Burning Kiss

by Angela Addams

  Sex and Steve always just happened. I couldn’t explain it. It was like breathing. Natural. Uncontrollable. Explosive.

  He pulled me across his lap, yoga pants and panties long gone, ass in the air. He held my wrists in one of his hands, my belly pressed flat against his thighs. I knew what was coming, braced for it. His heavy hand landed with a smack on my ass cheek and I yelped, my skin burning.

  “You need this.” His voice was gruff, punctuated by another slap. “You’re dirty, Jade. Filthy.” He slapped again and I arched my back, attempting to get away, not trying very hard.

  When I expected the next slap to come I got his fingers probing my pussy, slipping along my folds, nudging my clit until I moaned. He played for only a few seconds before offering his finger for me to lick. I’d barely touched it with my tongue before he took it away again. The next slap made me dizzy. I wouldn’t be sitting for a while after this.

  He alternated like this, slap, stroke, slap, rub, slap, penetrate, pump, flick, pull, until I was writhing, undulating with each of his moves. I needed to get off and if he wouldn’t help me out, I’d do it myself.

  “Steve!” I pushed my legs down, attempting to stand but he whipped me up so fast it made me dizzy.

  He carried me into his bedroom like a Neanderthal, with me over his shoulder, possessively clutching my aching ass, massaging my tender flesh. I was so wet I could feel my juice against my thigh. You’d think I hadn’t had sex for months.

  He threw me on the bed, caught my ankle as I bounced and then pulled me toward him. He had his fingers on his zipper, cock in hand within seconds. The look on his face made me shiver. He was going to fuck me with a capital F.

  Before his pants hit the floor, he pulled a condom out of his pocket.

  “You’re prepared, aren’t you?” My voice sounded breathless. I pulled the sweatshirt over my head and tossed it aside.

  “I don’t know where you’ve been or who you’ve fucked lately.” He slipped the condom on, his cock like a pole, bobbing as he covered it.

  I flinched. I didn’t want romance but Steve sure had a way with words.

  “Spread your legs wider.” He put his hands on my knees, helping me open up, pushing my legs down until my knees were almost touching the bed. “God, you’re fucking beautiful. Let me see your tits.”

  I opened the clasp at the front and teased my bra away from my breasts, rubbing my nipples so that they were hard as pebbles and throbbing for more. Steve licked his lips. His eyes flared with feral want as he climbed onto the bed, his thighs hitting the sore flesh of my ass. As if suddenly remembering my discomfort, he reached down and slipped his hands under me, squeezing my ass cheeks before hoisting me up, his arms bulging with well-used muscles. I pushed myself up on my elbows, my bra flopping to the side. He pulled me onto his cock, thrusting so he speared me hard. I arched back, my head falling to brush against the bed as he pulled out and then pumped back in, gliding on my soaking wet flesh like a piston.

  My orgasm mounted quickly. I tried to hold on to it, to push it back but there was no fucking way. Steve had worked me up and there was no way to stop the train now. I moaned low and long as he pumped me fast, amping my clenching pussy with jolts as I came. Before I could catch my breath, my body shuddering, Steve rolled us both, putting me in control. On top, my favourite.

  I rocked my hips, my clit sensitive, the sensation almost painful. He cupped my breasts, flicked my nipples, let me ride him at my own pace. Slow, steady, giving my body a chance to recover and rebuild. I loved having Steve under me. He had his eyes closed, his face slack, hands moving over my tits, squeezing, pinching.

  Once my movement became more urgent, when my body started to coil, Steve opened his eyes and favoured me with his intensity. I shivered, knew what was coming and didn’t resist. With hands on my hips, he sat up, keeping me in place as he pushed me up and down again, taking over, pounding me from below. Then he flipped me onto my back, his body pressed against me. His solid chest squished my breasts flat, the air in my lungs coming out in a whoosh. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. My hands were tangled in his hair, flesh on flesh in every possible way. He stared down at me, eyes so pensive, reading me as he fucked me.

