by W Winters
“That’s your limit?” I ask her, bringing my fingers back up to her clit, watching as her eyes go half lidded and she exhales with pleasure. My fingers drift back down and press against her slick entrance slightly before she nods a yes to my question.
Her control is as surprising as my restraint. If I hadn’t decided I wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, not until she truly begs for it, she’d be screaming my name as I ravaged her on the carpet beneath me. Maybe bent over the coffee table to leave bruises on her hips as a reminder. Making sure she’d feel it tomorrow, so it would be all she could think about.
I need to be gentle today. I’ll ease her in until she’s drowning in the pleasure I’m so desperate to give her.
She can barely breathe. Her gasps and held breaths are making her body tremble just as much as my touches are.
“Cum.” My singular word bites through the air as I land a hard smack on her clit and then capture her scream of pleasure with my own kiss. My kiss is more ruthless than hers as I let my tongue delve into her hot mouth. It’s quick like hers though; I pull back both the kiss and my touch, just as soon as it began.
She can barely keep herself still, her body begging her to move away from the sensation, but she needs more. Pulling her shirt down, I move her bra so it pushes her breast up, and before she can object I lean forward and swirl my tongue around her nipple. Her thighs move together and stagger to the side.
Still sucking on her, I smack her thigh with the back of my hand, pushing her legs open and moving my hand to cup her pussy.
Letting her nipple out of my mouth with a pop, I pull back to tell her, “Your cunt is soaking wet for me,” and rub ruthless circles around her clit, making her brow pinch, her mouth open and her body shudder with another climax.
Her entire body spasms with the second orgasm. And I can barely fucking stand to watch with how hard I am. Everything in me begs me to shove my cock down her throat.
Still panting and struggling, Bethany lets her hands fall forward and then quickly moves them back into place on the arm of the sofa. Her eyes search mine for direction with a desperate apology to forgive her swimming in their darkness.
In answer, I pull the tie loose. She came, she let me touch her. I need to get the hell out of here before I fuck her and ruin it all before it’s even begun.
“Next time will be more intense. You should prepare yourself.”
Her first words as I reach for the contract, still on the table, bring a genuine smirk to my lips. “You didn’t ask your question.”
“I know.”
It’s quiet for a moment as I tuck the contract into my back pocket.
“Why are you doing this?” Her bright eyes are wide and full of fire. Full of an intense desire and a curiosity that are addictive. Every look she gives me brings out more life, more heat, more passion in me to coax more of this from her. She burns like wildfire and I want to add fuel to her flame.
“I wanted you to see why I let you live. What I wanted from you against that foyer wall after you pulled that trigger.” Although her chest rises and falls rapidly, the memory of yesterday adding fear into the cocktail of emotions she’s drunk on, the golden flecks in her hazel eyes stay lit. Her lips part slightly, and I know the memory only gets her off just like it does to me.
“It was an accident,” she admits to me.
My smirk widens into an asymmetric grin. “Is that supposed to make me feel better about it?” I ask her and she simply shakes her head, pulling her shirt down and reaching for the thin blanket to cover herself. Her skin is still flushed, the pleasure still rocking through her, but her eyes are focused on the digital clock below her television.
Ever a reminder.
My smile falls as I tell her, “You’re reckless.”
“You’re the one who was almost murdered by someone like me. So who’s really reckless?”
“Maybe I’m just reckless for you,” I answer without thinking, barely hearing my words before recognizing them.
I warn her, “Next time I won’t ask for your boundaries.”
“I would have--”
“Next time I’m going to fuck you like both of us want me to.”
Bethany
I feel like I’m drowning. Like I’m in over my head, and I don’t know how I ventured into the dark abyss of the ocean, sure to swallow me whole.
I dreamed of him. I dreamed of Jase fucking me, taking me ruthlessly on the sofa. I dreamed of telling him no, only to have him pin me down and take me regardless.
The thought sends a blush of desire to grace my skin, kissing it and leaving a shiver in its wake. The way Jase did last night. Every small touch brought more and more heat, more sensitivity, more life. I felt alive under him.
And I want more. I’m not ashamed to admit I want more of Jase Cross.
Bringing my fingertips to my lips, I remember the kiss I drunkenly stole—thank God I can blame it on the alcohol. He tasted like bad decisions and lust. A sin waiting to happen.
When did my life become like this?
Working every day has kept my thoughts at bay. And now I have nothing to occupy my time. Nothing but a debt to Jase Cross and unanswered questions I have no way of answering on my own.
The only thing I’ve been working on is looking up every detail I can on Jase Cross. Hardly anything comes up at all about any of his brothers. All I can tell is that they were a poor Irish family, raised in the hellhole that is Crescent Falls. Back then they were nothing. And now they’re everything.
There are only four pictures of Jase that I could find. Two had the same woman in them. In one, she’s in the background, laughing at something. It’s a candid photo and it seems harmless enough. But in the second, her arm is around him. It was taken nearly five years ago, and Jase looks much younger.
I have no fucking clue who she is.
Although, she looks a little like me in this picture, the second one. Only slightly. But the resemblance spreads an eerie chill over my body when I think about it.
