Authors: Eden Bradley
Her body was burning up, and still he kept kissing her—nothing more. She felt a trickle
run down her thigh, her sex swollen with need. Her breasts ached, her nipples hard
as stones. And his lips and tongue were torturing her in the most delicious way.
She lifted her head off the mattress to kiss him back harder, but he pressed her down
again, telling her without words to submit to him—a power struggle she had no real
desire to win.
Regardless of her wanting—a wanting she was drowning in—or maybe because of it, she
felt a gear shift in her head. It was another level of submission, of giving herself
over to him, to whatever he demanded.
He pulled away and whispered against her mouth, “Beautiful, baby. This is exactly
what I wanted from you. What I needed to see before I fuck you.”
He stroked her hair, her cheek, ran his fingertips down the side of her neck, and
at that moment it was as erotic as any other man with his hand between her legs.
When he brushed her nipple, she arched into his touch—she couldn’t help it.
He kissed her lips, a few soft, brief kisses, before moving down and grazing her nipple
with his lips.
“Oh . . .”
He filled his hands with both breasts, flooding her body with another wave of heat
before he bent and took one hard tip into his mouth.
She sighed her pleasure as he sucked, his mouth so hot and wet she thought she might
come right then, her pussy clenching hard between her spread thighs.
“God, Mick. Yes.”
He sucked harder, eased off and bit into her swollen flesh, and she cried out.
“Ah!”
He pulled back and moved to the other side, pulling her nipple in with his lips, swirling
his tongue over the tip, then sucking and biting, biting and sucking, squeezing her
breast painfully with his hands. Pleasure was fire and rain and thunder all at once,
her body hovering on the edge of release. When he thrust one thigh hard against her
mound, her clit pulsed against the strong muscle there. He pressed again, and again
and again. Her body exploded, white fire behind her closed eyelids, her legs shaking
as she came, her fingers grasping the duvet, her hips thrusting against his thigh.
“God, Mick! Oh . . .”
She was still shaking when he asked roughly, “Condoms?”
“No, I don’t . . .”
“Hang on.”
She felt bereft as his body left hers for a moment, then he was back, and she blinked
up to see him tearing a packet with his teeth. He reared back to sheath himself, and
even watching him roll the latex over his rock-hard erection was purely erotic to
her.
He leaned over her, took her wrists in his hands once more and drew them up until
they were raised over her head. He wrapped them both in one big hand and held them
there as he used the other to guide his cock to her opening.
“Yes, please, please,” she murmured as the tip of him rested against her.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his tone harsh, guttural.
When she raised her gaze to his she saw the need in his glittering gray eyes, in the
looseness of his features. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he slid into her.
Her sex clenched around him as his thick shaft stretched her, and pleasure shivered
through her like an electric current.
“Oh . . .”
“Baby,” he murmured. “Goddamn it, you feel . . . amazing.”
He gasped as he thrust, driving to the hilt.
She gasped out a breath as he filled her.
He was big, and it hurt. She didn’t care. She wanted all of him, every bit she could
get. She arched her hips, taking him in.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said. “Come on, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me as I’m fucking you.”
She did as he instructed, raising her hips to meet his as he drove into her. She saw
every stab of pleasure mirrored in his eyes, heard every moan echoed in his deep groans.
Sensation built, pushing deeper inside her even as he did, his cock a thick hammer
inside her body.
When she felt his cock begin to pulse, he stopped, breathing hard.
“Don’t move,” he commanded.
She held her muscles taut, stilling herself as best she could. His scent surrounded
her, invaded her head, her body, filtering deep within her system. Dark leather, fresh
citrus, the smoky scent of sex.
“Allie, I need to . . .”
He trailed off, then he wrapped his hands around her waist, making her feel as if
she weighed no more than a doll as he flipped her over onto her stomach. With his
hands grasping her hips, he raised her up on her hands and knees. Before she had time
to think about it, to protest that connection of face to face, gaze to gaze, he surged
into her from behind, and she cried out in pleasure.
