Losing You (Stars On Fire Book 4) (14 page)

The tumbler dangling from her hand was mostly empty. It surprised him yet it didn’t that she’d already been drinking—alone. He knew the kinds of things she had done in the past . . . the same as Marc. He knew because he’d been there by their sides, doing it right with them . . . on occasion. Normally, he acted as the responsible one, the designated driver.

Tom wasn’t naïve; he knew Marc and Mia did more, knew that they did so because of what they fought internally. Tom worried about both of them and desperately wanted to help, but didn’t know how.

Approaching her chair, Tom called out Mia’s name. Her back straightened and the hand without the drink went to her face, swiping at her eyes. He didn’t want her crying alone. She’d been lost when he’d arrived—lost in that mind of hers, those thoughts dark enough to bring her to this point.

“Hi, Tommy,” she said with a tremulous smile on that gorgeous face of hers. He didn’t like that she tried to hide what was bothering her from him. Not one bit.

He threw a leg over the chair and then pulled her legs on either side of him. “Baby girl . . .”

“Off work?” she asked, ignoring the plea in his previous words.

“Yeah,” he said. Leaning in, he waited for her to meet him the rest of the way. She knew what he expected and her lips quirked in amusement at that, but she did what he wanted and met his lips with her own and kissed him, her luscious lips hugging his bottom one like they always did when she began her kisses. Teasing him a little more, she finally opened her mouth for his attack and his tongue swept into her mouth, pulling her from those depressive thoughts that had her in their clutches just a few moments ago.

Knowing he had to get her out of that house . . . out of her mindset, he broke the kiss. “Pack your stuff. My place tonight.”

A small smile touched her lips. She hadn’t been there yet and this seemed to please her.

Standing as elegantly as she could with him between her legs, Mia skimmed her smooth leg over his thighs. Wrapping his hand around one of her thighs, he reminded her to wear jeans. With a nod, she headed inside. When he made his way down, Mia was zipping up a small duffel bag. Tight jeans hugged her lower half while an equally tight white t-shirt covered her torso. Over that she had on an old leather jacket that she’d had for ages.

“I’m ready,” she offered him.

Grabbing the bag in one hand and her hand in another, Tom led her out of the house and to his bike which he’d parked right in front of her house. After securing her bag to the back rack, he threw a leg over the bike and got on. Mia waited for his okay then joined him, sliding her long fingers over his abs, holding herself to him.

Hoping he’d be hitting the tail end of rush hour, Tom set off. As he maneuvered his bike onto the Eisenhower expressway, her grip tightened around his waist and then he felt her body start to quake. She was crying and his heart broke because of it. He wanted to pull over and console her but he had a feeling the privacy she had right now was the only reason she let herself cry. Picking up speed, Tom wove in and out of traffic as Mia’s body purged itself of whatever it was that had her in its grip.

When he pulled off the highway, her hold loosened on him, but not the vice of her thighs; it got stronger. Her hands fell from his body. Looking in the side mirror, he saw her leaning away from him, her back straight and her arms out wide. There was no smile on her face, but her eyes were closed and her face appeared calmer, though he could still see the tracks left by her tears.

Pulling into his driveway, he killed the engine and they sat in silence. He engaged the stand and stood up, got off, then got back on, this time facing her. Grazing his thumb along her cheek, his eyes moved over her face. A shaky breath passed over her pouty lips.

“Mia?”

She slid down the seat and put her legs over his thighs, her wonderful heat now pressed against his cock. He couldn’t and didn’t stop his response to that. He was a man who loved this woman’s body, who loved sex with her.

“I need you to kiss me, Tom. I need you to make it go away.”

“Make what go away, baby girl?” he pushed.

She pursed her lips and shook her head slightly. “Please, Tom. Kiss me,” she begged, pulling on his shirt.

And he did.

