Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3 (14 page)

As we stand out of sight, I hear another voice piping in, asking, “I don’t believe I’ve heard this story, Quinn. What crazy shit did Stryker do now?”

“Oh, my God, Chase. I never laughed so hard in my life!” Quinn exclaims.

“Quinn,” Stryker warns, but Quinn simply ignores him and continues on.

“So, we had this huge party about a month ago, and Stryker’s date of the week was a sexy lil’ señorita who decided to make a killer salsa with jalapeño peppers.”

“Oh, geez,” Stryker complains, “I give up.”

“After a couple hours, the party was in full swing, so nobody noticed Stryker had gone missing with his little Mexican beauty.” Quinn falsely clears his throat. “Thought he’d slink off for some private salsa dancing lessons.” Quinn has to get a few more chuckles out before he can speak with any clarity.

“I don’t think he was gone all that long, though. Low music was going on in the background while everyone was enjoying their own conversations, and out of freaking nowhere I hear this God-awful man-scream. I never thought I could hear a man scream like a woman until that night.”

“Fuck off, dude,” Stryker says irritability as the others start to chuckle.

“Anyhow, he comes busting out of the downstairs bathroom with his pants down around his ankles, running down the hall like a penguin on crack. Oh, God, that was a sight watching him stumble over himself, bare in all his glory. He made a beeline for the freezer, hollerin’ out in a panic the entire time that his dick was on fire. The only thing he could find in the freezer to cool his cojones off was a carton of ice cream.” The funny thing is, as animated and hilarious as Stryker is, I can totally picture everything being described.

“By this time, he must’ve had the attention of about twenty people, who then decided to gather around his naked ass to watch the show. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the hell his deal was, and when he stuck his dick into the carton of ice cream, I damn near lost it.”

“Holy fuck, man!” Chase remarks as he bursts out with laughter.

“No, that wasn’t a '
holy fuck'
,” Stryker adds. “It was from the fiery pits of Hell. If I didn’t know any better, that woman had hot embers of coal in her mouth,” he jokes, but his voice is in serious distress from the graphic memory. All the men howl with laughter as Travis tries very hard to contain himself. His broad shoulders shake as he doubles over in a fit of silent laughter, grabbing his stomach. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle my giggles.

Then Quinn’s deep voice booms out over the laughter as his story continues, “Yeah, but that’s not all, because of the fact his dick was wet, it stuck to the ice cream. So then he had to hobble over to the kitchen sink, only to realize I didn’t have a retractable water faucet.” Quinn’s laugh becomes so raucous it’s almost hard to make out what he’s saying as each syllable comes out on a cackle, “So I have to put the poor bastard out of his misery by dousing him with my cold brew, and I swear to God, I have never seen a dick shrivel to the size of a prune before.”

“And, oh, God, was that sweet relief,” Stryker emphasizes. Travis can’t hold out any longer as he bursts out with laughter. His entire body shakes as he leans on my shoulders, steering me into the kitchen. Everyone’s in stitches, their laughter contagious, and for a brief moment, their banter makes me forget my problems.

Eventually, everyone’s laughter slowly dissolves one by one, and then Stryker notices me. He clears his throat, giving his chin a quick jerk in my direction, looking somewhat sheepish. “Hope you’re hungry. We have a ton of food, but you’ll have to fend for yourself here,” he says. “We’re not used to having a woman at the table.”

I meekly smile as Travis guides me by the small of my back toward the table and pulls out a chair for me. All the guys are looking at me in silence. I feel like I’m under a spotlight, and suddenly, I’m uncomfortable.

Chase speaks up, his voice laced with concern as he asks, “How are you feeling?”

I shrug as I softly respond, “I guess as good as can be expected, given the circumstances.”

Travis then pulls up a chair right beside me, settling himself before he grabs a large dish of baked chicken and dishes some out onto a plate for me. One by one, the men slowly begin to make small talk as everyone eats.

Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the scene as I sit around the kitchen table with a bunch of hardcore criminals. I don’t know if they’re all in the same business as Travis or not, but either way, whatever they do, it can’t be good. I mean, Quinn alone looks as if he could be the type of man who would handle someone else’s
dirty jobs
.

One thing is blatantly obvious, however, and that is these men have each other’s backs. They proved that today. How can these guys do what they did today and act so unaffected? I have a feeling I will be haunted for decades by these past two days. My appetite wanes as I think about those horrid, lifeless eyes staring right at me, and I shiver.

The tension in my muscles has loosened, after the long, hot shower I took, and I feel more refreshed. I slip on one of Travis’ t-shirts, which comes down to my knees, and notice he’s laid out a new toothbrush for me beside the sink.
Thank goodness.
I hate that feeling of fuzz on my teeth.

Once I’m all cleaned up, I step out of the master bath and onto the plush carpet in the bedroom. A laundry basket is sitting on top of the bed. Someone put this in here while I was showering, and just in time too. I need a clean pair of panties. I blush at the thought of one of those men handling my underwear. It’s funny how I used to have two closets full of clothing, and now I’m reduced to a couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts, and a sundress Quinn found hanging in his closet.

I reach in the basket, grab a shirt, and begin folding the few clothes I own, when the bedroom door opens. I look over my shoulder to see Travis slip into the room. He quietly shuts the door behind him, and then locks it. My heart begins to pound in my ears at the very sight of him, and as he walks toward me, I can feel the sexual tension rolling off him. No matter how much I want to deny this man, my body overrides my brain every time.

I turn back around and pretend to look busy by continuing to fold. The warmth of his body comes to press against my back, causing my breathing to turn shallow. His muscular arms slip around my waist as he pulls me in tighter, pressing his erection into the cheeks of my ass.

“Mmm…you smell so good,” he hums, and then flicks his tongue over my ear. He closes his lips over my lobe, sucking it into his mouth while his hot breath escapes into my ear. “What are you up to?” he murmurs, his ministrations making me shiver and my eyes flutter helplessly closed.

“Just folding some laundry,” I try to reply evenly, but fail miserably.

“Sounds as if we need to make some more dirty laundry,” he suggests, whispering over my sensitive skin as he kisses and nips his way down to my shoulder.

I swallow hard against my dry mouth, and whisper, “Travis, do you think maybe this isn’t a good idea right now?”

“What, making more dirty laundry?” he taunts. He’s doing such a good job of turning my body into a bowl of Jell-O. The man knows every underhanded trick in the book when it comes to working my body into submission.

As if they didn’t get the memo, my hands still try to function and stay on their mindless task of folding. Hot, open-mouthed kisses rain down on me like April showers, and I go tingly from head to toe. I’ve lost my dexterity, and sloppily crumple the t-shirt up in my hands.

He notices my dilemma and chuckles, his chest vibrating against my back with that deep sexy laugh, which makes me squeeze my legs together. His hands slide beneath my shirt, and he smoothly glides them underneath the swells of my breasts. Since I have no bra on, his fingertips hone right in on my erect nipples. He begins to gently tug and twist on my hard nubs. A little moan escapes my lips.

His heated desire has turned me inside out, and I drop my head back onto his shoulder, dizzy with lust. He’s not wearing any cologne, as usual, but he always emits this dangerous pheromone that makes me lose my sanity. No longer is he stirring a slow burn within me; I feel as if I’ve stepped into an incinerator. I’m burning up with need, consumed by his flames.

“What’s not a good idea, sweetheart?” he huskily whispers.
What was the question?
I think as he breathes hot kisses along my neck while rubbing my nipples in his palms. “Oh, hell, woman. You don’t have panties on,” he growls.

My core begins to pulsate as he grinds himself against the bare skin of my ass in a slow serenade. He hastily shoves the laundry basket off the bed, and it falls to the floor with a thud. He removes my shirt, and then runs his hands the length of my body in a gentle and slow seductive caress. Goose bumps erupt all over my body, caused by the contrast of his heated touch against the cool of the room.