“God, Mick!”
He slung his hips, burying his cock deep inside her. Then he wrapped an arm around
her waist and reached between her thighs to press her hard clitoris. She sighed when
he began to rub, to pinch, to tug on it.
“I’m going to come,” she told him, nearly breathless.
“No you don’t, Allie girl. You hold it back for me. Don’t you come until I tell you.”
She groaned.
He pinched her clit hard, and she would have jumped if his big body hadn’t been flush
up against hers, holding her in place.
He began to move, surging into her, sliding out, and every stroke was exquisite. She
was shivering all over, her body working hard not to climax, to hold the need to come
at bay. He bucked harder, his fingers tensing on her clit, and she had to bite her
lip, to bite her orgasm back.
He was slamming into her, hard enough to hurt, but she welcomed it,
needed
it. Needed to feel him so deep inside her she would carry the bruises for days.
“Baby . . . Christ, you feel so. Damn. Good. So good . . .”
He wrapped his other arm under her breasts and pulled her up until she was on her
knees, his arms holding her tight, his bog cock still ramming into her, over and over.
“Now,” he commanded, and bit into her shoulder.
Her pussy clenched hard as stars exploded in her eyes, the world spinning, dark, void
of everything but their two bodies joined together, the pleasure and the pain. His
strong arms held her together as her body shattered with sensation.
“Oh . . .”
He was groaning, bucking into her still, his fingers on her clit rubbing, pressing,
driving her climax on.
When it was over they collapsed together on the bed, both of them covered in sweat.
He still held her, spooning her from behind. His fingers still played lazily with
her clit, sending small frissons of pleasure through her.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he murmured, nibbling on the back of her neck.
“Mmm.”
She felt amazing. Raw. Sore. Spent. But there was also that one tiny part of her that
wished they’d come looking into each other’s eyes, that understood he’d turned her
over for a reason that wasn’t all about the pleasure itself. And it hurt. But she
understood that level of true intimacy would take some time.
She tried to let this be enough.
She snuggled back into him and he held her, his hand coming up to smooth over her
thigh, sliding up her stomach, her ribs, to cup her breast. He stroked the skin there
with his thumb as his breathing calmed.
She could smell the earthy scent of come in the air. Heard the sound of rain coming
down outside, splashing against the wide leaves of the banana plant outside her bedroom
window.
Felt the small chill in the air brought by the rain. She shivered, and he held her
tighter.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes. Wonderful.”
It was true. But the small doubt that had invaded her mind as soon as they’d finished
was there, too, and just as true.
She caught his hand in hers and twined her fingers through his.
“Mick.”
“Yeah?”
“This is . . . we’re just beginning, aren’t we? To see if we can figure this out?”
she asked.
“What, baby? Yes, sure. That’s what we talked about. That’s exactly what we’re doing
here. It wouldn’t have been more than play at the club otherwise. Is that what you’re
asking me?”
“I . . . yes, I guess it is.”
He was quiet for several moments. She wished he’d turn her over to face him, let her
look into his eyes so she would
know
. But maybe neither of them really knew yet, as badly as she wanted to. Maybe that
wasn’t possible.
“We need to start somewhere,” he said. “That’s the whole point. We can’t go back to
where we used to be. That isn’t where we want to be anyway, is it?”
“No. Of course not.”
“So . . . we start here. And see where it goes.”
“Okay. Okay. I know you’re right. I’m just . . . we’ve played and . . .”
“Hey. I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere right now.”
He kissed her hair, and it made her heart squeeze. She brought their twined fingers
to her lips and kissed his.
“See? It’s all good,” he said.
But was it? She wanted things between them to be good—what was happening now, what
might happen down the road.
