“Ooookay.”
Blaze sighs again and runs a hand through his hair before meeting my eyes dead on and holding them. I have the urge to look away because his eyes are just that intense, but I don’t because I think he may be gauging my reactions and daring me to pull back.
Challenge accepted.
“I like being in control, and no, it’s not what you think. I’m not into domination and submission, so don’t even try to label me with that shit,” he warns.
“Er, okay. I don’t get it though.”
I’ve read about that stuff, and while it’s hot in books, I so do not see myself being meek and freaking obedient just to get a guy off. I like being a participant in bed, and the truth is I don’t think I’d be all that good at trying to stifle myself.
Also, the whole punishment and spanking thing? I’d cold cock a bitch for even thinking of touching my ass with anything but adoration, and that’s just a fact. I don’t do pain as a turn on, and I don’t get turned on by someone wailing on my butt cheeks.
No judgment again, since I don’t think of it as bad if that’s what other folks enjoy; it’s just not me.
“I like control in bed because I like doing things that may seem over the top but are for pleasure only,” he explains.
Is it just me, or is the man being vague here? I’m curious as hell suddenly because, yeah, I want to know and also I think if I knew what he’s talking about, I might know just how to get what I want. Mercenary, but fair, since I know that if he weren’t so opposed to sex with me, he’d have used any means to seduce me already.
“Okay. Still not understanding here, Blaze.”
“Dammit. I like to wallow, okay?”
Oh God, yes, me too! Now I get it! Blaze is a sensualist. He’s one of those guys who get turned on by sinking deep and going all out with the sex. I took this class in college to make up a few extra credits, and the only thing I found at all interesting about the subject of sexuality was this chapter about people who take earthy to a whole ‘nother level.
“Like…like…?”
I can’t even finish my sentence; I’m so turned on by the thought of him wallowing in me.
“Dammit,” he snarls, getting up to stalk to the bathroom door before turning and coming back, stopping just feet away as if the distance is necessary.
I don’t miss his erection though, or the way his blue eyes seem to have caught fire, making that name of his all kinds of appropriate.
“Just tell me already. I won’t tell a soul, and like you said, it doesn’t mean you’d agree to anything, so it’s not like you’re going to have to do anything about it.”
“If I touched you? I’d touch you everywhere just because the feel of your skin against mine would be pleasurable. If I go down on you, it wouldn’t be to get you off but because I want my face planted in you, and I’d probably just lick you for hours because I want to taste and touch you. Sex for me isn’t about the release; it’s about the submersion of the senses. I don’t think you could handle that, Evie, and honestly, I don’t know if I can go back to that now and not crave it after. I’ve worked hard to deny myself and going there is not something I want to risk.”
“Because of her?” I ask in a husky voice, my heart pounding at the idea of being completely at his mercy without the promise of relief in sight.
Could I do that, even knowing that he’d probably drive me crazy with lust and could deny me climax for hours? I don’t know, and honestly, I’m a little scared of the emotional significance of it.
I’m no dummy. I know what this would entail, and since he’s clear about who he is, I could be risking a lot more than a crush that has only grown in the day I’ve known him.
I could get caught up in him only to be left alone again, and for me that is a real trigger to scurry away and regroup till I’m not in danger anymore. It’s a result of having a family, and then—not. Of my brother finding me, and yet not really being there more than financially.
I’ve always been alone. That’s why the relationships I build are so important to me, because I cultivate them—without fail—to ensure that they don’t just leave like everyone else has.
Can I do this with him, submerse myself completely and walk away from it whole, without leaving some of me behind? Probably not, but I am an optimist so I choose, maybe foolishly, to believe that I have a shot at more when all is said and done.
“Yes, and also because of me,” he finally answers stoically, sitting down again to face me. “My ex-wife—”
“Her name?”
“Cheating whore,” he snarls, making me burst out with a startled giggle that morphs into a laugh he can’t fail to smile at.
When Blaze smiles, it’s truly a glorious sight. His whole face changes and takes on this light that I want to bask in, and also I would probably kill myself trying to get him to smile more often.
You’re in deep trouble if you’re that sappy this quickly, Evie.
Yeah, but what a way to go, I think, watching his face morph again.
“She was everything I wanted, at least I thought so. She never once complained about what we did in bed, and I thought we were perfect together. I was happy, really happy, so what happened almost killed me, Evie. To have her throw me over so callously was one thing, but to have her tell me…she called me a few things that made me feel ashamed and lacking. I won’t have that again, I can’t. I’m strong, but I’m just a man and I feel too.”
“Of course you do! Especially…”
Since you’re a sensual being who feels with so much intensity, I finish silently, not ready to risk getting so deep, just in case he doesn’t take it well. The man is prickly as a freaking cactus, and I am averse to getting pricked by his barbs.
“Especially,” he says, smiling slightly.
Darn it. Can I say—without the police arriving on my doorstep with a straight jacket—that I would dearly love to tie bitch-whore to a post and beat her bloody with some sex whips?
