She gave him a tight smile. “I’ve been alone ever since I left for college, Alex. I’m a big girl.” Then she waved a hand toward the door. “Go. You’re tired…and I’m fine. Moose and I will…” She shrugged. “Go.”
Feeling defeated, he turned and headed for the door. The dog was sitting there, glaring at him.
He was out of the room when he heard it again, another faint, muffled sob. Swearing, he braced a hand on the door and rested it there, staring at the floor.
The sobs came harder now, a little louder.
Turning, he strode back into the living room. She stood with her hands over her face, rocking back and forth. When she heard him, she whipped her head up and then tried to back away.
He just caught her up in his arms. She was rigid, but he didn’t let that stop him as he carried her over to the sofa. “You need to cry,” he said. “Stop trying to act like you don’t. Stop… whatever this bullshit is, stop it. You’re entitled to a good hard cry, Ali-cat.”
She jerked against him and sniffled.
He hooked an arm around her waist and tugged her more snuggly against him.
She wouldn’t relax, not at first. He stroked a hand up her back, then down, while she tried to pretend she wasn’t hurting and he tried to pretend he wasn’t miserable. But then a soft, shuddering breath left her, followed by another and another.
Then it was a hiccup, followed by a sob.
That broke the dam and she collapsed against him, a torrent pouring out of her. He curled her up into his arms and started to rock her. “It’s okay, Ali-cat,” he whispered. “It’s okay…he can’t hurt you, baby.”
Alex could tell the second she fell asleep. The last of the tension faded from her body and her head fell back against his arm, her glasses going askew. He tugged them off and pulled the band that held her hair up so tightly. He idly stroked his hand through it, recalling another time or two when he had done this. The day Mike had to have emergency surgery right before she turned five—the day her dog passed away when she was eight.
With a sigh, he shifted her on his lap and rested his chin against her head. Her dark brown hair was soft, silky against his cheek, and it smelled like peaches. His eyes felt heavy and he was too damn tired himself.
Today had been…yeah, one of those hellish days interspersed with bouts of excitement and tomorrow wasn’t promising to be an easy one, either.
He needed to get up. He’d told Mike he’d stay here and keep an eye on Moose at nights, but since Alison was here, he could go home, sleep in his bed.
And he would.
In a couple more minutes, he’d get up…
His lids fluttered down.
In the next moment, he was asleep.
Chapter Four
“Ali-cat…open your mouth.”
Alison whimpered as Alex cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her and licked a hot, wet path across her mouth.
“I want you to open,” he ordered.
But she didn’t. Because if she didn’t…
Alex sighed, the sound faintly amused. He pressed his thumb to her lower lip while his free hand smoothed down her bare back. Bare…
She was naked.
How had she gotten naked?
And she was on his lap—
“You’re disobeying me, baby.”
She swallowed and whispered against his thumb, “I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Are you?”
She nodded.
“Then you’ll have to make it up to me, won’t you?”
Excited yet somehow scared, she nodded again.
“Good girl…”
She didn’t remember how they ended up on the bed. One moment she’d been on his lap, naked. Then she was on the bed, the mattress like a cloud under her while her arms were stretched overhead. Not just stretched, though. Cuffed. She was bound and bare beneath him and Alex stood between her legs, using one foot to nudge her thighs apart. “Spread them,” he said, giving her a cocky grin as he echoed one of the most clichéd cop lines ever.
“Are you…are you arresting me, detective?” she asked.
“Should I?” He went to his knees now, staring at her with hot, hungry eyes. “Have you been bad, Ali-cat?”
She shook her head. “No.” She was never bad. And that kind of sucked.
Still fully clothed, he laid a hand on her bare thigh and said, “I bet you have been.” Then he smoothed his hand up, not stopping until he met the juncture where hip met thigh. Then he brushed his knuckles across the damp curls that covered her. “See…bad girl. You’re already wet. Why are you so wet, Ali-cat?”
Heat flooded her.
Then she jolted as he brought his hand down on her. She arched up, staring at him in shock. He’d just…
“I spanked your wet little cunt, Ali-cat. Did you like it?”
Panting, she nodded.
“Why are you wet?” he asked again.
“Because…I…” She moaned and rolled her hips. “Because I want you, Alex.” Always. She’d always wanted him.
“Want me to do what?” He continued to watch her. He could have been bored for all the interest he displayed. But there was a hot, wicked glitter in his eyes.
“You,” she gasped. “Inside me.”
“Not good enough.” He shook his head even as he passed the front of his hand down his crotch. “Tell me you want me to fuck you, Alison. Tell me.”
“Fuck me,” she pleaded, staring up into his dark-chocolate eyes.
He came down over her and she gasped at the feel of his cock, hot and thick, nudging against her.
He drove the rigid length of his cock inside her. And held still. “Beg me,” he whispered, nipping at her ear.
“Fuck me, please. Hard, fuck me hard. Harder, harder—”
Alison awoke with a moan when Alex trailed his lips down the curve of her neck. Somehow they had gone from sleeping sitting upright on the couch to sprawling on the floor, with his hands inside her panties, cupping her ass while he nuzzled and nipped along the line of her neck and shoulders.
