Jagged (13 page)

I sat in the living room, alone and silent, sipping my beer until it was gone.

Then I went to bed.

* * *

“Ham.”

“
Fuck yeah.
Love that, Zara. Love
you,
baby.”

My eyes opened, my pulse spiked, my nipples ached, my sex throbbed, and my skin was damp.

I’d had another
freaking
dream.

“God, this sucks. This fucking
sucks,
” I whispered into the dark.

I turned, trying to beat it back, finding it difficult at night, the dream so fresh, so real, and Ham in bed down the freaking hall.

I tossed, considered getting out my toy and taking care of business but Ham was down the hall. He slept like me, hard and deep. I didn’t know him to wake up in the middle of the night but, with my luck, I wasn’t taking chances.

Nina suggested I be quiet while I took care of business but that was impossible because my toy was not quiet and, well, I wasn’t either. I wasn’t loud but I made noises. Who didn’t?

I didn’t know if I could squelch them and I was too afraid to try.

I turned then tossed and it didn’t leave me.

Basic needs.

Ham’s words hit me at the same time it hit me I had them, too.

Basic needs.

Oh yes. I had them, too.

“Damn,” I whispered.

It was then Nina’s words came to me.

Roll the dice.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

Except for that disastrous night at The Dog, Ham had not once spent the night somewhere else.

And, if memory served (and I knew it did), he had a high libido. When we were together, we would go out and do stuff, chat, cuddle, goof around.

But we had a
lot
of sex.

Even knowing my mind forced by my desires, my
need,
was leading me through a ludicrous rationalization, I threw the covers back and got out of bed.

Then I sat back down on the bed.

“What am I doing?” I asked the dark.

Roll the dice,
Nina urged.

I could roll the dice. Just that. Roll the dice.

Ham could say no. He could turn me away. That would be mortifying but I was already dealing with tough crap with regards to Ham on a day-to-day basis. I could live with that.

Or, if I rolled the dice, we both could understand we knew what this was and we could give each other something.

I pushed up from the bed and headed to the door.

“This is crazy, stupid, scary,” I whispered.

I still opened the door and walked down the hall to Ham’s room.

I stopped at his door.

Was I going to do this?

I opened his door.

I guessed I was.

I moved to his bed. He was on his side, facing me. He had the blinds open and a hand shoved under his pillow. The covers were to his waist and he had nothing on up top. Not unusual. If it was cold, Ham would put on pajama bottoms but mostly he slept nude.

Even in the dark, he was hot.

I sat on the side of his bed and he jerked awake, sitting up, his hand flashing out and curling, hard and tight, around the back of my neck as I gasped.

He came fully awake. His hand didn’t leave me but it relaxed and he growled sleepily, “Jesus, fuck, you scared the fuckin’ shit outta me.”

And I would. I hadn’t thought about it but the last time someone snuck into his room while he was sleeping, they’d been wielding an ax.

“God, Ham, I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” I whispered, lifting a hand and putting it on his chest, feeling the crisp hair there, wanting to slide my fingers through so badly, my mouth watered with the need.

His hand slid to the side of my neck.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“You sick?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“What’s up, baby?”

Before I lost my courage, I blew on the dice and let fly.

In other words, I leaned into him, aiming fortunately accurately, and my mouth hit his.

His body stilled.

I touched my tongue to his lips.

His mouth opened.

My tongue slid inside.

Then I was on my back in his bed, his arms around me.

Way back when, we could get heated. Especially after a period of absence, the first time was fast and rough and wonderful.

This was different.

It was fast. It was rough.

And it was desperate.

Ham took over the kiss even as he yanked up my nightgown. I lifted my arms over my head. He broke the kiss and the nightgown was gone.

He came back, mouth to mine, kissing me, hungry. No,
greedy.
Devouring. Amazing. And I kissed him back the same way, my hands moving on him, roaming, pressing, nails scratching, just as greedy as our mouths.

Ham broke the kiss to shift down, lifting one of my breasts. His lips closed around my nipple and he pulled hard.