Cupping her face, his lips found hers ready for him. They battled to lead the kiss, teeth and tongues thrashing against the other until she finally submitted to him and let him be in control. Even though she relinquished control of the kiss, her body didn’t submit. He loved the way she ground that pussy of hers against his cock, making him wish he would’ve parked in the garage so he could strip her and put her on his lap and fuck the hell out of her on this bike.

Tom needed her inside now.

Securing her legs around his waist, he stood up, straddling the bike then lifted his leg over. Carrying her up the front steps, he clumsily unlocked the door. Once he crossed over the threshold, he kicked the door shut, his eyes assessing where he wanted her. He didn’t know that yet, but what Tom did know was that he wanted this woman naked. Releasing her, she slid to the floor and stood in front of him, her face flushed with anticipation, awaiting his direction.

“Undress for me, baby girl.”

His words lit a fire in her as she enthusiastically kicked off her shoes at the same time she shed her jacket and then lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. Intent on removing her clothes and not looking at him, those long fingers of hers went straight to her jeans that had definitely seen better days but that looked fucking perfect on her. Sliding the button through the hole, she pulled down the zipper and quickly stepped out of them, kicking them aside.

In only her hot pink bra and thong, she lifted her eyes to his as her hands hovered at her hips, waiting for his word. He didn’t know what he wanted—he was struck by how beautiful she truly was. From the first day he met her almost a decade ago to this moment and every single damn time in between her beauty floored him.

The need to see her from behind drove his next words. “Turn around, Mia, and place both hands on the arm of the sofa,” he ordered and saw the glimmer of a smile touch those gorgeous lips of hers.

She did as he requested, turning quick enough to not seem too eager but slow enough to let him enjoy the show. Mia placed her hands on the sofa, bending just right, making that ass a magnet for his hands. Reaching out, his fingers dug into the flesh and walked to her until his body was flush against hers. He leaned down and put his mouth to her ear, lightly nipping it before he spoke. “How rough, baby girl?”

Her body slumped slightly at his question. Her reaction had him assuming she didn’t want it like that but her next words blew that assumption in the air. “I can’t handle gentle right now. It’ll break me,” she responded, her voice shaky.

Tom didn’t want her going back to the dark place she’d been in earlier at her place—drinking and crying alone—but then again he thought maybe she should discuss what was bothering her. “Mia . . . are you sure? Maybe we can talk instead . . .”

“No, Tom. I
need
you to fuck me. I
need
you to be rough. I need it to hurt.” She said the last sentence so softly that he could barely hear her, but he had. The direness of her need. He wanted it gone, but he didn’t know what to do. Mia needed to talk but, at the same time, he didn’t think she
could
talk because whatever it was completely overwhelmed her. He needed to make her forget the things clouding her beautiful mind.

“Okay, baby girl,” he said before taking a step back. After quickly losing his clothes, he returned to her, his hands back on that tantalizing ass, caressing the smooth skin, feeling it roughen in goose bumps before he pulled back and slapped her ass hard. Her body jumped forward and she cried out in surprise. Maybe that was a little too hard.

“Mia?”

“Again,” she said through what sounded like clenched teeth. He hesitated, but she yelled it this time.

So he did, both cheeks in quick succession. He paused, his eyes focused on the changing color of her skin, the deep pink a stark contrast on her creamy skin. His index finger traced the outline of his hand.

“Tom, please!” she begged. He didn’t know if it was tears or desire causing the hitch in her voice.

“You wet, baby girl?” he asked, slipping the thong strap aside and sliding his finger along the outside of her pussy, feeling the warm, damp skin. “So damn wet, but I think we can get you wetter . . .”

“Fuck . . . yes, please!”

Pushing a finger inside of her, he cracked his hand repeatedly over each cheek, listening to her moan and groan, as she moved her pussy along his finger. His last slap had her scream out and then he heard her cry . . . no, not cry—sob.

Oh shit—too much.