Dazed, she tried to blink her mind clear, but the dream clung to her. It clung and mixed, mingled with a million daydreams…and a bit of reality.
What would he say if he knew?
Sweet, innocent little Alison Ryan had seen him having sex.
A few years ago, his house had flooded and he’d needed a place to stay. Mike had been out of town and this place had always been open to Alex. Too bad nobody had told Alison.
He caught her nipple in his teeth and she cried out, even as her memory fed her another image from that day.
She’d come in through the back. Her house was just a block away, on the other side of the flood wall and she’d made some chocolate chip cookies for Alex. The door hadn’t been locked.
She’d come in…heard the moans.
The woman—Alison had no idea who she was—had been cuffed to the four-poster bed in the guestroom. The door had been open, the shadows from twilight lying heavy on the house.
“Tell me what you want,” Alex had said.
The woman had moaned as Alex trailed his hand down her torso.
“You…just…”
He’d squeezed her nipples and smiled. Alison had only seen his profile, but that smile, both beautiful and cruel, had made her pussy clutch and ache. “I’m right here.”
“No…inside me…”
So he’d pushed his thumb inside her mouth. “Like that?”
Just then, Alex swept his thumb over her lower lip and instinctively Alison opened her mouth and sucked it inside. She’d relived those stolen few minutes a hundred times, maybe a thousand.
When he pushed his thigh between her knees, she moaned and rocked up. His teeth toyed and tugged at her nipple, but he made an irritated noise and shifted away, long enough to tear open her shirt.
Alison cried out at the feel of his mouth, hot and wicked, on her bare nipple. He used his tongue to push it to the roof of his mouth and sucked on it, drawing hard and
fast, showing no mercy.
She shot her hands into his hair and tugged, holding him tight.
He allowed it for a moment and she hissed out a breath as he tore at her panties, then they were gone…just gone…and she felt a blistering, deadly sort of heat spiral through her as he caught her hands and pinned them over her head.
Her mind flashed back to the dream.
Was she even awake?
Rough denim scraped against her thighs. His palm was hard, broad, calloused as it skimmed down over her belly and then she gasped, her eyes flying wide as he used two fingers to open her, parting the lips of her sex and then plunging them deep.
A soundless scream escaped her and then, before she could catch her breath, Alex’s mouth crushed hers, his tongue driving past her lips. It swirled and tangled with hers as he rubbed his fingers inside her pussy, stroked, teased…
And then he stopped.
She mewled out a protest, tried to reach for him, but he muttered against her mouth, “Be still… just…”
His voice faded away and in the silence, she heard a load, rasping noise. His zipper.
His cock sprang free and for one moment, she felt him pulse against her thigh and in that brief moment, her head cleared.
His dropped his weight down on her and she blinked, staring up at him.
His dark eyes were open, but…not.
“Alex,” she whispered.
He kissed her again and lost, she kissed him back.
He came inside her, hard and deep and fast. And Alison, unprepared, untried, screamed in shock, in pain…and in pleasure.
It wasn’t an unusual thing for Alex to pass out in bed with a woman and wake up without quite realizing where he was…or who he was with.
Fact of the matter was, he was something of a hound and he knew it.
So when soft, cool hands stroked over him, he turned into them.
When a mouth opened under his, he didn’t question it.
When naked thighs opened at his touch, he didn’t think twice.
When he found a wet, soft pussy? He just appreciated.
Those cool hands stroked over his back with something akin to gentleness, though, and that made him uncomfortable. He didn’t do gentle. So he caught them and pinned them down, not hard…giving her enough room that she could pull away if she wanted, but she shivered and he knew enough to tell she liked it.
He curled his tongue around tight, hard nipples and let the smell of peaches flood his head as she whimpered out his name.
She writhed beneath him and worked herself against him until he thought she’d drive him mad. He should have gotten out the ropes…or at least his cuffs. But he was too damn hot to worry about that now. Later…and the thought made him smile.
He slid a finger through her wet curls, stroking her, shuddering as he felt how tight she was, how hot. She whimpered and whispered his name, curling against him, her pinned wrists straining, her body lifting upwards to his. He shoved his jeans down, freed his trapped cock, and drove deep inside.
It was the sound of her half-terrified scream that woke him up.
And the smell of peaches that had recognition stirring in his head.
“Alison?” he rasped, lifting his head and staring down at her sweaty, upturned face, at her dazed, almost drugged expression. “Fuck.”
“Oh, please,” she whispered, obviously unaware that he was, well, aware.
Her sheath was tight, snug around his penis, convulsing and pulsating around him until he thought he’d go mad with it. Finding the kid sister of his best friend underneath his aroused body should have had his dick wilting. At least a little.
But her pleading voice and undulating body had him hard as iron and burning. He gripped one slender thigh and pulled it high over his hip, opening her wider, granting him access to a slim, smooth buttock and the crevice between the cheeks of her tight ass.
He groaned as he pulled out.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
“I’m not,” he said, growling. And he damned himself a little as he surged back inside.