He grabs onto my hips and pulls me back into his hardness, and grinds into my ass while holding me firm and steady. He breathes in quick, hot pants at my ear, making my sex clench with need. “This…this is always a good idea,” he murmurs in a low growl.

Remembering the question, I croakily whisper, protesting in vain, “But we’re in someone else’s bedroom.” Grazing the outer lips of my sex with his fingertips, he slides a finger into me. My thoughts become a tangled mess again. I sink against his hard chest and open my legs wider for him.

“I don’t give a fuck where we are. I want you.”

I lick my dry lips as he dips two fingers deep inside, stretching me, filling me with need. He plunges his fingers in and out, fast and furious, his knuckles meeting resistance with each thrust, and I lose my breath.

His other hand wraps around me to squeeze the fullness of my breast in his hand. “Travis,” I moan.

He trails his tongue down my neck as he whispers, “So fucking ready for me.” He uses my arousal to spread over my clit, and begins massaging my hard nub with steady, firm strokes. I gasp, no longer caring we are in a house full of men. He turns me around, his eyes swirling with carnal lust, telling me he’s all animal. He lifts me onto the bed and climbs on top of me. My pulse spikes as he forces himself between my thighs, spreading my legs apart.

He leans down and hovers over my lips as he uses his powerful muscles to roll his hips into mine. The thickness of his jeans presses into my core with such force I think his cock is going to rip a hole right through his pants.

How can I want something so bad, and at the same time, know it is not good for me? “Kiss me,” he orders, and as he waits for me to respond, he rolls his hips into my opening again with a knowing smirk. Smug bastard knows I’ll cave, because, God…he feels so good. “Oh, God,” I whimper, bucking my hips into his hardness. I lift my head and brush my lips against his. “Make me forget.”

“You wanna fuck to forget, sweetheart? I can do that,” he says matter-of-factly, with a bit of arrogance lining his husky voice as he runs his nose along my neck. He whispers over my fevered skin, “I’m gonna fuck you sweet, though. I want you to feel our souls connect, and then I’m gonna make you remember for the next decade what it’s like when we become one.” I shiver as I run my hands over the thick muscles of his arms. He pulls his mouth away, and adds with a frown, “Then maybe you’ll never run from me again.”

My stomach plummets, and the look on his face tells me I’ve hurt him. “Travis, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh…I get it.” He kisses my lips. “You were scared,” he softly reassures me with another kiss, “but that was also a dangerous thing for you to do.” I know it was a dangerous move, and it could’ve been the wrong man waiting outside that restaurant door instead of Quinn, but I wasn’t thinking and I ran scared. He pulls back, regarding me with solemn eyes. “Promise me you won’t run again, not unless I tell you to, okay?”

“Okay,” I softly reply. I’m just glad he’s handling this subject in a calm manner. “I promise.”

Satisfied with my answer, his lips softly caress mine. “I couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to you.” He runs his tongue over my lips, and I open to him.

With the silky feel of his warm, wet tongue on mine, my lower belly flutters and a rush of wetness pools at my opening, the recent chaos already forgotten. Our tongues slide over and around each other’s in a fevered fury of passion. I thread my fingers through his short hair and tug at his roots. He breaks away, breathing heavily, and then sits back to unfasten his jeans. Never once removing his heated gaze from mine, he slides them off his toned body as his chest rises and falls silently with excitement.

He lays back down over me half-naked, his tight black t-shirt outlining and hugging all of his upper body’s muscles. He snakes his arm underneath my waist, pulling my body into his, my hands grasping onto his biceps. His tongue flicks back and forth over both breasts before he settles on a nipple, and then he takes it into the warmth of his mouth, sucking hard. I arch my back and hiss when he gently bites. My core clenches with need. My fingertips find the hem of his shirt, and I struggle to inch it up his body, but I can’t.

Filled with a dizzy lust, I whisper, “Travis, you forgot to take your shirt off.” I want to feel the warmth of his skin on mine. He lets go of my nipple and immediately moves to the other one, attacking it fast and hard. “Travis,” I breathed out.