She
needed
it to be, which wasn’t the smartest thing, perhaps, given the way Mick had run from
her in the past. Maybe the “need” part was because they’d just played. Maybe she was
bottoming out a bit. But whatever the reason, she couldn’t help herself. Logic and
emotion didn’t always play well together. She just hoped she could get the logical
part to even have a place in the game.
M
ICK WALKED INTO
Flynn McCool’s, a favorite pub of his friends and brothers. They’d all been glad the
bar managed to reopen after Katrina.
His bootheels scuffed on the weathered hardwood floor as he moved through the place
and found Jamie at the bar. He settled onto a stool next to his friend.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Jamie answered with a lift of his chin toward the bartender. “A Guinness for
the gentleman.”
“Yeah, I’m hardly that.”
“True enough.”
He could tell Jamie had already finished one beer and started another, even though
it was only noon—his deeply buried Scottish accent only came out when he drank, or
on those rare occasions when he was really pissed off. He was pretty sure he hadn’t
done anything to piss Jamie off lately. At least, not this week.
The bartender filled a tall mug and passed it to Mick.
“Thanks.” He turned to Jamie. “So, what’s up?”
“Just checking in with you about last night,” Jamie said. “I’ve already talked to
Allie and she’s pretty closemouthed. Tell me what’s up with you two.”
“You know what I really hate, aside from your tendency to have your nose up everyone’s
ass?”
“That’s not one of my particular fetishes, but go on.”
“I hate that I can’t fucking tell you to go to hell because you’re our damn negotiator.”
“And your friend,” Jamie reminded him.
“Yeah.” Mick paused to take a swig of the dark ale. “So you’re doing the responsible
thing, is that it?”
“Nice to see you, too, buddy. Want to tell me why you’re in such a foul mood?” Jamie
asked.
“Me? I’m fine. You’re the one drowning your sorrows. What’s up? Something at the shop?”
Jamie wrapped a hand around his mug, lifted it and took a long gulp. “May twentieth.”
“Yeah? And?”
His friend cast him a sideways glance and Mick remembered—the anniversary of his brother’s
death. Was he a selfish bastard thinking of himself after all Jamie had lost? He already
knew the answer.
“Shit, Jamie. Sorry, man. How many years is it?”
“Twenty-three. I can’t even believe it’s been that long since I’ve seen Ian. Although
I guess he would look just like me, wouldn’t he?”
“I’m sorry,” Mick repeated, not sure what else to say.
“Trying not to be too morose. Especially after all these years. But there’s that twin
thing you hear about, you know? It’s true, what people say.”
Mick clapped Jamie on the back. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Just need a few drinks today. And I will again in a couple of months when it’s
the anniversary of Brandon’s accident. But by tomorrow I’ll be back on track. Everyone’s
allowed a black day now and then, right?”
“Right. Sure.” Mick grimaced, wondering if people were allowed black decades.
“So, distract me with the scandal that is whatever’s going on between you and Allie.”
“Said like a true reality TV whore.”
“
Ice Road Truckers
does not a whore make, my friend,” Jamie protested.
“I’m sure there are a few along that road.”
“Probably. Quit stalling and spill.”
Mick hesitated. “What did Allie tell you?”
“That as your best friend I’d better talk to you first.”
He grinned. “Good girl.”
Jamie set his beer down with a thud. “Jesus, Mick, just tell me what the hell went
on so I can get on with my drinking.”
“Okay, fine.” He paused to sip his beer. “We went to the club and had some good play.
Great, actually. Then we went back to her place. I left this morning only after making
sure she wasn’t in subdrop. She was fine. She promised me she was fine.”
Jamie frowned. “Now tell me what’s in between the lines.”
He had to blow out a breath. “We’re . . . talking about being together. Just trying
it out, seeing where we’re both at.”
“Can you expand on that?”
“I’d rather not.”
“No kidding. Do it anyway,” Jamie demanded. “Because I need to know if Allie really
is all right.”
“Do you think I’d be here if she wasn’t?” Mick exploded, then reined himself in. “Fuck.
Sorry.”
