Chapter Five
Scarlet
The huge leather-clad biker looming over me has just guessed my biggest secret. There’s no denying it. A past I’ve kept hidden for so long. I’ve never shared the details about that night when Billy had been given a bottle of rum as a gift and drank the whole damn lot.
Perfect opportunity.
Perfect crime.
Perfect murder.
Except I didn’t consider myself a murderer.
I was a survivor. Billy had been bad news from the moment he’d walked into my clinic in his suave suit and wearing his flash watch.
It had just taken an engagement and a wedding to find that out.
Fancy holidays and a nice apartment didn’t make up for the fact his temper was lightning fast and vicious, and he was free and easy with his fists.
“I wasn’t there when he died,” I manage and look warily into the blue eyes studying mine. “I was at work.”
He cups my face in his warm hands. His palms are a little rough. “It’s always a good call to have an alibi.” His stare is merciless and penetrates my deepest, darkest memories.
“Is that what you do?” My voice is breathy. What is he doing? Why is he encroaching on my personal space? Touching me? Why is there naked lust in his eyes? Does it reflect mine?
My heart rate picks up and a tremble goes up my spine. His legs touch my inner thighs and it’s as if he owns my space. Crowding me. Leaving me nowhere to go but closer to him.
“I really fucking admire what you did,” he says in a low rumble.
I don’t reply, that would be admitting I’d killed my bastard ex-husband.
“And it’s a real fucking turn-on, too. Strength. Determination. Resilience.”
I swallow. My mouth is dry. Is that what he really thinks?
“A real fucking turn-on.”
Damn, the man is sexy and bad and I wonder just how good he would play my poor sex-denied body if I let him at it.
His lips touch mine but he doesn’t kiss me. I catch my breath.
“I really want to fuck you, Scarlet. Like, my dick is so damn hard right now, it’s goddamn painful.”
I whimper as his words rattle around my brain. Fuck. Now. Him.
“Say yes.” Still his lips move against mine but he doesn’t kiss me.
My pussy clenches and my belly tightens. Adrenaline is still surging but instead of fight-or-flight, my body chooses fuck.
I fist his cut, screwing the soft worn leather into my hands. “Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Instantly his mouth claims mine and he clasps me to him. Our tongues tangle, teeth clash. The kiss is deep and urgent and neat lust pours into my veins.
And then he’s dragging at my top, whipping it over my head and tossing it aside. He is a predator who has caught his prey and is relishing in my surrender.
My breasts are heavy with longing and I press up against him.
He moans, a low growl, and releases my bra. It falls away.
“Fuck I’m horny for you.” He cups my right breast and squeezes. He looks into my eyes, fire raging in their bases, and he flicks my nipple.
I gasp. “It’s been a while,” I manage and thread my fingers into his thick messy hair. “Since I...”
“Haven’t had the urge to myself lately. Club ass not doing it for me.”
“You haven’t?” I push at his cut and he shrugs out of it. It lands on the floor. “What’s club ass?”
“Not you.” He huffs. “So, let’s make this count.”
He’s hard, his cock straining at his leathers. A long wedge of flesh I’m suddenly keen to get acquainted with.
His drags at his black t-shirt, his chest is a map of scars and dents and each hold a story. His wound dressing is still in place. He pulls me close again.
The warm sensation of flesh on flesh and the feel of my nipples on his wiry chest hair has my excitement ramping up a level. He’s hard and rough and strong and everything I need right now.
“Jesus, help me if I don’t get inside you in the next few seconds,” he mutters and pulls at my pants. They’re loose scrubs and slip off easily. My underwear goes with them and it all lands in a tangle beside the refrigerator.
He’s back between my legs, releasing his cock and filling my space. Heavens above. He’s big and wide and so damn hard. He fists himself with one hand, the other he sets on my pussy spread open for him.
I gulp.
“You wet for me, Doc?”
He slips one finger into my pussy.
I clasp his shoulders and clench around him. “Give it to me.” My pulse roars in my ears. I’m going crazy with longing.
His left eyebrow twitches. “Please.”
“Please.”
He chuckles and adds another finger, pushes high and wriggles against my internal walls. I buck onto him, my ass slipping on the counter. Nothing else exists. I just want him inside me. More. More. More.
“Greedy little thing,” he says and withdraws.
