Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Hazel
It’s been a never-ending day, and I’m exhausted. I’m in need of a long soak in the bath and a few orgasms. Given that I’m short one fiancé and plus one husband, who I’m desperately trying not to get entangled with all over again, I’m on my own on that front. Especially since I’d barely escaped with the remnants of my dignity the last time I got too close to him. Which means it’s battery-operated boyfriends only right now.
Except, I open my nightstand drawer and nothing. Well, not nothing; there’s some hand lotion, cough drops, lip balm, and tissues. Plus half a bag of chocolate for a rainy day. But not the thing I need right now. Its case and the contents are missing. I turn on my heel and move to my bathroom. I always keep a charged spare in there. For emergencies and for those days when I need one convenient for water use. I open the drawer, and it’s empty too. I glare at the blank space and slam it shut .
There’s only one answer—only one explanation for this kind of coincidence, and he’s currently sleeping in my guest room. Given that I heard via my bestie group chat that he also spent the night chatting up every local in the bar and flirting with half the single women in town, I’m ready to strangle him. Maybe I can claim justified murder the same way he did.
I move quickly down the hall and through the door. He’s fast asleep, sprawled out on his back with the window open and the sounds of the night floating in through the window. He looks so peaceful like this, and somehow that makes me angrier.
I’m on top of him a second later, my hands on his throat, my nails digging into the tattoos there and squeezing. The satisfaction it brings lasts only for the briefest of moments because before I know what’s happening, I’m on my back. My hands are pinned above my head, and he’s looming over me. His face is a collage of sleepiness, surprise, and irritation as he takes the sight of me in.
I hadn’t thought about what I was wearing when I came in here. Too mad to think straight, and he’s staring at the thin tank top I have on and the way my breasts are threatening to spill out of it. Given the way we left things the other night, this is probably going to be seen as another attempt to seduce him, and it’s absolutely not.
“What the fuck are you doing, Haze?”
“Choking you.”
“I caught that part.” His brow furrows deeper than before. “For what?”
“Mental distress.” I glare at him. “At least that’s what I’m going to tell the cops.”
“You kill me; you better call Bo to come clean it up so there aren’t any cops.”
“That’s your response?” I huff.
“You wouldn’t last in prison. Your smart mouth would get you killed.”
“You lasted.”
“I was in a Club Fed. You won’t be.”
“Fine. I’ll call Bo. Now let me finish the job.”
“What are you so fucking riled about?”
“My toys. What did you do with them?”
He has the audacity to smirk.
“Borrowed them.”
“You know I need them.” Ramsey knows I have trouble getting off without them. It’s one of the few things he knows that Curtis doesn’t.
“Which is why I knew you’d come find me when you needed them.”
“So give them back.”
“I want to know why you lied first. Then I’ll consider it.”
I frown at the accusation, racking my brain for any kind of lie I might have told him. Don’t get me wrong. I love pissing the man off, but we’ve always had an unspoken rule about not lying to each other—not even the little white ones that you think don’t matter. One we never wavered on, even when things got bad.
“What did I lie about?” I shake my head and study his face.
“Telling Curtis you had to fake it with me.” He frowns.
I sigh. I wish Curtis could have kept his mouth shut, but apparently, his ego couldn’t handle it. He just had to get a dig in on Ramsey, and unfortunately for him, he tried to weaponize the one thing Ramsey would see straight through. I contemplate whether or not to tell Ramsey the truth. The things it’ll do for his ego, and the way it’ll give him an even bigger upper hand in this make me want to scream.
“I had to tell him that.”
“Why? ”
“Because of reasons. It’s none of your business.”
“I don’t love you spreading rumors that I can’t get a woman off.”
“Why? Do you think it’ll ruin your chances with Vic? Don’t worry. The fame and the money will distract her.”
“Not very charitable of you.”
“It’s not a good idea to be flirting with half the town if you want her, by the way. She’s the jealous type.”
“Is she? Then I guess she should stop listening to rumors. Because I definitely wasn’t flirting.” His eyes drift over my face and down my neck.
“Not what I heard. But then I’m just trying to help. The two of you would be perfect together. She’d love living in your RV and being outdoors all the time. Sweating all day in the sun and then fucking her in the dirt somewhere.” I make a little gasping sound like I’ve just realized something amazing. “Then you can come home and shower outside your RV in front of everyone together.”
“Is that what you want? That why you’re being so fucking difficult about everything? You need a rough fuck in the dirt?”
“What?” I let out a weak huff of a laugh. Is he offering? Because… Shit. My brain is short-circuiting again.
He leans down, his lips a hairsbreadth away from the shell of my ear before he speaks again.
“You sound jealous. Do you want me to chase you through a meadow again? You liked it so much the last time that we spent the whole night there. We can do that. Then I can spend the morning washing all the grass and mud off you. Let all your guests see you for who you really are.” A flash of the last time plays out in my head. I haven’t learned my lesson from the other night because now it’s not just my brain short-circuiting. It’s my whole body.
I force a laugh instead. This one sounds almost as weak as the one before. Like I might be crying instead. I try to cover it up and laugh a little harder. I need to distract him. Wound his ego a bit so he doesn’t clock my reaction to him. I can’t be letting him win like this.
“That’s hilarious. So funny I could cry.” I shake my head.
“Yeah. Weeping your heart out. I can tell. You want me to lick those tears up for you, or just let them keep soaking into my thigh?”
