Hard Case (Hard as Nails #2) (12 page)

BOOK: Hard Case (Hard as Nails #2)
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“And he normally does? Share, I mean?”

Slate shakes his head. “No. Of all of us, he’s the one with the most secrets. He’s also the one least likely to ask for help, and given who we all are, that’s saying a lot.”

Right. For all their easy friendship, neither Slate nor Jericho seem to be the type of men who’d ask for help easily. I can only imagine, if they’re concerned, how stubborn this Axel must be about handling things solo.

“Well, I’m sure when he’s back, you’ll figure things out. It’s nice, that you have each other now, after not having any real family for so long.”

“It is nice. Jericho and Axel. Davis and Street. They’re good friends. I watch their backs. And they watch mine. So don’t think Jericho was speaking lightly when he said you can go to him if you ever need help.”

I laugh softly. “That’s sweet, but he has no reason to help me.”

“You’re important to me, Rose. That’s reason enough.”

I suck in a quick breath at how dead-serious he looks. I shouldn’t be so surprised. In the short time we’ve known each other, Slate’s done so much for me. And he’s come to mean a lot to me, as well.

“Now,” he says, “our little detour to Nailed aside, did you have a good time today?”

“I had a great time, and that
includes
our brief little detour.” I sit at an angle in my seat so I can watch his face while he drives. The serious look he gets when he’s trying to hide behind his professionalism is gone, and I’m staring at the real Slate.

He drives with his left hand on the steering wheel while his right hand rests on his knee. I hesitate only briefly before I reach over and take his hand, holding it over the center console. I watch him cut his eyes down to see what I’m doing. His expression doesn’t change, but he squeezes my hand, then shifts our grip so it’s resting back on his leg.

“Can we go back to the movies sometime? I mean…even if it’s as friends.”

“Sure. We can go whenever you want,” he says, and he’s not just throwing an answer out there so I’ll shut up and leave him alone. He really means that he’ll take me to the movies again.

“Can we catch a play or something next time?”

“I don’t see why not,” he responds. “But I thought movies were your thing,” he says. “In fact, I thought
Disney
movies were your thing.”

“I love Disney movies,” I admit, “but show me a woman who doesn’t appreciate the theater, who doesn’t love a good play or a good musical. You’ll be hard pressed to find one, I’m sure,” I tell him.

“I’ve got quite a few selections of movies and stage productions at home, too, in case we can’t make it to the theater, or in case what you want to watch isn’t showing,” he suggests.

Or in case you want to make out or sleep together afterward. Is the implication in his voice or in my own head?

“It’s too early for all of that,” I tell him. “You don’t offer a woman a substitution for going to the theater after your first date.”

He laughs. “Look, all I’m saying is if you want to watch something at home, I have quite a selection of movies and stage productions you can pull up on the TV. And it’s all digital, so there are no DVDs to fuss with.”

I pull my hand back from his. “Sounds to me like you’re trying to get out of another date,” I tease.

“Okay, we’ll check and see what the next stage show is going to be at the theater, and we’ll go. How’s that?” he fires back.

“Sounds like a plan,” I tell him.

“Then, it’s settled,” he says. “Who knows, maybe we can catch a performance of
Beauty and the Beast
next time.”

“Another of my favorites,” I add.

“I get the feeling the sappier any movie is, the more you like it.”

“Probably. But, after what I’ve been through, I think that’s okay. What do you think? Am I completely hopeless?”

“I’ll tell you what I think,” he says as we pull back into his drive way. He puts the car in park and turns to me. “I think when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore. When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine, that’s amore.”

I roll my eyes and laugh as I open the door to get out, but he follows me up the walk, still singing “
That’s Amore”
to me. I hurry to the door, pretending it’s in an effort to stop him, but I can’t fight the smile spreading across my face.

He sings the whole song, every last word of it, as he fishes for his keys in his coat pocket, pulling them out and unlocking the door as he reaches the last words and reaching, in turn, for me. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him as he pushes the door open.

He kisses me, finally. Our lips meet and part as our tongues rush out to tangle between our mouths.

I put my arms around his neck and clutch him close to me, savoring the feel of his body against mine, savoring his lips on mine.

He pulls me into the house with him, and we continue kissing. I hear the door close behind me, and I feel his body shuffling in front of me as he pulls off his coat and loosens his tie. I hear his shoes hit the floor as he kicks them off and continues pulling me with him into the living room.

We part at the bottom of the stairs as he takes the first step up. My eyes open to see him staring down at me, tempting me to follow him up. He takes my hand and pulls me up behind him in silence.

We hurry up the winding staircase to his room. He opens the door and turns to face me, pulling me to him. We kiss again, and he turns me around as his hands slide underneath my shirt and unclasp my bra quickly.

He pushes me back a few steps with his lips, and I feel the side of the bed against the backs of my legs. He pulls my shirt off and pushes me down onto the mattress.

His bed is much larger than mine– and the mattress is firmer.

He tosses my shirt to the floor, and my bra falls off, exposing my breasts. I run my hands over my soft flesh and squeeze my nipples for him.

“Disney movies really turn you on, don’t they?” he teases me as he pulls off his belt and tosses it aside.

I give him a little devious laugh of my own and narrow my eyes at him. “You wish, don’t you?”

He unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the floor, pulling his undershirt over his head. “All those cartoon animals falling in love really gets your juices flowing, huh?”