Is this who I remind him of?
Was he with her? The fact that I feel any hint of jealousy is ridiculous.
I haven’t been touched since college, and I haven’t wanted a damn thing from a man since that catastrophe.
Maybe I’ve always been jealous like this, and I just didn’t know it because I had nothing to be jealous of. It only took the strike of a single match to ignite a blazing desire to overtake every piece of me.
Maybe this is what it was like for Jenny. One small change, and everything fell from there. Addiction is like that, isn’t it? No matter what your addiction is.
The sound of my phone vibrating on the kitchen counter saves me from the downward spiral of my thoughts.
It’s only Laura, checking in again since I didn’t respond to her last night.
A few quick texts and I’m free of her prying questions, plus I’ve booked a date with a bottle of tequila, her, and the outlet mall next weekend.
The phone clatters on the kitchen counter when I toss it down, staring at it and wondering what that night will end up being. A few drinks, and I’ll tell her the sordid details.
I know I will.
I can see it unfolding in front of me.
She won’t judge me, seeing as how she’s had a few one-night stands. She’s gone backstage with an out-of-town band before, only to be seen again at 2 p.m. the next day, walking a little funny but smiling so hard that it didn’t matter.
It’s not the judgment that concerns me. I couldn’t care less about what people think of me.
If Laura thinks I’m in danger though, she’ll get involved. The very thought makes me let out a slow quivering breath, calming the rush of anxiousness.
I can’t keep Jase my dirty little secret, but some things will have to be just that. A secret. I’ll let him use me, and I’ll use him. Every encounter with him is a step closer to the world my sister lived in before I lost her. It’s closer to where she was and closer to finding out what happened. A
t least the thought is somewhat calming.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three raps in quick succession sound through the first floor of my house. I’ve never been so grateful for a distraction before.
Looking out through the peephole, I see a man in a gray wool coat, a man I don’t recognize.
Maybe he has a package, or maybe he’s a neighbor. I hesitate to open the door, my hand gripping the knob tight as I consider getting the gun. That didn’t turn out well last time though, and I refuse to live in fear.
It’s just a man. Not everyone is a villain.
The last thought firms my resolve and I pull open the door halfway, wincing when I feel the sharp coldness in the air.
“Hello,” I greet him easily, immediately struck by how handsome he is.
Classically handsome with striking blue eyes and a charming smile. This man has definitely left broken hearts behind in his wake.
The small smile from the thought fades.
Nervousness pricks along the back of my neck. Every hair is standing on edge when I glance behind him, only to see a cop car.
He’s a fucking cop.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Cody Walsh,” he tells me, taking off his gloves and reaching out his hand to shake mine.
Every ounce of me is consumed with fear, nausea, and the suspicion that this is a setup. I shake his hand without thinking, without considering a damn thing.
Even though he was wearing gloves, his strong hand is ice cold and I feel the chill flow from his touch straight to the marrow of my bones.
It’s not until I swallow my nerves, nearly ten seconds after shaking his hand while he only stares at me curiously, that I’m able to speak.
“Could I see your badge?”
He’s quick to take it out, passing it to me and when he does, his fingers brush against mine. The physical contact is a little too close I think at first, but then I peek up at him and he’s all business. It’s all in my head.
“Sorry, I just didn’t expect to see any more cops now that the funeral’s passed,” I tell him, whipping up the excuse on a dime and praying it explains my hesitation as I pass back his badge. Again his fingers brush mine and although I’m well aware of that fact, he doesn’t show any sign that he noticed.
“The funeral?” he questions and I feel the blood drain from my face.
“My sister’s; isn’t that why you’re here?” My voice is calm but drenched in sorrow. Real sorrow. I stand there pretending I know nothing of the past few days but my grief. I think back to what I felt the night my estranged family left me alone and I had to sleep knowing Jenny was really gone. That the world has accepted that, and I needed to as well.
I’m only a sister in mourning. That’s all I choose to be right now.
“I’m sorry to hear about your loss.” He clears his throat, bringing his closed fist to his mouth as he looks to his right, away from me and then adds, “I’m here on different matters.”
Finally, he looks back at me, and at the same time I feel my heart pounding, filling with so much anxiety, it feels as if it will burst.
As I grip the edge of my door, letting him see the nerves and apprehension, he asks, “Do you mind if I come in?”
A second passes as I look past him to his cruiser. The pounding inside my chest intensifies.
I don’t know what to do, and I’m terrified to make the wrong decision.
“Is this a bad time?” he asks when I don’t answer, his voice carrying my attention back to him.
The light blue eyes that pierce into me tell me it’s all right, there’s a kindness there, a caring soul somewhere deep inside. A small voice inside my head is screaming at me to tell him about Jase. The voice says I’ll be safe. There will be no debt, and all of this will be over.
But a bigger side, the side of me that’s taken over, the side I don’t recognize, isn’t ready for this to end. Already I love being touched by Jase Cross. I crave for that powerful man to use me, and I’m determined to use him in return to get answers.
I can practically hear his sinful voice, luring me into a darkness I may never come out of.