My back arched. My leg forced its way out from under his and curled around his thigh as I drove my hands into his hair.

He came back to my mouth, drinking, consuming, his thumb now at my nipple, pressing deep and circling, rubbing, pulling. I moaned into his mouth, unwrapped my leg from his thigh, planted my foot in his bed, and rolled him.

Then I took from him. Everything. My mouth, tongue, and teeth at his neck, his chest, his nipples, down, down, he opened his legs, cocking his knees, and I saw his cock, hard and thick, resting on his stomach.

And I wanted that. Badly.

So I ran my tongue up the underside from base to tip.

He grunted, one hand plunging in my hair, fisting. I wrapped his cock in my hand, shifted, moved my hand away, and took him deep.

“Jesus,” he growled, his hips thrusting up, his other hand coming to my face, palm to my cheek, thumb out and resting along my lower lip so he could feel it two ways as I worked his cock.

I was giving it to him, God, finally giving it to him and loving it.

Head was not my favorite thing to give. I’d do it, I liked it all right, but I’d pick other things to do above that.

With Ham, I couldn’t get enough. I never could. I loved his reaction. I loved how I could make him lose control. I loved the taste of him. The feel of him in my mouth.

I loved everything about it.

As it would turn out, I loved it too much.

So much, I had to shove a hand between my legs and touch myself because just taking him there was making me hot. So hot, I was close to exploding.

But I had him so I should
have
him.

And I was going to take him.

I slid him out of my mouth, dropped to a hip, tugged off my panties, threw them to the side, and crawled over him.

“Zara—” he called, his deep voice guttural.

I didn’t reply.

I wrapped my hand around his cock again, guided him to me, and, with a rough, desperate downward plunge, I impaled myself on him.

His groan shook the room, his hips thrust up, and his hands went to my hips. My hands went to me, one finger to my clit, one hand to my breast, fingers closing around my nipple as, head back, mindless, I rode him and I did it hard.

“Babe—” he called again but I didn’t respond because I was there.

Crying out, moving with abandon, I came, the fire of it exploding between my legs and shooting through me, splitting me open, ripping me wide, and I loved every second.

Vaguely, I felt Ham’s arms come around me and I was on my back, Ham driving rough and deep. With one of his arms under me, hand curled around the back of my neck to hold me stationary, I took his beautifully brutal thrusts as I came down and he took himself there.

I knew when he made it because his fingers at my neck drove into my hair, fisted, holding my head steady and he slammed his mouth down on mine as he thrust his cock to the root and groaned down my throat.

I held him tight, my arms around him, my legs bent, feet in the bed, thighs pressed to his hips, and I traced his lower lip with my tongue, thinking Nina was right.

Rolling the dice was a good thing to do.

I barely finished this thought when Ham unexpectedly pulled out and rolled off, settling on his back.

I blinked into the dark in surprised confusion.

Something about this was not right. Ham was affectionate, especially in bed. He never pulled out until he had no choice. He caressed, cuddled, nuzzled, nipped, licked, kissed, whispered.

He’d never pulled out and rolled away.

I shifted to my side, preparing to lift up on a forearm and reach out to him but I froze solid when he spoke.

“Got a taste for your fuck toy, babe, at least let me roll on a goddamned condom before you use me to find it.”

Oh shit, part one. We didn’t use protection.

This wasn’t exactly bad. I was on The Pill but Ham always used protection.

And oh shit, part everything. He thought I’d used him as a fuck toy?

“Ham?” I called, beginning to reach out but he rolled off the bed and started through the shadows to the bathroom.

He did this speaking.

“That was fuckin’ awesome. Mood strikes you, you know where I am.” He stopped at the bathroom door and turned to me. “But I sleep alone, baby, and we’re done tonight so do me a favor and find your bed.”

After delivering that, the bathroom door closed behind him.

Evidence was suggesting that maybe I shouldn’t have rolled the dice.