“Buddy, you are bent way the hell out of shape.”
“It was your idea to bring us back together.” Mick knew he was being childish, and
he sighed, reaching for his beer. “And yeah, maybe I am bent. I don’t know what the
hell is going to happen. I’m not sure what I want to happen. I’m just going with it
for now.”
“That is such crap.”
“Fuck you, Jamie,” Mick muttered into his beer mug before he took a long gulp.
Jamie only shook his head at him.
“Okay, fine. I don’t know where my head is at when it comes to her. It’s too damn
soon to tell. I don’t intend to hurt her if that’s what you’re worried about—”
“It is.”
“I get that. But what am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Back off and never see her
again because I don’t know where we’ll end up? Would that be any better?”
“I don’t know. Would it?” Jamie asked.
Mick scrubbed at his chin. “I’m trying to figure it out, okay? Don’t ride me about
this, Jamie,” he warned. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“You still have feelings for her,” Jamie stated.
“And you still have an uncanny gift for stating the obvious.”
Despite all the years of his attempts at denial, he knew he’d never been able to hide
how he felt about Allie from his best friend. Hell, he hadn’t done a good job of hiding
it from himself.
Jamie lowered his voice. “Mick, just don’t drag this on too long if you can’t carry
through. That’s all I’m asking. Don’t hurt her any more than you have to.”
He nodded. “I feel like a bastard already for even being with her. I’d feel like a
bastard if I refused her. There’s no good way out of this.”
Except that despite all his bluster he wasn’t sure he wanted out. Being with her felt
too damn good to stop. Being with her, playing her, having her submit to him.
He understood his own limitations. He knew he’d had his walls up last night, this
morning. He’d
had
to. Was it fair to her that challenging his limits was a sort of experiment for him?
That he really didn’t have any idea how it would turn out?
“Hell, Jamie, this is all new to me. You two sprang it on me—and I’m not saying that
to hit you over the head with it, okay? Just stating a fact. But I wasn’t ready for
it. Not that I haven’t thought of being with Allie again, which I’m sure you know,
but that was just fantasy material. Until now. Now it’s damn real, and I have Allie
to be responsible for, without knowing what I’m even fucking capable of these days,
outside of the BDSM arena.”
“Yeah, I get it, Mick.”
He took another gulp of his beer. “I don’t know if I can give her what she wants.
But I don’t know if I can stop. It’s a tug-of-war in my head.”
No, he couldn’t stop now. Having had this taste of Allie—of Allie as a woman, rather
than a girl—was something he couldn’t resist.
No, he wasn’t about to stop.
* * *
A
LLIE SWUNG OPEN
the back door to Marie Dawn’s house and walked into the cozy blue-and-white kitchen.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!” she called out as she let the screen door shut behind her.
Her best friend came in from the dining room and immediately wrapped Allie in a warm
hug.
“Allie,
chérie
, I’ve missed you! I’m so sorry I couldn’t make
lunch yesterday. If it had been anything other than an emergency with
grand-mère . . .
I feel terrible that it turned out to be nothing more than a little indigestion.”
“You had no way of knowing—it’s fine. And I’ve missed you, too.” She pulled away and
held Marie Dawn at arm’s length. “And look how gorgeous your hair is! It’s almost
to your waist. I love it.”
“So does Neal,” her friend said, beaming.
Mick’s brother Neal and Marie Dawn had eloped when she was still in college, and they
were still as crazy about each other as they’d been the day they said their vows.
Must be nice.
“Let me get you some coffee. How hungry are you? I have a nice Niçoise salad ready,
but I’m dying to hear everything.”
Allie sat down at the painted white kitchen table and let Marie Dawn place a cup of
coffee in front of her while she tried to organize the chaos whirling around in her
brain. She’d lied to Mick that morning when she’d told him she was fine. And either
she’d done a great job of it, or he’d been anxious enough to get away that he’d accepted
it. Maybe a little of both.