  He moved his hand to my throat, fingers curling, applying pressure, cutting my air off as he stared into my soul. I had a moment of panic. Steve in control. He could knock me unconscious. Do whatever he wanted. Sparks flashed across my vision, my lungs cut off by his strong fingers. I’d been here with him before, breath play one of his things. This time my orgasm rose like smoke, just a wisp at first, curling around my body, alighting my nerves as he stroked my clit with his cock. I arched, urging him to move faster, to give me that spark so I could explode, so he’d give my breath back. My lungs screamed with my pussy, pulsing, flashes of black clouding my vision. Adrenaline pumped fast and hard. Danger, excitement. He was giving me everything my hunts did.

  “Jade,” he moaned as he loosened his grip, letting me suck in a breath to chase unconsciousness away. “Your pussy feels so damn good.”

  He didn’t remove his hand from my neck, his thumb pressing against my pulse. He stroked slowly, taking his time, driving me insane. I bucked beneath him, pulling his hair in frustration, almost ready to bite his shoulder just to get my way.

  He chuckled, lips curled wickedly as he pushed himself up, giving me some room. I unlatched my legs, moved my hands to his ass and gripped hard.

  “You’re so damn impatient,” he said. “You’re going to need another spanking.”

  With a sly smile of my own, I moved my head and licked his nipples before grasping one between my teeth as I flicked with my tongue.

  “You minx,” he gasped.

  But he couldn’t help himself. He drove into me harder as I sucked on one then the other, teasing him until he was groaning. He clenched his fingers again, tighter, stronger, cutting my air off completely so that my body screamed and my climax sparked. I let myself go, burning around his cock as I spasmed, my orgasm sending me into oblivion.

  We lay side by side, him propped up on an elbow, circling my nipple with the edge of his fingernail. If I were a smoker, now would be the time to puff away, my body limp, humming with exhaustion and lingering echoes of my climaxes.

  “You’re going to stop,” he said, his tone calmly commanding.

  I blinked, rolled my head to the side so I could look at him. “Huh?”

  He pinched my nipple.

  “Ouch!” I covered it with my hand as I pulled away.

  “You’re going to stop your social experiment—”

  “I told you that’s not what it is!” I sat up, my buzz falling away.

  He pointed at me. “You’re going to stop baiting men and you’re going to start seeing your therapist again.”

  “I’m not going to—”

  He trapped my wrist, pulled me close as he sat up. “Oh yes, you fucking are. Enough of this self-destructive shit, Jade. I’m not going to lose you to some fucking teenager angst. What happened fucked you up. You’re going to talk to Arthur and get yourself sorted.”

  “Fuck—”

  He grabbed the back of my head, clenching my hair tightly as he crushed his lips to mine and stole my words. Fury, passion, tongue, cock, fingers. He was in me, on me, stoking my undying embers.

  The problem with addictions, you could spend years going without, and all it took was one spark to reignite it. Steve was another one of my addictions and I knew I’d made a terrible fucking mistake, but that didn’t mean I was going to stop.

  13

  “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

  “I live here.” Kassey laughed then eased herself off of the stool, using the kitchen island to brace her movements. “I got security to let me in.”

  I wrapped her in a big hug. “Yes, but I was supposed to come and get you at noon.” And it was only eight. I’d left Steve asleep in bed, no interest in pursuing any more discussion about my life, him, or him in my life.<
br />
  “I couldn’t stand it there a moment longer. Dr. Brown signed the papers and I left.” She rubbed her arms. “Where were you?”

  The best way to treat an addiction was to avoid it, right? Stop putting myself where the triggers were. Keep myself busy with some other distractions.

  “I was with Steve.”

  The other way was to tell my best friend and have her sort me out.

  She frowned. “Steve?” As if she’d forgotten him and then her memory clicked. “Oh, right. Jade, really? Again?”

  “I’m so happy you’re home.” I leaned in and hugged her again.

  “Don’t try to deflect.” She laughed then pushed me back. “It took you a long time to break that habit the first time. Why start it up again?”

  Kassey had seen firsthand what he’d done to me. The hell I’d lived through. “The sex is really, really good.”