His cock is at my wet entrance. I can smell my own arousal. I hope he isn’t a hitter during sex the way my ex was, and I suddenly tense and a frown drags at my brow.
“What?” He cups my chin. “What is it?”
“I...” I bite my bottom lip. Not wanting my past to encroach on this moment but unable to stop it.
“I won’t hurt you. Only respect.” His lips brush mine. “I promise.”
I nod and lock my legs around his, draw him nearer. His words mean a lot to me. “I believe you.”
His big palm is in the small of my back, and as he sinks into me he pulls me onto him.
I catch my breath and close my eyes. He’s stretching me in such a delicious way, I savor every inch and it seems so does he. On and on he goes, the weight of his cock is dense and hot.
“Ah, yeah,” he says breathlessly into my ear, his other hand cupping my crown in a possessive hold. “You feel like fucking paradise.”
My thighs tremble around him, there’s a stitch of pain. He’s so big, and he’s buried as deep as he can go. Filling me. Owning me.
He shifts his hips upward, rubbing his body onto my clit. I gasp and clench around his length. Now there is only pleasure. Intense pleasure.
“Fuck, yeah.” He finds my mouth and kisses me wildly.
I grind against him and he pulls halfway out and then pushes in again.
“Yes. Yes,” I say into his mouth as he shunts into me while I’m trapped in his embrace. “Oh ... yes. Like that.”
“I’m gonna make you come so good.”
I’m shaking and perspiration pops on my brow. I want to come. It’s been so long. I need it like I don’t remember ever needing anything before.
“Ah, yeah.” He sets up a fast pace, his hips thrusting as he holds me just where he wants me. Each time his cock drives into me, his body stimulates my clit.
It’s my undoing, and soon I’ve caught hold of that spark, that first promise of delicious pressure that’s going to grow and grow.
He breaks the kiss. With each penetration he grunts, air huffing from his lungs with the effort. I clasp his cheek and watch his expression flashing from desperation to pleasure and then need.
“I want to spurt,” he says. “But not until...”
“I’m close,” I manage. I’m wild, taking what I need, my clit swollen and pulsing. “Fuck, yes ... don’t...”
“Not stopping.” He clasps my breast, a rough hold that captures my nipple.
The sensation tips me over the edge and I cry out as my orgasm rushes at me then steals me onto a big cresting wave of bliss.
He slaps his hand over my mouth, trapping my wails of release. “Shh, honey.” His eyes flash and his cheeks are flushed. “We don’t want no company.”
I pant and tremble through the delicious pulses of ecstasy. My pussy is clamping and releasing around his thick hard cock. White-hot fingers of pleasure sparkle through my body as he continues to grind, the friction on my clit heavenly.
“Ah, yeah, you’re fucking awesome when you come.” He frames my face with his hands and kisses me.
For a few sweet moments I throb through the last of my orgasm and our tongues stroke against each other.
Then he pulls back, pulls out, and grips my hips.
“What are you ... oh...”
He’s moved me as though I’m no heavier than a doll. Now my breasts are flattened on the counter and he’s behind me, kicking my legs apart and shoving his cock at my pussy.
“Hold on tight,” he says. “I’ve got to whack this one out before I go insane.”
He enters me on a fast-determined ride. He smashes up to full depth, his balls crushing on my pussy. I groan and clamp around him as he hits my G-spot perfectly from this angle.
He grips my hips so tight there’ll be marks tomorrow and he pounds into me over and over. His body slapping up against my ass as he pulls me back onto his cock.
It’s animalistic, frantic, and so damn sexy. My brain has short-circuited, all I can think of his him. The raw power of his need is consuming and mind-blowing.
I curl my fingers over the edge of the counter and squeeze my eyes closed. The counter is cool on my cheek. Another orgasm is careening toward me. The air is pushed from my lungs with each of his desperate powerful thrusts. A cupboard door bangs rhythmically when my knees hit it.
And then he’s throbbing inside me, a hot flood of release heats my pussy. A sound comes from deep in his throat, half growl, half groan. Barely human. I’ll remember it forever.
I’m coming again too, a delicious deep orgasm that sends warm honeyed pleasure through my torso and down my limbs. I contract around him and my spine arches as I take everything I can from his thick cock.
