Banged Up

by Jeanne St. James

  “Are you a cop?”

  Mace shook his head. He gave a longing look over at the remote.

  “Are you in the armed forces?”

  “No.” He looked up at the ceiling and let out a long breath. He was so searching for a distraction.

  She wasn’t going to give it to him. “Am I going to have to play twenty questions with you?”

  “No. I can tell you this.” He twisted toward her and pinned her with a stare. “I work for an agency.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. Yeah, right. This guy was a secret agent.

  Like James Bond, right? He had to be pulling her leg. She’d play along. “Agency? What kind of agency? A travel agency? A talent agency?”

  “Come on, Colby,” he said, frowning. “It’s sort of secret. I do things which are classified. I can’t talk about.”

  My God, it was true! Colby sank back into the couch. She couldn’t straighten out her thoughts. What did he mean? A “sort of” secret agency? No one was “sort of” a secret agent. Either you were or you weren’t. Was she living with some kind of spy? Was he working for some kind of government agency?

  “Do you go undercover? Is that why you haven’t had contact with Maxi for two years?” Maybe he was undercover now. Who was he really? Was she in the middle of some sort of sting? Her heart started racing.

  Mace groaned. “Colby, please don’t ask. I won’t be able to tell you and it’s better if you don’t know anyway.”

  Colby turned to study his face. “Are you really Macen Walker, or is this some kind of alias? Are you really Maxi’s brother?”

  Mace rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m really Macen Walker. I thought we went through this the first night.”

  Colby suddenly felt horrible about the way she had treated him in the beginning.

  “And I thought you were a criminal! Here you are risking your life—”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Shhh.”

  She jerked her head away. “No, don’t shush me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for thinking you were a … a…”

  “Colby, it’s all right. I’m a big boy; I can take a little ribbing.”

  “No, it’s not all right. Here you are in constant pain. And don’t lie to me and say you aren’t. I wondered why you limped every once in a while. I wondered why you struggle to do something as easy as walking up the stairs…”

  Colby felt the sting of tears. She was not going to cry. She was not. She did not want to look like a baby. An overemotional big baby.

  Damn it. She tried to catch a runaway tear but one escaped before she could brush it away.

  —

  Mace caught the tear on his finger and stared at it. He was touched by Colby’s emotion. No one but his sister had really cared about him in a long time. Or cared what happened to him. An unfamiliar ache swelled in his chest.

  But he didn’t want to do this right now. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to open up an emotional Cracker Jack box. He’d only known this woman for a few days. He really needed his sister. This was the reason why he’d come home. He needed an emotional and a physical Band-Aid. “Don’t cry for me, Colby. I survived. Otherwise, we’d never have met. For some reason I think we can help each other right now. I’m trying to heal and I think you are too, in some way.”

  Colby shook her head, but looked away.

  Mace grasped her chin and turned her to look deeply into her eyes. “Yes, there’s something in there. Some kind of pain of your own. I think it’s the reason why you’re getting so involved in your house. Every little thing about that house is a crisis needing to be solved.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek. He caught her teary gaze before lowering his voice to just above a whisper. “Why? What has happened to you, Colby Parks?”

  “N-nothing.”

  He didn’t believe her. She had been hurt—maybe not like him, physically—but maybe mentally or emotionally. Not just hurt, but hurt badly. He had been hurt by people who hated him, could care less about him. He assumed she was hurt by someone she loved. Or cared for. Someone close to her.

  Her reddened eyes matched the tip of her nose. A couple more tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. He desperately wanted to lean over and kiss those tears away. He wanted to haul her against him and hug her hard. To clasp her until the demons were squeezed out of both of them. He wanted to lose himself in her and just feel; forget everything else but the two of them. But he didn’t want to overwhelm her either, since he was so desperate for her touch. He didn’t trust himself if he reached out first. She had to make the first move.

  She did.

  Colby brushed the back of her fingers along his whiskered chin. Tilting her head, she followed her hand with her eyes.

  Mace reached up and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips. “You promised to kiss it and make it feel better. I can understand if you don’t want to. It’s pretty hideous.”

  Colby shook her head slightly. She stared at his misshapen thigh for a few seconds before leaning down and placing her warm lips against his skin.

  Mace leaned back, closing his eyes. His hands dug into her hair, gripping her braid firmly. As Colby’s lips fluttered to different areas of his thigh, he released a groan. She turned her face and rubbed her soft cheek against his scarred skin.

  “Oh, God, Colby. Don’t stop,” he whispered brokenly. “Please don’t stop.”

  Colby turned her face again, until her other cheek rested on his leg. She looked up at him. Mace felt it and opened his eyes, looking into hers. Her tears had stopped. She looked and felt so good lying across his lap. He wanted to stay that way forever. His body had other ideas.

  He took her hand, which was gripping his good thigh, and moved it over slightly until she could feel how much he wanted her. God, he wanted her. Right here, right now.

  He wanted to plunge deep and hard into her softness and just lose himself.

  Colby’s fingers closed around him through the soft worn denim of his shorts and he thrust upward. His breathing deepened and his head fell back against the couch. “Colby … let me go if you don’t want this to continue. It’s been a while since…”

  “For me too.”