  “So good it made you forget about all the mind games? All the cheating, the emotional torture? Come on, Jade. Give me a break.” She shook her head. “I’ve been away too long.”

  “You have,” I agreed. “I can handle things with Steve.”

  Her smiled faded. “And if you can’t? I almost lost you the last time.”

  “I’m not going to let it get that way again. Trust me. I learned my lesson. Besides, it’s not exclusive. I’m seeing someone else too.”

  Her eyes got wide. “Okay, that sounds promising.”

  “The detective.”

  Kassey shook her head. “I thought…”

  “Well, his eagerness is not totally a turn off. And it lets me keep Steve at arm’s length.”

  “You sure this isn’t about revenge? Break Steve’s heart a little?”

  “What heart?”

  “Yeah, okay, good point.”

  “I’m not interested in a committed relationship with either of them. Too many strings. It’s just a distraction.”

  “You say that now but, Jade, you don’t let things go.” She winced a little and lifted her hand to her head.

  “You okay?” I moved to her side again. “Need to lie down for a bit?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She sighed. “Yeah, I do.”

  That’s what Kassey did. She pushed herself. Always striving to greater things. In this case though, leaving the hospital on her own had probably cost her energy she didn’t have. “Let’s take things slow, okay?”

  She had a suitcase of things that were still at the door. I glanced toward her bedroom. “I swapped rooms with you.” I hadn’t told her before. Not while she was in the hospital. Her recovery needed her focus.

  She did a hard blink and then shifted, moving slowly to get herself up, hand out to grab her cane. “Oh?”

  “I thought…” I supported her arm. “You probably wouldn’t want to be in there.”

  The blood was gone, the broken furniture removed, any trace of the attack in the trash long ago. I’d painted the walls too. But I knew how trauma worked. Even being in the condo was sure to trigger things for Kassey. And if I were being completely honest, there were nights I had a hard time sleeping in that room too. The couch was sometimes my preferred location.

  She didn’t say anything, just let me lead her past her room to the back bedroom. I’d moved all of her things. Put her clothes in the closet. Hung her pictures on the walls. Ones she’d stored in the cage in the parking garage, always meaning to get them out and hang them. Memories from our past adventures, places we’d traveled. Whatever I knew made her happy at one time. Whatever would reset her memories.

  We paused at the door and she took it all in.

  “We could move,” I whispered. “If you want. We could sell this place and get a new one. We could leave the city, move far away. Start over.”

  “No.” Her voice was firm. “We don’t run away from our problems.”

  Her tagline.

  Face whatever scares you.

  “But thank you.” She squeezed my arm, looking at me with teary eyes. “I’m ready to be home. Maybe not ready to sleep in that room again. I appreciate the swap. Even if it’s only temporary.”

  I nodded. Okay.

  I moved her into the room and helped her sit on the bed. “Are you hungry? I could make something.”

  We laughed at that.

  “Okay, never mind. Listen, you take a nap, get some rest. We’ll go out for a bite to eat later, okay?”

  She nodded as she eased herself down. “I’ve got some pills in my suitcase…for the pain. Could you get them for me?”

  I did as she asked, retrieved the pills and her suitcase. “These will knock you out.” I brought a bottle of water for her.

  “Two please.” She took them then laid down again, closing her eyes. “I just need some time to rest.”

  I watched her, the steady rise and fall of her chest, then leaned down and kissed her forehead, trailing my fingers down the scar on her face.

  “I missed you too, Jade. Now quit hovering and go do something.”

  I couldn’t leave. Not until I knew she was asleep. She was safe at home with me. Sean Ray was in jail. Never to be released. I had changed the locks. I’d armed myself. She was safe. I would never let anyone harm her again.

  But that night. That night I’d led a rapist right to our door.

  He’d stalked me for a month, biding his time as he went through the motions of a good parolee. He knew where I lived. Knew where I parked my car. Knew what my routine was. He could have attacked me anywhere. But he hadn’t. He’d chosen my home because it was my safe zone. Because it was the place I’d have my guard completely down. And he’d come at night, thinking that I’d be safely tucked away, asleep and waiting for him.

