Chapter 20
REZNOR
The car ride is silent.
Every attempt at conversation falls flat almost as if we’re afraid an extra word might spark the sexual tension eating up the air in the car.
I pull into the driveway without even giving a thought to the fact that her car is still at the high school. We’ll get it tomorrow.
Right now I plan on following through with my the second time it’s way better line. And no, the getting off watching her get off didn’t really count as a second time.
Because fuck if I haven’t thought about doing this with her since she left my bedroom the last time.
Yeah, I have a problem. A big one. And her name is Desi Whitman.
Our feet clomp up the stairs of her porch. My eyes are on her hips, her ass, thinking about those long legs being wrapped around me as she fumbles with the key in her lock.
I like that she’s nervous.
It means she cares.
It means she wants this as fucking badly as I do.
The minute the door opens and I shut it behind us, it’s like dynamite detonates. We’re on each other in an instant. Hands and lips and tongues and bodies grinding against each other as we strip off our clothes in a mad dash to see who can get undressed quicker.
Her shirt is over her head. My lips are on her neck. Her back bumps against the wall behind her. A laugh falls from our mouths seconds before my lips close over the soft peak of her nipple, making both of us moan and slow for a beat.
Dogs bark somewhere in the house.
There is no slow. There’s only desperation and greed and every pleasurably selfish sensation in between. It may have been only two weeks since the last time we had sex, but right now it feels like for-fucking-ever.
Her hands are on my pants, shoving them down so my dick can spring free. Hurried whispers. Desperate groans. Another wall but this time at my back.
Laughter murmured by lips pressed against skin.
The jingle of collars down the hall as a dog shakes his head.
My hand slides between her thighs to feel her wet just before she drops to her knees. With those big eyes of her angled up to mine, she wraps her lips around my cock, and I watch every damn inch of it disappear into that sexy mouth of hers.
Fucking Christ Almighty. The woman doesn’t have a gag reflex.
My cock sits at the back of her throat as her fingernails scratch ever so slightly the skin beneath my balls.
She suctions tight around me and slowly slides it back out so it releases from her mouth with a popping sound.
Her tongue circles around my crest, dips into the split at the end and the moan she makes—the one that tells me she likes how I taste—is enough to make me want to come right there and show her how much she’d enjoy it.
And so I face the worst dilemma known to a man. Let her suck me off with that all-powerful suction of her lips, or bury myself in her hot, wet, and tight pussy so I can prolong the pleasure and get her off in the process.
She swallows me again, my dick going as far as it can before she wraps her fingers around what’s exposed and begins working that angle too.
Sweet. Fucking. Heaven.
For a moment I let myself get lost in the sensation. My head falls back. My hand fists in her hair to help her mouth fuck me. My hips thrust forward with each bob forward of her head.
And when I know I’m almost to the point of no return, I step back abruptly and lift her off the floor. She squeals as I haul her naked ass over my shoulder and with a resolute slap to it say, “Tell me which room, sweets, or you’re going to end up getting nailed against this wall right here.”
“Yes. Please.” Her hands slide down my back and cup my ass as the scent of her pussy so close to my face is like a fix to a junkie. It owns my thoughts. “Let’s start with the wall, and move to the bed for round two.”
I let her body slide down my shoulder until her legs are wrapped around my hips and her back is resting against the wall. Her eyes are on mine—I barely see them in the moonlit room, but I feel the heat of her pussy against my waist.
“I like the way you think.”
“And I like the way you fuck,” she says seconds before I lift her hips up and push my dick into her.
Every inch of my body vibrates from wanting to come instantaneously, at how incredible she feels wrapped around my cock. Every. Single. Inch.
Her lips slant over mine and she takes control as she slides her tongue between my lips to urge me to move.
And I do.
Her room suits her. It’s bright and eccentric and a little bit of everything thrown all together, but it works.
At least that’s what it looks like from where I’m sitting, propped on a shit ton of pillows against her headboard, staring at her.
“Why don’t you come back here and lie down?”
Her hand freezes midway to whatever she was reaching for. Yes, Desi, that means I’m not leaving here. That means I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long stretch.
She turns and looks at me from where she stands looking out the window to the darkness beyond. She’s still naked, her hair a mess, but I can tell she’s already trying to figure out her next move, when that next move is going to be coming back to bed with me.
It takes her a beat and for me to pat the bed, but she slowly makes her way and slides in beside me. I feel her stiffen when I pull her close to me so her head is against my shoulder and my arm is wrapped around her back.
We sit in an awkward silence as she tries to come to terms with what this cuddling thing is. It’s almost comical how I can feel her tense every time I shift a millimeter as if she’s afraid to touch me, when minutes ago I was buried balls deep in her.
But slowly she relaxes, and her fingers begin to draw aimlessly on my arm.
“What are your tattoos of?” It’s the first time she’s spoken, and it doesn’t surprise me that it’s to shift the focus elsewhere.
Everyone has a story to tell...they are my story. I sigh. My mantra. But this is Desi...and for some reason I want to talk when I normally don’t. For some reason, I feel compelled to tell her my story. “When I was younger, I was a real piece of work. I was out of control. Always in trouble.”