“Everything is a lot,” she said, playing with her coffee mug.
Marie Dawn sat down across from her. “Okay. Pick a place and start.”
Allie blew out a breath. “Well . . . Mick came to my place to pick me up, and things
started to happen right away. I mean, it was obvious who was in charge from that first
moment. And I liked it. I’m not complaining. We had an amazing scene at the club.
Everything went really smoothly.” She laughed. “Well, not smoothly, maybe. The play
was a little too rough for that to be the right word. But I know you don’t really
want to know that part.”
Marie Dawn smiled. “Nope. The sexy stuff with my brother-
in-law I don’t need to hear. I’ll just mentally fill in the blanks. Or not. Go on.”
“So, during aftercare we talked . . . and it was good. Honest. More honest than we’ve
ever been, probably. I made him talk to me about what had gone wrong with us. In high
school, and after that night we spent together later.”
“And?”
Allie bit her lip. “And . . . I asked him if we could start again. I didn’t expect
to blurt it out the way I did, and I think he was surprised, too. Although neither
of us should be, I suppose. I wouldn’t have forced this whole thing if that wasn’t
at least part of my intention. And he wouldn’t have accepted—and he certainly wouldn’t
have come back for a second round after that first night—if that weren’t part of his
intention, too. At least I think so. Things got a little confusing later, but at the
club after the scene we really talked. And he admitted a few things to me—things I’d
already suspected, for the most part. About us. About how he felt after his accident.
I knew it changed him, but I never really saw how deeply breaking his leg, having
the rod surgery, the permanent limp, damaged him, maybe because I only actually saw
him once after that.”
Marie Dawn nodded pensively. “I knew he never got over not being able to be a firefighter.
Neal and I have talked about it. The whole family is aware of it. They’ve always been
careful not to guilt-trip him about it.”
“They don’t need to—I think he does enough of that himself. He feels so ashamed. Because
of the family, and because of that family pride in New Orleans, being a part of it.”
“Which is crazy,” Marie Dawn said. “I told you how much volunteer work he did after
Katrina. For
three years
he worked on rebuilding people’s homes with Jamie’s brother, Allister. He
still volunteers once in a while if a particular project comes up. It’s not as if
he’s never paid his dues to this city. He likes to pretend he’s a badass, with all
that bare-knuckle boxing stuff and his leather jackets, but he’s as good a citizen
as any of his brothers.”
“I know. But he’s obviously never gotten over it. It’s really shaped how he feels
about himself. And maybe how he feels about me.”
“In the past, or now?”
“Both, maybe. Because things were going really beautifully last night and then he
just . . . turned away from me. Literally. Everything was amazing and . . . beautiful.
And then he wouldn’t look at me anymore.”
Tears burned in her eyes, and she pressed against them with both hands.
Marie Dawn put a hand on her arm. “Oh, no,
chérie
, my sweet, please don’t be so sad. Men can be stupid creatures. Believe me, I know—I’ve
been married to one for ten years.”
Allie had to smile. She took her hands away from her face and grasped both of her
friend’s. “You’re right. And Mick’s stubborn as hell, too—a combination that scares
me. But I know if I turn away we won’t have a chance.”
“It’s often the woman who has to take care of a relationship. And that’s my sexist
comment for the day. But I think you’ll need to if you two are going to have a shot
at being together. Because to get Mick to admit he’s afraid of anything will be pretty
much impossible.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “That’s for sure. I just have to hang in there and see how
this all plays out, I guess.”
“You can do it. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
“I don’t always feel strong. But I’m trying.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
Allie shrugged. She’d been wondering the same thing all morning. “I don’t know. We
didn’t actually talk about it. I assumed I’d just wait to hear from him, but now I
think I’ll send him an email and ask.”
“Sweetie, just call him and demand his time.” Her friend tapped her temple. “Stupid,
remember?”
Allie laughed. “I remember. Okay, I’ll call him.”