“Keep talking trash,” I tease back, sliding off my black pants and lace panties, exposing myself to him completely now. I spread my legs and open myself with my fingers, sliding one inside of me to feel how wet I am. “It’s not the movie turning me on,” I tell him.

I rub my clit, arching my back and squeezing my breast with the other hand.

“No fair starting the show without me,” he teases.

“Then, you better hurry up, because I’m not going to wait on you forever,” I respond in gasps.

He drops his pants and removes his boxers, revealing the large shaft standing at full attention for me. I pull my fingers away from between my legs and reach for him.

“Is this what you want?” he teases, showing it to me and keeping it just out of reach.

I whimper for it and stretch my arm out to reach a little further.

He pulls away from me. “Not until you admit the movie turned you on,” he teases again.

“Fine.” I lean back and grab the sheets as desire ripples through my body. “Disney movies make me want you,” I tell him.

“That sounded even better than I imagined,” he says as he climbs on top of me.

I feel him slide onto my stomach as his fingers slide down between my wet lips. Two of them enter me, sending a jolt of pleasure through me immediately as they pass my entrance.

I grab his shoulders and gasp as his fingers explore the extent of my depth, reaching all the way into me.

“Take me, Slate,” I beg him. “I want you inside of me.”

He draws his fingers back slowly, hitting my g-spot on the way out. My body jerks as he passes it. And again on the way back in.

I angle my hips toward him, opening myself to him a little wider. I pull him down to me and force our lips to meet again.

As our lips and tongues dance together, his fingers work furiously inside of me. I can feel myself growing wetter by the moment for him, aching for him to be inside of me. His fingers just aren’t the same.

I pull my lips back from his and whisper in his ear, “I need you inside of me, Slate. Please, take me. Don’t make me come before you’re inside of me.”

I’m dangerously close to the edge with his fingers coaxing me ever closer to euphoric ecstasy.

His thumb reaches up to my clitoris and strokes me, snatching my breath away.

“You want to be my Disney princess?” he asks me breathlessly.

The question turns me on, not because it’s hot, but because he thinks it is. I can feel him hardening on my stomach as he asks me.

I try to fight the pleasure growing in my body. I try to hold it back. I don’t want to give him the pleasure of getting me off before he enters me.

“Please,” I beg him.

“Please what?” he teases.

“Please, Slate. I want you inside of me.”

“That’s not good enough,” he continues to tease.

“Please, baby, give it to me,” I beg him.

“Give what to you, Rose?” he asks.

I realize what he wants me to say. I’m not used to talking during sex, certainly not talking dirty. I gasp, trying to buy time.

He pulls his fingers out of me, leaving a void where something should be thrusting into me. I roll my hips, trying to get something to go inside of me – his fingers, his shaft, his mouth, I don’t care. “Not until you tell me exactly what you want,” he demands.

I don’t want to say it. I don’t know if I can. I writhe underneath him. The absence of his touch hurts.

He positions his head just beyond my lips. I can feel it lightly brushing the wet folds of skin between my legs. I can’t take it anymore. I finally blurt out what he wants to hear.

“Fuck me, Slate,” I demand. “Shove your cock inside of me.” The words are so satisfying coming out of my mouth. They feel like what I’m asking for.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he says in his devious, teasing tone. Then he pulls away from me. I almost protest, until I see he’s pulled out a condom and is tearing the packet like a mad man. He rolls it on, sliding himself into me, stretching me again.

I arch my back. It’s all I can do not to explode around him immediately.

 

* * *

 

Slate

 

Hearing those words come from her filthy mouth is almost enough to make me come for her as soon as I touch her. I slide inside of her, feeling her lips wrap around me to accept every inch of me into her. She’s so warm, wet, and inviting, I have to hold back the pleasure that’s been growing inside of me.

I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her up against me, holding her so my head strokes her g-spot every time I thrust into her and pull back. I feel her body jerk beneath me with pleasure. She gasps each time, letting me know I’m hitting the right spot.

I pant as I slide inside her, and I feel her stretch to accept me.

She wraps her legs around my hips and wraps her arms around my shoulders, riding me from underneath. Her body shivers as she gets closer to release.

Her breath comes out in ragged bursts. She arches, and her muscles contract as she squeezes me, coaxing my orgasm.

I rock my hips and she yelps, clutching me tighter.

“Oh god, Slate,” she pants. “Oh god, I’m going to come.” Her body shakes, and I imagine the orgasm ripping through her. I feel her growing wetter as her pleasure floods out of her and onto me.

I rock my hips again. She clings to me, not letting me move too far in any one direction as she grows tighter around me. Her body continues to shiver beneath me. Her breath even seems to shake.

I’m close. So close.

“Come. Give it all to me, baby,” she coaxes me.

And I come like a fucking freight train, my body shaking, my throat pushing out an almost animalistic sound I’ve never made before. I collapse on top of her, and we struggle to get our breathing under control.

“Now, that’s how I want my fairytale to end every time.”

I laugh and kiss her deeply, then press my forehead to her. “Damn straight,” I say. “It can end that way every night if you want it to,” I tell her.

“Is that an offer, Mr. Rawlings?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how you answer.”

She arches her back and tightens around me, making me moan.

“Like that answer?”

“I do. So much I want you to do it again. And again.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“You can have me like that any time you want,” she says. “My god, if that’s how it’s supposed to feel, I’ve been missing out.”

I kiss her bare shoulder and whisper in her ear, “It’s not supposed to be that fast.”

“Oh god,” she calls out. “I don’t know if I could handle it for much longer than that, Slate.”

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