It’s that moment I realize his thigh is wedged between my legs, and I’m spread over him like a wanton little whore again. Each fake laugh makes me rock against him, and that little bit of friction sends up a spark that wraps around my clit and tempts me more. I try to think of words to explain how I’m here again, but they all fall short on my lips.
“I… It’s just…” I mutter the words, but then I just look to the ceiling and accept my own humiliating defeat.
“I didn’t say you had to stop, sugar.” His grin is devilish, but his words are soft. “You need it. Use me to finish yourself off.”
I take a breath and roll my hips again, teasing my clit with the friction at first and then leaning into it more. Riding his thigh until my breathing gets heavier and my hands are wrapped up in the quilt on his bed. But I can only seem to brush the edges of my release before it drifts away again, and I quickly start to feel the heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks.
I shake my head in frustration. Ramsey’s the one man who’s been patient enough to help me get off without toys. But it’s been years since we had that kind of connection, since I could enjoy things with him. Even right before our should-have-been divorce, we’d grown too distant for him to be able to help me through it.
“Get out of your head.”
“I can’t. ”
“You can. You’re thinking too much. Worrying too much. Just grind that sweet little cunt on me.”
I return to my former position, and I can feel my clit pulse with anticipation as I start to grind against his thigh. He changes his position, leaning forward a little to give me more friction. It feels good. So fucking good. I bite back a moan as I take another pass.
“There you go. Just like that. Keep going.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. His breath is warm against my neck and my cheek, and the weight of his thigh between my legs and the possessive way he holds my wrists has me losing myself. I grind away on him like this is a dream where there aren’t any real consequences, and I can just enjoy how good this all is—the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the sound of his voice. I take it all in, and before I know what’s happening, I’m edging closer to the cliff I desperately need.
“Fuck… You should see yourself. So pretty when you let go like this. What fuckin’ dreams are made of.”
I switch my position slightly, chasing the edge of the pleasure I feel start to spark. But it’s still elusive, and I frown as I lose it, changing my rhythm again to try to get it back and sighing when I can’t.
“What do you need? Use your words.”
“I need my fucking toys.” My eyes snap open, and I glare at him, angry all over again that I had to come in here to hunt them down.
“Ask nicely .”
“Please give me back my fucking toys.” I narrow my eyes. This is where most guys fail the test, and I have to decide whether I play along with the charade for their ego or whether I’m honest and throw them and their egos to the curb.
Ramsey reaches over me into the guest room nightstand, pulling one of my favorite vibrators out and turns it on. It buzzes to life, and he presses it between my legs. It’s like magic, bringing the edge I was chasing back immediately. I close my eyes and start to rock against his thigh again, solid and roped with muscle, just like the rest of him.
“That’s it. Soak me while you ride it.” He changes the angle of the vibrator, pressing it closer to my clit, and gives me enough to make me desperate to chase the end. I ride his thigh harder; every counterstroke gives another heavy buzz, and before I know it, I’m cursing and practically panting for him. All he’d have to do is ask if I wanted his cock, and I’d probably beg for it. But he doesn’t. He gives me mercy instead, pressing the vibrator all the way down on my clit and bringing his mouth down on my nipple, nipping and sucking it through my tank top as I cry out.
“Oh fuck. Ramsey. Fuck… Please. Bite harder,” I beg him, and he does as I ask.
I scream out because it’s half-decadent pleasure and half-delirious pain. The orgasm chases through my nerve endings, lighting every single one and making me moan as I ride out the last waves of it. My whole body goes limp as it recedes, and the heaviness of the aftershock advances in its stead. He lets my hands go free as he sits back, and I feel the cool air from the AC whip over my body in the gap he’s created between us. It feels like heaven on my heated skin.
I enjoy the bliss for whole moments before I hear the buzz of the vibrator go silent, and then I can hear him—in stereo. His breathing is heavy, and I can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest and feel the weight of his gaze. My eyes open and his glimmer with want. His cock is thick and heavy, jutting against his boxers.
“How long has it been?” I ask as I slip my panties off, and he watches the movement like a feral predator about to strike.
“Too long, and prison made it longer.” Something about that turns me on. The idea of him, a man who always takes what he wants, having to wait for once in his life. Being starved of his favorite things and driven to the edge like this. I sit up and shift onto my shins until our knees are touching.
I slip my fingers up his thigh and curl them over the inside. “That must have been hard for you. Lots of nights with just your hand. Did you really think of me?”
“I did.” The way he looks at me makes me weak. Makes my heart flutter in a way I don’t like. The kind that needs to be snuffed out. Crushed. Then set on fire all over again.
“Well…” I force a grin. “Then you’ll be well practiced for your time here. But at least now you can use these.” I toss my panties into his lap and stand, smirking as his face clouds with confusion. “Enjoy your night, Lone Ranger,” I call back over my shoulder before I shut the door. I can hear the loud growl of frustration behind me, and I hurry down the hall, dodging into the master bedroom and locking the door behind me.
I’m winded, still trying to catch my breath, but I hold it for a moment to see if I can hear him follow. It’s silent, and I grab my stomach, half a sigh and half a laugh coming out at the same time. I can’t help the smile that breaks either as I close my eyes and lean back against the wall while my breathing slows. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while, which means I’m in trouble if I don’t find a way to stop it.