Well, I do. I want to kick her ass for making this man feel like he’s got something to be ashamed of. That thought right there sparks a light bulb, and I sigh to myself now, knowing without a doubt that I want this with Blaze if only to show him that he can be himself without shame.
I want to fix him, and yes, it hurts a little to think that I could do that only to wave goodbye with him going off to wallow in someone else.
Stupid feeeeelings.
“Well, Peters, here’s what I think. I think that while I’m not some experienced hard-eyed woman, I am one who has no problem with some over-the-top wallowing. Uh-uh, let me finish. I won’t harangue you about this. I just want to say that I am so on board for that. I’ve never had a man so into me that he revels in my body. I could really dig that, and you could ruin me for other men.” I giggle. “But I get your flow, man. I totally do. And all I can say is it pisses me off and saddens me that a hedonist like you has been surviving off crackers and water when caviar is your speed.”
Oh, I want caviar. So bad, so, so bad my freaking panties are soaked and all I’ve done is listen to him.
“I’m sorry too. Just, shit, I don’t want to hurt you or anything, and believe me when I say, Evie, you are testing my resolve. You’re hot, built just how I like a woman, and so open I just know we’d set the sheets on fire. If I chose to, which I don’t.”
I guess that’s the credits then, I think as he rises and leaves me sitting in my chair, disappointed and saddened, not for my loss but for his.
Chapter Nine
Blaze
She’s been working for hours without respite now as I pretend to work on my own investigation. I say pretend because I haven’t been able to focus on a damn thing but the memory of her nipples beading and her breathing going erratic as I told her what I would do to her.
I just about fell to my knees and attacked her when she unconsciously shifted in her chair and opened her thighs, the smell of her arousal tickling my nose, making me ache for the sensory overload I haven’t
experienced in years.
“Blaze? Phone!” Evie yells, making me curse and rise to stomp into her room when it’s the last thing I want to do right now.
I’ve avoided her all afternoon and even forced myself not to get hung up on the fact that she hasn’t eaten because I didn’t want to come in here and risk it before I got myself in check.
She looks edible and so damn cute with her glasses slipping low on her nose and her hair coming loose as she shoves the phone at me with a grunt.
“Get the ass to see reason, would you?”
“I am seeing reason!” Jericho yells into the phone, deafening me.
“What.”
“Well, hello to you too, asshole. Listen, she refuses to agree to look at places here in Mayberry. Tell her the commute is not bad, and she’d be better off here where her family is than in that shithole.”
“Dude, the woman is an adult with her own life,” I point out, though I want to say just that to her anyway.
And that scares me, wanting her to move to my town just to know she’d be close and I could look out for her. Protectiveness aside, I’d also be happy knowing she’d be closer to me.
Fucking awesome. Get your shit together, man. This woman is a job.
“Dammit, Blaze, you know I’m right.”
“Look, what is this argument about, and why now when she’s about to come your way soon enough anyway?” I mutter, stalking to the kitchen.
Evie looks beat, and dammit, she hasn’t eaten, I think, grabbing bread and sandwich fixings as I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“She hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?” I huff, getting two sandwiches together quickly before starting on my own.
Jericho is silent for long seconds before cursing.
“That boutique she’s pitching to on Friday moved the meet to next Monday because one of their buyers can’t be there. That makes coming out here on Friday afternoon a no-go. Evie’s already agreed to the moved meeting, and I don’t…dammit, I don’t like it!”
Neither do I, I think as I slam a plate down on her desk and glare at her. She has the grace to blush and duck her head, but I don’t miss her giggle as she grabs a sandwich and takes a huge bite.
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. This is bullshit. You find anything?”
“Nope.”
I stalk back to the kitchen after another glare at Evie and grab my sandwich and soda before digging in and checking my own phone.
“Lex looked into that phone call, but it wasn’t traceable.”
“Dammit. Anything else to go on? We’re ex-Army, and Lex is supposed to know this shit. How can we not find a thing?”
I snarl my own silent frustration and roll my shoulders to relieve the tension.
“The phone was a burner that King tracked down to the landfill, man. That route was dead by Friday night as far as I can tell, and no way would we have found the thing to dust for prints in that garbage pile anyway. I have to be content with hoping that the cameras Gus installed around the building will pick something up.”
Because we have no leads and neither do the cops, though Harris has been busting ass to find something, no matter how small it may be.
“Send the feed my way, and I’ll get King to help me look at it.”
“Fine, but you stay out of this unless you’re willing to come up here and take over. I don’t like backseat drivers on my jobs.”
“Send me the fucking feed.”
The line goes dead on his snarl, and I grin as I toss the phone and finish eating, my eyes going to Evie’s open door for the hundredth time.
So the little sneak rescheduled her meetings without telling me, huh? I should smack her little butt for daring to do that when she swore she’d be ready to leave by Friday but, and here’s my gripe, I find myself happy that the time I was dreading running out of has been dragged out some.
Three more days with her? I feel like I’ve won a fucking prize instead of getting upset by the added time that is encroaching on yet more of my leave time.
“Evie! Get out here, you little shit.”
She skips out with a grin, knocking me for a loop when she falls down beside me and smiles sheepishly.