And that’s why I tell him, “I’m sorry, it’s just a bad time. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
The officer nods his head in understanding, but his eyes are assessing and my body tenses. Just go. Please, go.
“I’m new here,” he tells me. “I came down from upstate New York.”
I nod, blinking away the confusion. I anticipated him saying goodbye and apologizing, but instead he shuffles his feet on my porch, shoving his hands into his pockets as he speaks.
“I wanted to come to a smaller city, somewhere with fewer problems and a slower pace.”
A genuine, soft sound of amusement comes from me, forcing the semblance of a smile to my lips. “You aren’t going to find that here,” I tell him.
“So I noticed. Born and raised?” he asks, and I nod.
“My mom moved here when she was pregnant with my sister, before I was born. It was just us three for the longest time.”
“Your sister who just passed?” he asks, inflecting his tone with an appropriate amount of sympathy as his voice lowers, and again I only nod. With the small movement comes a pang in my chest. Every reminder of her is like hearing the news that she’s missing all over again. Or worse, the news that they found her and my worst fear was realized.
“I’m sorry. I lost my brother a while ago. We were close, so I can understand the loss.”
I have to look up to the sky, letting out a slow exhale to keep from tearing up. He doesn’t know. No one could know what we went through this past year.
“I’m getting the lay of the land here, and it seems like there may be a bit of trouble from a man who owns a vehicle spotted at your address recently.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I try to keep my expression neutral until I can ask, “Who would that be?”
“Jase Cross. His entire family and a few others are associated with murder and drug rings, along with other criminal activity.”
Silence.
It’s a long moment that passes, a frigid gust of wind traveling between us before I tell him, “Like I said, this isn’t a good time for me.”
Officer Walsh takes a large step forward, coming close enough to startle me. Staring into my eyes as my lungs are paralyzed, he lowers his voice and says, “I can help you, Bethany. All you have to do is tell me that’s what you want.”
Thump. Thump.
Staring into his light blue eyes, feeling the authority that comes off him in waves, I can’t speak. I only know when I do say something, no matter what I say, there’s a very large probability that I’m going to regret the words that come out of my mouth.
Jase
The door opens before the knuckles of my loosely curled fist can even hit the hard wood. The bite of the cold night nips at my neck at the same time the warmth of Beth’s home welcomes me into 34 Holley Drive.
I’m only slightly aware of either, and neither could beckon me inside the way Bethany’s eyes do. Wide and cautious, but curious more than anything. In this split second, the way she’s breathing, heavy with anticipation—nothing’s ever made me so fucking excited.
“Jase.” She murmurs my name, but not in a greeting. It’s more like an omen.
As I take a step inside, dropping the duffle bag just inside the foyer, she takes a step back, releasing the door and allowing me to close it. It’s quiet; the only sound is the foreboding click of the door shutting.
Bethany nervously picks under her nails as she waits silently.
“You scared?” I ask her and she responds with a huff of a sarcastic laugh and the faintest hint of a smile that comes and goes.
“Is that your question?” she asks me and it’s then that I catch something’s off. Something happened. Squaring my shoulders, I peek behind her. The front hall leads to the kitchen in the back, with the living room to the left and the dining room to the right. It’s all quiet, all dark with
the exception being the living room.
“If it’s my turn to ask a question … who do I remind you of?”
My gaze returns slowly to her. I let it travel down her body, noting that she’s in sweats and a baggy t-shirt that reads, Coffee Solves Everything.
“No questions yet,” I answer her and then brush her thick locks of gently curled hair behind her back. “You need to see what I want from you first.”
She leans her weight onto her left heel, tilting her stance and the nervousness wanes some. That’s better.
“I think I got a good idea of that last night,” she says and tries to hide the breathiness that came with “last night” and the rosy blush that slowly rises to her cheeks.
My smirk kicks up, and a warmth flows through me. I knew she needed it. I knew she’d love to be played with.
Lowering my lips to hers, but just barely keeping our mouths from touching, I look her in the eyes and tell her, “That was hardly a nibble of what’s to come.”
Instead of stepping back slightly as I expect her to do so I’m not in her space, she stands her ground and shrugs as she replies, “No need to hold back tonight.” Her words caress my face, causing a longing desire to travel down my body, all the way to my cock.
Keeping my gaze pinned on her, I stand up straighter and gesture to the living room. “After you then,” I offer.
“Not in the bedroom?” she comments under her breath as she walks ahead of me, and I don’t hesitate to grab her hip in my left hand and pull her back into my chest. Her yelp of surprise only makes me harder.
With my lips at her ear, I whisper, “The bedroom is reserved for the nights you beg me the second I walk in to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours.”
The second the words are spoken, I let her go and she falls forward slightly. Barely catching herself although she plays it off, just like she tried to hide her lust for me as she walks ahead of me. I watch her wide hips sway and grab the black duffle bag I’d dropped by the door.
“What’s that?” she asks when she sees it, taking a seat on the sofa easily. As if she’s not nervous at all, and that moment a few seconds ago never happened. It’s cute that she thinks she’s playing hard to get when she’s nothing but eager.