  Her words caused hot lightning to shoot to every part of his body. He hooked his hands behind her elbows and drew her up. She was careful not to lean on his bad thigh.

  Mace rolled the elastic band off the end of her French braid, releasing the cords of hair one by one. Her breathing had become shallow and her nipples were like pebbles ready to be touched—by his tongue, his lips and his hands. When he was finished undoing her braid, he spread her deep-red hair around her shoulders, holding a few strands to his nostrils and inhaling the sweet scent he was beginning to recognize as her own. “God, I want to feel this soft, glorious hair all over my body.”

  With trembling hands, he slowly unbuttoned her blouse until it hung open, exposing her white, lacy bra. Her large, dark nipples were just visible through the delicate fabric.

  Just enough to torture him. He drew a finger along the edges, barely touching her skin.

  And when she arched her back, he couldn’t resist releasing the front clasp. Her breasts escaped and he sat back to just look at them. They were perfect in his eyes. Round and full, puckered with need.

  He gently brushed a finger against one dark tip. Colby squirmed, whispering his name. She reached up, her hands delving into his hair, and pulled his face toward her. She showed him what she wanted, what she desired, but was unable to ask for.

  Mace flicked his tongue out, tasting one flushed bud, then the other. Slowly he drew a nipple into his mouth, savoring the taste and feel. Colby gripped his head tightly, holding him where she wanted him. She tilted her head back to give him full access. He used the advantage, loving one, then the other, over and over until Colby bucked against him and cried out. She was on the brink of release.

  It wouldn’t take much for him either. His cock was so hard, wanting to get out, wanting a release of its own. He knew he had to keep
control but it was hard. So hard.

  “Colby, I don’t know if I can…”

  Colby placed her lips against his, stopping his words. He savored her sweet mouth, drawing her lower lip in and nibbling on it. His tongue dipped in, swirling against hers.

  He moved his hands to her hips. He wanted her on top of him, straddling him. He wanted her hot pussy pressed against his cock, even if there was a layer of clothes between them.

  Mace was easing her closer when he stiffened and cursed. “Damn it!” He leaned back away from her, breaking their contact. His attempt to laugh it off failed miserably.

  The cramp in his thigh was too overwhelming; the pain was sharp, shooting through his remaining muscles like lightning. He dropped his head. In regret, in embarrassment. In frustrating unmet need. Fuck.

  “I’m sorry, Colby. There’s one feeling which overcomes desire and it’s pain.”

  Colby shifted away from him, her eyelids still heavy from need. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” He made a fist, cursing again. “Oh, God, I want you so much.”

  “I know, I know.” She brushed his hair off his forehead. “We’ve got to take it slow. Maybe it’s better this way.”

  “No, it’s not, believe me. I’ve got two places that hurt. One we can ease. The other we can’t. The problem is the one we can’t help is the one ruling my life right now.”

  “Should I get your pills?” Colby stood, refastening her bra and closing her shirt.

  Mace felt like screaming. Not from the pain, but from the hurt on Colby’s face. From the way she was trying to hide it. From having to give up, when he was so close to fucking the hell out of this beautiful woman.

  Damn the bastard who shot him. Hopefully he was rotting in hell where Mace had sent him. On a one-way ticket.

  He didn’t argue when Colby helped him up the stairs and into his room. He lay on his bed, clenching the comforter, his thigh muscle going into spasms. He wanted to scream every curse in the book, but ground his teeth instead. He was one who didn’t like to lose control of a situation. And he was damned if he was going to let this pain control him.

  But he admitted to himself he was relieved when Colby returned with a glass of water. She grabbed the pills from his dresser and, after reading the label, gave him two.

  She sat down by his side and waited until the spasms subsided.

  A few minutes later, Mace unclenched his jaws enough to thank her.

  “Do you need me to help you undress?”

  “No. I think you’ve helped me enough,” he snapped. He instantly regretted his tone when she made a little wounded sound. He grabbed her hand, halting her escape. “Colby, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I appreciate the help you’ve given me. I would love for you to take my clothes off,” and see you with your shirt off again; I would love to suck and lick your breasts, those nipples, “but not right now. Not in this type of situation. I hope we would both enjoy it a lot more.” Mace still felt like a heel. He didn’t want her to leave him just yet. “Please. Stay with me a little while.” He patted the bed next to him. “Lie next to me.”

  Colby looked at him skeptically.

  “Come on. I’m harmless right now and it’ll make me feel better.”

  “Just for a little while,” she said, carefully lying down next to him. She lay in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest.

  This woman felt so right in his arms. She was so warm and soft. Perfect.

  His breathing deepened, and before he knew it he was asleep.

  ———

  Mace jerked awake. A heavy weight pressed down on his chest. His hand automatically moved to push it off, but connected with hair. And skin. Warm, smooth skin.

  He turned his head toward the alarm clock on the nightstand. 12:15. He wiggled his fingers into the plait of her braid and he heard Colby sigh in her sleep. The room was dark, but he didn’t remember turning off the light. Had she? Had she gotten up and turned it off and still felt comfortable enough with him to cuddle up next to him? She had to have gotten up at some point. Her hair was back in the tight, controlled braid of hers.