  But I hadn’t been home. I’d been working late. Kassey was the one who had been asleep, oblivious to the danger lurking.

  We hadn’t had a reliable security guard at the time. Or any other measure to ensure that someone like Sean Ray wouldn’t get in. He’d picked the lock. He’d spent some time touching things. Rooting around. Filling a bag with what he thought were mementos belonging to me.

  And then he’d found Kassey fast asleep and had taken her for me.

  When I’d opened that door, when I’d heard her moan, that sound of someone who thought they would die from pain, someone who would do anything to make it end. When I opened that door, I’d seen red. Rage like I’d never experienced before.

  He’d been on her. In her. Raping her body. The sheets had been covered in blood. She’d been face down and he’d been violating her. I’d screamed. I’d jumped on his back. I’d bitten him on the neck.

  He’d thrown me off like I was made of nothing. Sent me flying to hit my back against the wall so that all the air came out of me.

  He’d looked at me. Then back at her. Realizing for the first fucking time that he had the wrong girl.

  He’d lifted a knife. Then he’d laughed. “Two for the price of one.” He’d pulled Kassey up by her hair, making her cry out again. “Hi, Doc. You never told me you had a sister.” And then he’d slashed her face, his own contorted in a mask of anger. “Now you two won’t look so much alike.”

  When he’d dropped her, her head hit the side of her nightstand. A sickening thud that ended her whimpering

  “Please Sean, this isn’t you anymore.” But obviously it was. “You’ve changed, remember?”

  He’d stopped short at those words. Looking at me like I’d stumped him.

  “We worked so hard to overcome these impulses. Remember our talks? Remember that we figured out what your triggers were. How to breathe yourself calm. How to think about other things.”

  “Oh fuck, Doc, you think that shit actually worked? Associating my impulses with things that disgust me?” He’d snorted. “It was a fun game, helped me get to know you better but I’m still the same man I was inside.” He’d taken a step toward me. “Except I’m not inside, am I? I’m right here, with you. And there’s no one to stop me.”

  I’d pushed myself up the wall, my trembling legs barely h
olding me. “Don’t do this. I need to call an ambulance. You don’t want to be charged for murder.”

  “I’m not going back, sweetheart. Not on your life.” He’d glanced over his shoulder. “Or hers.”

  And then I’d charged him. I can’t tell you what I was thinking. I’d just reacted. I’d jumped on him. He’d cut me. The police came. End of story.

  But not really.

  14

  “You’re up,” the range officer said as he motioned to the firing line.

  I nodded, adjusted my gun and then headed to my position. It was an unusual sport for a woman, I’ll admit that. Shooting was always a sausage party. Dominated by men.

  It had been Arthur who’d brought me to the range that first time and told me to test out my comfort with his Citori. It was a big gun and I hadn’t known what the fuck I was doing. Arthur had coached me, helped me position it properly to my cheek and shoulder. I remember that rush of adrenaline, my heart pounding; and when I’d pulled the trigger, I just knew. This was the sport for me. I’d missed the clay of course, and almost every one after that but it hadn’t mattered because I was hooked. Then I’d gotten Kassey into it. I knew she’d love it too. The power was intoxicating.

  But it did something else too. It gave me time to let my mind blank completely, reset my emotions and then come back to the problem with a clear head. Back in the day, we’d shoot and then we’d talk. The three of us. Kassey, me, and Arthur. Group therapy. There was nothing I didn’t tell Kassey and so the two of them would always help me sort out whatever problem I was having. More importantly though, the conversations kept me connected. Kept me from dipping my toes too long in the darkness.

  I finished my rounds and walked back to where I’d left my ammo case.

  Like I’d conjured him with my thoughts, I looked up and there he was. Arthur in his army green fishing hat, black shooting vest and army fatigues. I’d made fun of the camo but he insisted it helped him shoot, as if clothing choice could dictate aim or something. For a psychologist, he was damn superstitious at times.