“Don’t yell at me, Peters. Please? I couldn’t do a thing about it. Kimber called and told me about the change, and it’s not something I have control over unless I scrap that boutique completely and give up the opportunity to supply them with my designs.”
I hate that I understand and don’t even mind the delay, though it bugs me a little to have her here for so long without the safety that Mayberry and the team will provide.
That’s the real problem and Jericho’s gripe. I’m here, and I’ve set the security as best I can, but it’s not—by any means—ideal. What would be ideal would be for her to already be out of town where she can’t be found.
Shit.
“I’ll compromise with you, Evie. I won’t have a shit fit about this, and I will help you keep that appointment on Monday if you agree to come home with me tomorrow after your first meeting.”
“But—”
“I’ll bring you back into the city on Wednesday for the other meeting, and then on Monday for the last one, but we won’t be here between meetings.”
She huffs and scowls at me, her arms folding mutinously.
“You just had your pal install the security system, Blaze, and besides, I am not going with you only to land on Jericho’s doorstep. I stayed over one night when they got married and I almost clawed my own ears out. They’re loud, Blaze, and talkative during sex,” she says, gagging comically.
I laugh without thought and shake my head at her dramatics, really loving that Evie has such a weird sense of humor. Gus almost wet himself laughing about some joke she told him earlier on that I didn’t get at all. I suppose my sense of humor is a little lacking lately, but I just don’t get what a monk, a nun, and a serial killer have in common, no matter how many times he tried to tell me why it’s funny.
“Calm down there, lady. I said home—with me. I have a guestroom—or three—and space for you to work as well. We can leave directly after your meeting in the morning and be there in just under two hours. My place is secure, and Jericho would feel better about the situation. Compromise.”
She frowns and mulls that over for a while before sighing and falling down with her eyes closed.
“Fine. But I refuse to deal with my brother if he arrives on the doorstep with demands. That’s all you, Peters, and I swear, you better make it clear that we’re rooming together, or I will kick your ass and set your house on fire if I end up hearing Cleo and Jericho fucking.”
Another laugh bubbles up, cut off by something that’s been bugging me for a while, though I’ve tried my damnedest to ignore the curiosity.
“Deal. If you tell me why you named your vibrator buddy bear.”
Her blush is ten different shades as she peels one eye open and glares.
“Not cool.”
“But a deal breaker, I think.”
“Christ. Fine. Kimber’s ex-girlfriend got it for me two years ago as a joke. The thing isn’t really a vibrator, more an egg or whatever. They got me one with a little bear face on it and laughed their asses off at the punch line.”
“Punch line?”
I’m being a bastard as I push for an answer, I know, and I almost choke to death for my spite when she grins and her eyes go dreamy.
“Bears like honey, Peters. You figure it out.”
***
Evaline
I should be fast asleep and getting much needed sleep to prepare for tomorrow, but as the bedside clock reads eleven, I roll over one more time and glare at the lamp with a growl.
Blaze chickened out on me and is bunking on the couch, and I’m getting retinal damage from the light that won’t allow me to fall asleep, as well as the fact that I’m still aroused from this afternoon no matter what I do to tell myself to forget Blaze and those words of his.
Hedonist. Sensualist. Wallowing.
They keep repeating over and over, and with them come images of him doing things to me that have me panting and ready to scream for relief. The lube catches my eye as I roll over for the hundredth and one time, and I give up on modesty with a muffled scream.
I need to do something about this before I go nuts, and I haven’t heard a peep from the living room for the last hour and a half so Blaze must be asleep.
I shouldn’t. I can’t. It’s wrong to masturbate with a man sleeping a room away.
I have to though, because no way will I fall asleep with this ache centered in my sex, and dammit, this is his fault anyway! Why couldn’t he just be like any other guy and jump at the chance to get laid?
I mean…
I made it so easy…
My hand is full of buddy bear before I can blink and the lube is already open by the time I decide I shouldn’t be doing this. Just once. I just need one orgasm before I lose my mind, I think, pushing the covers away, along with my panties as heat and need bombard me.
Buddy is quiet, hardly making a buzzing peep as I spread my legs and flick him on, going right for the empty ache in my opening before pulling him up through my slit and onto my clit.
The vibrations are so good I can’t help a moan, grabbing a pillow to muffle it as pleasure hits me. Oh, so good, so good, I groan silently as tingles hit and ecstatic pleasure starts pulsing in my sex.
I move it around, dragging it up, down, side to side over my bud, as need builds and builds in me. I feel empty and aching inside, but I can deal with that as long as I get some relief from this torture.
The pillow over my face muffles my scream as I climax, and I feel my whole sex convulse in bliss for a brief yet satisfying orgasm that leaves me spent and languid.
When I can breathe without moaning and buddy becomes too much for my sensitive nerves I turn him off and close my legs, pulling the pillow away with a sigh.
That turns into a screech when I look up to meet blazing blue eyes and so much anger I almost melt beneath his stare. Then, of course, I get embarrassed because well, shit, he just caught me doing myself.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 38