My body was hot everywhere and not in good ways. I was scared, worried, and I had no clue what to do. I had no clue why Ham reacted like that.

I just knew, when he got out of the bathroom, he didn’t want me in his bed.

So I jumped out of it, snatched up my panties, found my nightgown, ran naked to my own room, and closed the door.

* * *

For the next two days I avoided Ham as best I could, seeing as we lived and worked together.

During the days, this was easy. I got the hell out of the condo and stayed out until I went to work.

At work, Ham helped. He seemed just as happy to avoid me as I did him and, luckily, Jake was working so Ham stayed distant any time I approached the bar and I used Jake.

Driving to The Dog myself and Ham being the manager and not picking up any blondes, he stayed later. When he was my ride, I usually hung out while he dealt with shit. Now, I used it as a way to get home and behind my bedroom door before he got home.

It was the second night, lying in bed, hearing him come home and close the door to his room, that I understood what had happened with Ham.

Greg and I, in the beginning, had a good sex life. It wasn’t as good as Ham but then, unfortunately for Greg and bitchily for me, nothing about Greg was.

After we were married, when I was losing myself and the distance was forming between us, the sex went bad. We had it but we had it in a way where we had it only, it seemed, because we were supposed to.

Greg got off entirely, my guess, due to biology.

I never did.

So with that and with the fact I hadn’t had a man in some time, I lost myself in what I was doing, what was happening, and the fact it was Ham.

And he would know I lost myself.

I’d never done that with him. I could lose myself in sex with him but it was always
with him.
I never rode him like that. Usually, when I was on top, I was bent to him, touching him, kissing him, nuzzling him. Or he was sitting up, doing all that to me.

The other night, I didn’t use him to get off. I knew who I was riding.

But I could see how he didn’t think the same.

I could also see how that could piss him off.

I’d walked to his room in the dead of night, scared him, came onto him, and rode him to climax without even discussing protection and stupidly not using it.

It was a shit thing to do.

I’d fucked up and I needed to do what he did when he was out of line.

I needed to apologize so we could get past it.

I also needed to do it soon. We lived together. We worked together. If there were different-sized elephants in rooms, ours was one of the biggest. If I didn’t sort this out, we’d both be smushed.

“No time like the present,” I muttered, throwing back the covers and, with determination, walking to his room.

He wouldn’t be asleep. He’d just gotten home.

Though there was no light coming from under his door and no answer when I lightly knocked.

I sucked in a breath, opened the door to dark, and stuck my head in.

“Ham?”

“What?”

Damn. That wasn’t inviting.

I considered backtracking, telling him we’d talk later or just saying, “Nothing,” and getting the hell out of there.

I didn’t do that.

I slowly walked in and went to the side of his bed where I could see the shadow of his body.

I stopped close and started to speak.

“I know it’s late but we…
eeeek!
”

The “eek” came when Ham’s hand darted out, latched onto my wrist, and yanked me off my feet so I fell on him then he rolled us both so he was on top and I was pinned under him.

Then he kissed me.

Not thinking, not for an instant, I kissed him back.

We didn’t do this very long but we did it very well. So well I was completely lost in him when he broke the kiss and growled, “Tonight you get
my
mouth. Nightgown off, cookie.”

If there was a world record for getting a nightgown off, I was sure I beat it as I yanked mine up and over my head.

While I did, Ham slid down me, hooked a finger in the side of my panties, and tore them down my legs. He barely got them clear and tossed away before his hands went to the backs of my knees. He lifted them, spread them wide, settled, and his mouth was on me.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, my head pressing into the mattress, my legs tensing, my sex spasming against his mouth.

He could do this, Ham could. He got off on it like I got off on taking him in my mouth.

But this was different.

This was like our kiss the other night. His mouth was hungry, greedy,
desperate.
He sucked my clit. He fucked me with his tongue. He nipped the juncture of my thigh with his teeth, making me whimper, then he came back to me and gave me more. All the while his big, rough hands held my bent legs high and spread wide.