploding, skewing my vision as I climax screaming his name.
I am limp, lifeless, as I lie there, my hands holding onto his hair as though I am afraid to let go … afraid that if I do, I will disappear in some nameless vacuum of space.
“Juliette.”
My name is a whisper, like a breeze over my flesh. His hands unclench my fingers, setting him free from my prison. Soon, he gathers me close and cradles me. I feel cherished.
A voice filled with humor asks, “Can you talk?”
“Barely.”
“Good, huh?”
“No. Damn good.”
His chest rumbles beneath my ear. My body vibrates from it. For the first time in over two years, I’m happy.
“Are you smiling?”
“Uh huh. You would be, too, if you just experienced what I did.”
“But I did. Earlier when you sucked me off.”
“Nope. Not possible.”
Next thing I know, I’m flat on my back, and he hovers over me, resting on his elbows.
“Want to know something?” he asks.
“Yeah. What?”
“You have a fantastic pussy. It’s much better than your singing.”
I giggle. “Thanks. I’ll te
ll Sister Helena you said so.”
He roars. “Oh, God, the visual I’m getting.”
Guilt slams into me and I turn into a wooden board.
Kade feels it. His brow furrows and I immediately want to smooth it. But I don’t. He asks, “What is it?”
“I feel bad about all this. Guilty as sin.”
“I knew you would, but in your own words, you’re not a nun yet. You haven’t taken your vows. Please don’t feel that way. To me it was the most beautiful thing. Don’t ruin it for us.”
That gives me pause. I ruminate over what he said and maybe he’s right. The odds are that I won’t be around much longer anyway, so why shouldn’t I enjoy this? But then guilt charges into me once more. Kade. I’m doing him an injustice. It’s not fair to him.
“I’m not being fair to you. My days are numbered, Kade.”
“You don’t know that. If you say those men are following you, why haven’t they killed you? Why didn’t they break into the house last night and kill us?”
“You have an alarm system. That’s why.”
“There’ve been other opportunities, when you’ve been alone, according to your own words. Why haven’t they taken you then?”
We’re both quiet because I have no answer to that.
He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “What if they’re protecting you and not trying to hurt you?”
“What? But then why did they kill my parents?” I’m not following. The brutal memory lashes my brain and I shudder.
He feels it. Still holding onto my chin, he says, “Stay with me, Juliette. Maybe they aren’t the same men. Have you thought about that?”
But who are they if they aren’t the same?
“I know what you’re thinking and I don’t know the answers. This is all supposition. I’m trying to figure this out, too. But I believe what you tell me, Juliette. I believe someone is tracking you and maybe it’s for that necklace, but maybe it isn’t. No doubt there’s a reason. You don’t know everything. Maybe your dad was involved with something you know nothing about. I also believe that whoever killed your parents surely would’ve found you by now. Think about it. If they had the power to wipe them off the face of the Earth, like you said, why couldn’t they find you? Yes, you did all the right things but still. The power they have could’ve outweighed the street smarts you used. I believe the men who murdered your family would’ve gotten to you already if you haven’t had some type of protection. Whether or not it’s those shadows you refer to, I can’t say.”
A vision explodes in my head. Not so much a vision, but more like a cacophony of sounds. Growls, like animals fighting and then voices in a foreign language.
“Oh crap! This morning. When I passed out in the snow. I heard animals growling.”
“You asked me if I heard them when I brought you back here. I thought you were talking out of your head.”
I close my eyes and try to recall the bits and pieces. It’s foggy, nothing clear. “Yes, at first I thought they were animals, but then they morphed into men’s voices. Talking in a foreign language. I thought they were wolves or something, fighting, but then they were yelling at each other, in some language.”
“That’s it?”
My hands dig into my hair. I want to remember more, but there’s nothing.
We look at each other, trying to figure it all out.
“I’m not sure what to make of it, though,” I add.
“Maybe I do,” Kade says. “Maybe the group protecting you was warding the other group off. And if that’s the case, then I’m right.”
My old friend fear returns, flooding me, crawling through my body like a million biting, pinching beetles, chewing at me from the insides out.
Kade rolls to the side and says, “Don’t! Don’t be afraid.”
“They found me then.”
“But nothing happened! I won’t let anything happen.”
“If they ever get to me, you won’t be able to stop them. Whoever they are, they’ll take me and do whatever they need or want.”
“I think they found you two years ago. Followed you from New Orleans. Been here from the beginning. Answer me this. How long have you been seeing those shadows?”