  Oh, yeah. Her still being in his room meant she was definitely more at ease around him. He didn’t mind the dark. Lose one sense and the others make up for it. He might not be able to see her, but he could feel her and smell her sweet scent.

  Her head was settled on his chest, her hot breath going in and out of her parted lips.

  It rustled the hairs around his nipple, making it pebble and tighten. Suddenly he was very aware of where the rest of her body was. Her shoulder was tucked under his armpit and her breasts were pushed into his left side. Her lower body was away from his legs, probably to not cause him any further pain in his thigh.

  She had one arm draped over his bare waist, her hand resting on his right hip. He reached over and stroked her arm from shoulder to fingertip. He grasped her fingers and slid her palm over his bare lower stomach, letting it settle on the V of hair inversely rising out of his cut-offs. Her fingers twitched in her sleep and he was suddenly very, very hard.

  And crooked. He adjusted himself which brought the head of his cock so close to her fingers. So close.

  His left arm was draped behind her and he brushed his fingers along the small of her back, dipping them into the gap between her shorts and her skin. He spread his fingers until he brushed the tips along the top of where her ass cheeks met. He was so tempted to stroke along its crevice until he found her tight hole. He would guess it had never been touched by any man. Instead, he traced the skin along the edge of her waistband to the front. To her soft belly. He circled his thumb around her navel. And with the third pass, he stretched the rest of his fingers out. They were long enough to slide between her shorts and panties. His fingertips brushed against the thin elastic band—he wondered if they were pink satin.

  Colby shifted, and her breathing quickened. It felt like little puffs of steam crossing his skin; a telltale sign she was awake. Either that or her body thought she was in a really, really good dream. He rolled onto his left hip, gently laying her on her back. He folded her arms over her head onto the pillow. He couldn’t see if her eyes were open, but he drew a thumb along her jaw line and then over her lips. They were parted and he swore he felt her tongue against the pad of his thumb. He dipped his thumb in and … she nipped him. His cock twitched against the tight confines of his boxer briefs. It wanted to come out to play so badly.

  Mace drew one hand down her neck and traced her collarbone, one side and then the other before he followed the outer curve of her breast. He used his other hand to pop the top button of his shorts and slide the zipper down. He shoved his underwear out of the way, his fingers sliding over the head of his cock, slippery with pre-come. He fisted the head and pushed hard into his palm, arching his hips off the bed.

  He stroked himself; long, slow strokes with his left hand, while using his right hand to continue its course around the curve of her breast. He circled and circled, smaller and smaller, until he was just tracing the edge of her areola through her shirt and bra. He brought his finger and thumb together to pinch the hard center. She gasped and he felt a hand on top of his. She said nothing, and he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to continue or stop. But she pushed his hand, not off, but to her other breast. He squeezed that one too.

  Her breath came broken through her lips and she gave a small moan.

  One palm stayed on his left hand to encourage while the other found his right hand still stroking the length of his erection. Her fingers felt along his wrist down to his fingertips, and she worked her own underneath his to take over the stroking. Her hand was smaller, so much smaller, but, damn, it felt so good. She circled the head, collecting some pre-come, using it to lubricate the rest of his shaft while she stroked from root to tip.

  Without breaking contact, he settled above her, catching her lips, her warm breath, and her gasps as he twisted and plucked her nipples. Their tongues tangled and fou
ght, stroking against each other until they were both gasping for air.

  He pushed her shirt and bra up over her breasts, moving down to replace his fingers with his mouth on her exposed nipple. He suckled and nudged and licked until she squirmed. She pulled on his cock harder and faster and more pre-come leaked out, making her fist slick like a tight little pussy. He was losing his mind. The faster she stroked the faster he sucked her nipples. He raked his teeth against the hard tip and felt her body convulse. Her fist squeezed down on his cock so hard, he thought the head would pop off.

  With a groan he yanked away from her, quickly going to his knees between her calves. He ripped her cotton shorts and panties down and she kicked them free from one leg and then the other. He shoved his shoulders into the backs of her thighs, pushing them up while spreading them wide, opening her up to him. He wished the light was on; he wanted to see her flushed, plump flesh. Just by feel alone, he could tell she was trimmed, but not shaved; he really wanted to see the fire red hair framing all her goodies. Next time, he promised himself.

  She smelled hot and ready, a musky scent which made him want to come right then and there. He pushed the thought out of his head and stretched out between her legs. He was going to enjoy the feast. He ran a finger along her wet slit, up and down, up and down, a little deeper each time until the tip of his finger brushed against her swollen clit.

  Her hips jerked. He used an arm to wrap around her thigh and across her hips to keep her in place.

  He dived right in; his lips finding her little pleasure button and he plucked at it, sucked at it. His tongue danced along the edge and flicked, making her squirm against him. His ran two fingers over her slick folds, dipped them in quickly before continuing on to her anus. He circled the tight hole with his damp fingers. He so wanted to break that barrier, but it was too soon. He made his way back up and slid them home into her pussy, as deep as he could get them. His lips, tongue and teeth continued to play with her clit.