“And you’re a cop?” She laughs.
“It was the only thing that saved me. I was walking that fine line—could have gone either way, convict or cop—and I chose cop.”
“Do you mind me asking what happened?”
I lick my lips and trace my finger up and down the line of her spine.
“Rough upbringing. My dad thought fists were the best form of fear, but what he didn’t understand was that it made me crave that form of attention.
Eventually, I didn’t fear the bad, just the good.
” I chuckle at the thought. At the memory of the sound of his voice when he’d call me “Sonny boy” and how those two words meant I was about to get my ass kicked.
“I started doing petty shit. Stealing this or that. Vandalism. I fell into the wrong crowd as you’d expect, and one night I went on a ride with them, not knowing what they knew.
They’d brought guns along. Held up a convenience store and the minute the shots were fired, they ran to flee while I stood there staring at the blood seeping from the clerk’s chest.”
“Jesus, Rez.”
“Yeah, well...they left without asking me to go. Thought they’d leave me there to take the fall for them since I was clearly on the CCV television the store had.
I stayed all right, but I also called 9-1-1 and applied pressure to the wound to help stop the bleeding.
” I can still remember the taste of fear in my mouth.
Watching his blood stain between my fingers as I pressed against the wound with my T-shirt.
“Obviously I didn’t cover for the kids but pointed them out.
That put a target on my back so...I left.
Moved a few cities north to one where I could get lost in its population, and joined the Academy. ”
“That’s crazy,” she says. And she doesn’t even know the half of it.
“What about you? Why the dog grooming business?”
She snorts. “Because dogs are way more loyal than men.”
Ah, we’re back to that here?
“Is that so?” I take advantage of her head tilted to look at me and press my lips against hers.
I kiss her gently, my tongue slipping between her lips and teasing her without any sense of urgency.
Her body softens as I worship her mouth in a kiss that I can feel all the way to the bottom of my balls.
Jesus.
The woman knows how to knock a man on his ass.
And just as quietly as we slipped into this kiss, Desi pushes away from me and sits up. The draw of her breath is shaky and the way her hands play with the quilt on the bed, anxious.
I study her. Fear is rolling off her. “You just can’t do it, can you?” I ask into the darkness of the room.
“Do what?”
“Let your guard down for one second.”
“That’s crap,” she says through a laugh, but I can hear the truth edging her words.
“You change the subject every time I ask about more of you. You push away every time the kiss becomes too serious. You—”
“I don’t do that,” she asserts, but she damn well knows she does.
“Then why is it so hard for you to lie here in bed with me and just...and just be.”
“Because beds are for sleeping or for sex.”
“Then come here, let’s go to sleep.” I reach out to pull her toward me to call her bluff, and when she swats my hands away, I know it worked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s...it’s too close.”
“It’s too close?” I laugh. “I can stick my dick in you, but lying beside me is too close to you?”
“It’s not the same.” She huffs.
“You’re right. It’s not. And the having sex part is the one that makes us closer than sharing the same sheets if I’m not mistaken.” I run my hand down her back in an attempt to show her I can touch her and it’s okay. “Why do I make you uncomfortable?”
“You don’t.”
My chuckle is the only sound in the room. “I’m a negotiator, Desi. Trained to listen to what’s not being said and see things that others are trying to hide...so, nice try.”
“God, you’re a pain in the ass,” she groans.
“And you’re a confusing one.”
“Actually quite the contrary,” she says as she turns to face me and sits cross-legged. Her perfect tits are on display and the dark patch of hair covering her pussy blends in with the shadows and makes me want to play hide-and-go-seek to find it.
But her eyes watch mine as I scrape them up every inch of her naked flesh until they meet her gaze again.
“Where were we?” I laugh.
“We were talking about how I’m not confusing but rather am every guy’s dream.”
“Every guy’s? I was hoping just mine,” I murmur as my finger traces up the inside of her thigh so she squirms when I slide it ever so softly over those lips of hers, still swollen from our first round.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?” I ask, distracted by the slickness I find there.
“The problem is you.”
“Me?” She moans as I slip my finger between them and coat it with her arousal. “What did I do besides give you an incredible orgasm?”
Her smile is seductive, as is knowing how wet I make her. Her nipples pebble and her head falls back as I slip my finger into her.
Christ. This woman. She’s so careful, so guarded, yet there’s something about her—something that’s untouched—that I want to get to know.
It’s not just that she’s vulnerable, but she’s also fucking strong.
And I like that. After what she said about her mom, it makes sense why she doesn’t believe men are capable of sticking around.
Shit, until I met her, I was the same. I’m not a man who falls for a woman, but hell if she’s not tripping up my feet so I do.
“I affect you,” I murmur.
“So…” she moans and tightens around me.
“So why are you mad at me for that?” I ask as I curve my finger to rub against her G-spot as my other hand runs up and down the length of my shaft.
She widens her legs to give me better access and leans back on her hands. “This is the last time, Reznor. No more after this. I mean it.”
I smile.
Sure thing, Des.
Until next time.