The thought is so disturbing, I don’t want to admit that he’s right. I noticed them right away. Near the convent, the church, everywhere I went. That’s when I thought I was psycho, really crazy. My imagination ran rampant back then, finding them everywhere, in the leaves on trees, in playgrounds. Even under the desks in the school. I’d have anxiety attacks, hyperventilate, run to the bathroom to escape, but they’d be there too, hiding behind stall doors, waiting. It was excruciating to be alone. I’d cling to anyone I could and try explaining that one away. I lied and told everyone it was from being raised in an orphanage. That I had never gotten over my separation anxiety.
All the nuns came to accept my odd behavior after a time. But when I began venturing out on my own, volunteering, it was my form of mental persecution. At first, I couldn’t walk. I ran everywhere, arriving sweaty and out of breath. I lied again, saying I was trying to use my time to get in shape. It was Denver after all, where lots of outdoorsy people lived, and they believed me. Eventually I got to a place when I let go a bit. I learned to live with the shadows and morphing shapes, the ever-changing contours that shifted into whatever they wanted to be.
“Since the beginning here. From the start.”
“Trust them, Juliette.”
“Trust them? They scare the crap out of me. I don’t even know what they are! Every time I focus on them, they change.”
“How so?”
“I can’t explain it, but if I go outside right now, I bet they’re in your back yard.”
“Show me.”
We get dressed and go out back. I pan the back yard, and try to show him, but they change so swiftly, it’s impossible for him to follow. When I start to shiver, he moves me back inside.
“I have an idea,” he murmurs in my ear. “Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. We go into his bedroom and into his closet. It’s huge by any standards, but on one wall there is a window. Again, he whispers in my ear, “Here’s my phone, and it’s open to the camera setting. Look through the blinds and see if you can capture anything on camera.”
Grinning, I snatch it out of his hand and begin my surveillance. The window gives a bird’s eye view and it should be easy to see, but it’s not. I seem to be looking at an ever-changing landscape. One minute a bench in the yard is in one area and the next, it’s somewhere else entirely. I start to snap away. Then I see them. They merge with the environment, flowing and ebbing like water. What are they? Are they real or just shadows moving with the sun? I keep pressing the button to grab the images. Ten minutes later we move the to bed to have a look.
“Did you get anything?” he asks quietly.
“Oh, yeah. Look. I took about a dozen.”
When he opens up the app, it’s blank. Nothing’s there.
“That’s impossible. That bench, the wrought iron one? It moved. I swear and I took two pictures of it to show you.”
“Not here. Not a single photo.”
“How can that be?” I jump up and run back to the window, but now when I look out, I see nothing out of the ordinary. I scream out of frustration.
“They don’t want to be found.”
“You think?”
I could rip out my hair by the roots, I’m that angry. For the first time in two years, there was a possibility that I could share what I see with someone and this happens.
“Do you believe I took those pictures?”
He looks at me for a second without answering.
“You don’t, do you? You think it was operator error,” I accuse.
“I didn’t say that. You’re putting words into my mouth.”
“You didn’t have to say it. Do you think I’m making this up?”
“No! I didn’t say that either.”
My posture sags. I deflat
e because all my hopes for proof of this just poofed away in a flash. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’d believe you.”
“You’d probably think I was hitting the drugs again, but you’re not an addict. There’s a difference between us.”
Our discussion is interrupted by Kade’s phone ringing. He looks at it and says, “Father Anthony. I can imagine what this call’s about.”
“Father Anthony. Enjoying the snow?”
Pause.
“I’m sure she did. But I refused to drive and for your information, Emmalia did strike out on her own, against my wishes, and I found her nearly unconscious in the snow. I brought her back here and her body temperature was ninety-six degrees, which is almost hypothermic. If I hadn’t found her when I did, I’m not sure what would’ve happened.”
Pause.
“No, sir. I think Sister Helena needs to have more reasonable expectations when Emmalia is walking everywhere. Now I’m happy to drive her, but not in a blizzard with white out conditions, or when the roads are impassible.”
Pause.
“I agree and that’s exactly what I told her. And you know, Father, I have a four bedroom house.”
Pause.
“Thank you and I’ll let her know.”
Kade ends the call and he’s smiling. “Father Anthony is on our side and was appalled at Sister Helena. And he was upset that you actually tried to walk home. You are to stay here until I feel it’s safe to drive. That may be weeks.”
I smack him on the shoulder. “Would you mind if I took a shower?”
“Not at all. Make yourself at home.” He indicates his bathroom by extending his arm.
It’s a new world for me, compared with the communal bathroom at the convent I’m used to. There’s a huge jetted tub and a shower with a multitude of nozzles that I’m not sure how they all work. I don’t even know how to turn the thing on.
“Kade? Kade? Are you still out there?”
“Yeah, hang on.”
A few minutes pass and he walks in carrying some more clothes for me.
“Oh, thanks. How does this work?”
The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart: A Hart Brothers Novel Page 11