“Ah, yeah ... fuck, yeah...” He slides one hand up my back and tangles it in my hair, pulls so I’m looking ahead and my back arches further. “You have no idea how ... fuck, that’s so good.”
He’s breathless. So am I. I’m seeing stars and every nerve ending in my body is on fire. I’ve never had such a fantastic spontaneous fuck with a virtual stranger.
“You finished?” he asks and clasps my left buttock and squeezes. “Or do you still need my cock?”
“I’ve ... yes, I’ve finished.”
He releases my hair and I drop my brow to the counter dragging in air. This wasn’t supposed to happen but I refuse to regret getting laid for the first time since becoming a widow. It has been too damn long.
“I could get fucking used to being inside you.” He half pulls out then glides back in, his way eased by his slick cum.
I have to bite back a low deep moan as my pleasure extends.
“You have a sweet tight pussy.” His voice is gravelly, yet somehow silky.
I don’t reply and a tremble wends its way up my back.
He finally withdraws and pulls me upright.
It takes me a moment to focus. His forehead is damp and several tendrils of hair stick to his skin. His pupils are wide and his lips shiny. The web tattoo on his neck traces right down to his collarbones, the points of which angle at the hollow of his throat.
“You should dress,” he says with a flick of his hand. “In case we get company.”
I swallow and nod. He’s already tucked his cock away, yet I’m utterly naked.
“Here.” He stoops and passes me my pants.
I untangle them and quickly dress. My top feels too hot over my warm skin and my nipples are still hard against my bra. My heart feels like a caged bird clattering against my rib cage and I do my breathing exercises and get a grip.
He doesn’t bother with his t-shirt, though he does put that and his cut over a chair. The muscles beneath his flesh flex as he moves. On his back he has another big tattoo, this one an elaborate black cross with several names written within it.
I reach for my beer and take a slug, grateful for the cool liquid as it slides down my throat.
“You said you wanted your steak medium, right?” He flicks on the gas again.
“Er, yes.”
I glance at the stairs. Soon I’ll check on my patient. Perhaps change the IV to dextrose saline.
A silence descends over the kitchen, only the sizzle of the steaks to be heard. He’s tense, his shoulders tight and his movements stiff.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Nada.”
I reach for knives and forks and set them on a table.
“Here.” He puts down a plate with a steak and a slice of bread and butter. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Perfect. Thanks.” I sit and he does the same opposite me.
What’s happened? Minutes ago, we couldn’t get close enough, now a chasm has opened up between us. The air is prickly.
“Did I do someth—”
“No.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.” I shrug.
He shoves in a chunk of meat and chews.
“I’m a big girl, you know, it was just a fuck. I don’t expect you to marry me because you screwed me over the kitchen counter.”
His brows draw lower and he attacks the steak with his knife.
“Forget it ever happened,” I say. How I’ll mange that I don’t know. My pussy is aching from where he’s stretched me and pounded into me.
He stops chewing. “Maybe that’s gonna be the problem. Forgetting it.”
I pause with my food halfway to my mouth. “There is no problem, Reaper. We’re consenting adults. Both single, I think?”
For the first time I check his ring finger. Nothing.
“Yeah, I’m single,” he says gruffly. His lips press together then he takes a slug of his drink. “The problem is we’re from different worlds.”
I continue eating wondering if he’ll elaborate.
“You’re from that squeaky clean hospital, full of rules and good people and...” He shakes his head. “I belong with a bunch of life’s cast-offs, scraping our way through the world.”
I hold his gaze. “I think you know I’m not squeaky clean.”
He rubs his temple. “You are, compared to me. Fuck.”
I shrug. “That’s the past, it’s gone. The future we can’t control. It’s just here and now and protecting her, which is a good thing.” I jerk my head at the stairs. “Why are you making it complicated? I’m not.”
For a moment he doesn’t speak, then, “Fucking hell. I forgot you were so damn smart.” He sets down his fork and reaches for my hand, sets his big one over it.
“Sorry, I get in my own head sometimes.” He lets out a sigh.
“There’re things I’m not proud of. Things I’ve done, you know.
Sometimes they weigh heavy, probably when I meet someone who is the exact opposite to me. ”
“You want to talk about those things that weigh heavy?”
“Hell, no.” He releases my hand and carries on eating. “Ain’t no one need to hear that dark shit.”