She stared up at him, dazed, as he withdrew again, her pussy clinging to him. With a twist of his hips, he worked his way back inside her body, angling her slight weight with his free hand until he could feel the head of his penis rubbing that sensitized spot deep inside her body. When she was trembling and panting under him, he started to rock against her body with slow, deep thrusts, one hand gripping her ass, the other hand still holding her wrists down.
The wet silk of her pussy hugged him tightly as he surged back inside her, clung to him as he withdrew. His balls felt tight and heavy, burning and full, as he rode her.
The diamond hard points of her nipples stabbed into his chest and he pushed up to stare down at her, the image burning itself into his mind. Her breasts were small, but round, firm, topped with nipples that were red and hard. Her narrow ribcage and slim waist tapered down to the hips and ass he had always written off as too damned skinny, but right now, they felt awfully good as he squeezed one tight ass cheek and pressed his index finger against her anus.
“You’re so tight, Alison,” he grunted as he worked his engorged cock back inside her waiting pussy. Burying his face in her neck, he drew in the sweet scent of peaches. Without thinking, he brought the flat of his hand down on her ass—then he froze.
He’d just spanked Alison.
And she cried out, clamping down around his cock and coming, but the grip of her body didn’t ease and he drove into her again. Bracing his weight on one elbow, he stared into her cloudy green eyes and spanked her again, watched her jolt, heard her cry out. His body processed her reaction far sooner than his brain did and he spanked her again, and again, until she came a second time.
They went sliding across the floor, the sound of hard, messy sex filling the air around them and when she came again, Alex let loose, pounding into her while she cried out his name and shuddered under the impact of her own climax.
His own orgasm all but exploded out of him. He thought it might have blown off the head of his cock and for one moment, everything in him went numb.
He collapsed on her, sucking in air before he managed to roll off onto his back.
A low, rough noise escaped her.
He flung an arm over his eyes, cringing.
Was she…
Fuck, he had made her cry, hadn’t he?
Slowly, he sat up.
Her eyes were closed. Her chest rose and fell, her nipples tight, rosy peaks and he wanted to bite them, taste them…
That funny noise left her throat again, raspy and raw.
“Alison…?”
Her lashes started to lift, only to lower back down.
He’d just fucked Alison Ryan.
Slowly, he rose to his feet and looked around. They’d been on the couch at some point, but he’d take her on the floor and they were half out of the room. His knees were bruised, raw from the wooden floor.
He’d pounded himself into her with all the class of some loser who hadn’t had a woman in ten years.
He swiped a hand over the back of his mouth and shot a look back at her.
Unless he was even more sleep deprived than he thought, those hot, desperate minutes he’d just spent between her slim, pale thighs had resulted in the best fuck of his life, too.
Alison.
Son of a bitch, Mike would kill him.
Alex just might do the job for him.
I don’t believe this, he thought sourly. He stormed over to his jeans and jerked them on, pausing only a moment to stare at his naked cock. Yet another thing to deal with. He hadn’t used a rubber.
Slowly, he shifted his gaze to her. She had one hand on her belly. Faint bruises were forming around her wrist. Bruises from his hands.
He moved to her side and scooped her up in his arms, put her on the couch.
“Alison.”
She blinked and stirred, staring at him with solemn eyes…and a dazed smile. It was…sweet. Sweet and it m
ade him want to punch himself in the head. “This is…” He looked away. “This is my fault.”
She stared at him for another moment and then she sat up, her posture going rigid. He’d forgotten how she could do that.
“What?
“Ah…” He waved a hand at the room, at her, at himself, trying to encompass everything that had happened. “This. Us. Th…well. Everything. It’s my fault.”
Her big eyes continued to study him and her lashes swept down. “Oh. I see.”
Then she nodded.
I see? He wanted to snap at her. What the fuck did that mean?
But he just stood up and nodded.
If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to have her naked under him again and soon, because his brain was already telling him what had happened was a fluke. But his cock was already demanding a repeat.
“I’m going…ah… grab a rag. Wash up. I’ll be right back.”
But he lingered too long in the bathroom. Trying to get his brain in order, his cock under control, and his thoughts together.
When he came out ten minutes later, she was already gone.
Swearing, he scrambled for his phone and punched in her number.
She didn’t answer.
He sent a text.
No answer.
He sent another.
If you don’t answer me now, I’m calling for a patrol—the entire downtown area will be crawling with cops in under five minutes, Ali-cat.
Five seconds later:
I’m quite alright, Alex. I’m just tired. Stop worrying, please.
He dropped onto the couch and stared at the message.
“Stop worrying, she says,” he mumbled.
Then he went to fall back on the couch, but his eyes landed on something.
White cotton, simple.
He snagged them and picked them up.
A plain pair of panties.
Alison’s, he thought.
Clutching them in his hand, he braced his forehead on his fist.
Alison…what in the hell.
Chapter Five
It wasn’t until nearly two weeks later that she lost it. Alison was wearing her plain blue scrubs as she worked her way down the long hall of the nursing home where she worked, handing out pills and emptying the bed pans her aides conveniently forgot about.
Wicked Wild Fantasies Page 3