He stopped, removing his finger from its sweet home. “Baby girl, please don’t cry. I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her hair aside so he could see her face.

“Tom, no . . .” she sniffed then continued. “Please fuck me now,” she added.

When he hesitated, she exclaimed, “Do it! I’m not going to break.”

Guiding his cock between her legs, he lined it up and thought, as he thrust inside of her, that he wouldn’t break her physically, but that wasn’t what he was worried about. Emotionally, Mia was about ready to collapse.

The force of his thrust had Mia falling into the arm of the sofa. If she needed to forget, he could do that for her. He’d make her think of nothing but him. He’d consume her.

Wrapping an arm around her chest, Tom pulled her up. With his thumb to her chin, he made her face him. “Keep your eyes on me. You got it?”

Her teeth captured her lower lip and she nodded her head emphatically, snaking an arm around his neck.

He was relentless in his fucking, making her feel it all, until all she could think about was him. Tom didn’t know what it was about Mia that brought out this dominant side in him. Part of it was that he sensed Mia needed the direction. Not to say he didn’t enjoy it—he did—immensely. He liked having her do as he said, liked seeing her turned on by his commands.

“Let it go, baby girl,” he murmured, staring into her dark as night eyes. “I’m here . . . I’m here.”

He saw the instant when whatever had hold of her slipped away. She whimpered and her body slumped forward. With his fingers digging deep into the flesh of her ass, he concentrated on fucking the dark out of her and when she came, she came harder than he’d ever seen anyone come—her whole body spasming beneath him.

Tom fucked Mia until she collapsed on the sofa. He followed her, his heart hammering against her slick back, but after a few minutes, he stood up and lifted her in his arms. After he brought her to his bedroom, he laid her face first on the bed. Sliding his hands up her toned legs, he stopped at her ass where he kissed the bright pink hand marks.

“You okay?” he asked. He’d never hit her like that . . . maybe a few playful slaps but this—she kept asking for it and this had been so intense. For both of them. He’d never seen her come so hard, be so wet, scream so loud.

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled against the blanket. She sounded content. His kisses covered all the pink and when he got close to her pussy, the minx raised her hips to him. A sweet little moan escaped her mouth when he moved away from that addicting pussy of hers.

“You want more?” ‘Cause he did.

“Break. But feels good.”

He laughed at her short, exhausted sentences. Flopping on the bed next to her, he mimicked how she was laying and felt his heart miss a beat when an honest-to-goodness smile broke out on her face.

“So, Mia . . . what do you want to do for the rest of the night? You hungry?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Gonna say anything besides that?”

“After dinner. Conserving energy.”

“Well, I can make you a PB and J sandwich or I can order a pizza.”

“Pizza . . . with breadsticks,” she added in an afterthought.

“Don’t you know it.”

“Thanks,” she said, letting her chocolate eyes close for a moment before she literally rolled out of bed, landing on her feet. “Bathroom?”

“Through that door,” he answered, gesturing to the closed door to his left.

“Be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she sauntered to the master bath.

Grabbing his cell phone, Tom quickly made the pizza order. He was putting the phone on his nightstand at the same moment she walked back into the room. The phone fell from his hand as he took her in—she was fucking gorgeous.

Thirty minutes
, he thought as he regarded her breasts swaying as she crossed the room to him, his dick very much liking what he was saw.

“Come here, baby girl.”

She climbed on the bed and crawled on her hands and knees over to him. When she got to his side, she leaned back on her calves, her hands resting on her lap, awaiting his next order.

“On top,” he said. Without hesitation, she threw a leg over his lap and situated herself on him before sliding her arms around his neck, burying her face in his throat.

Then she sighed.

And he knew without a doubt that he loved her. Those feelings he had for years finally had a name—love. He fucking loved this sweet, beautiful, and complicated woman.

“Feeling better?”

Her head burrowed into his neck a little more before she pulled back and looked at him, a smile flirting with her lips. “Yes, thank you. My ass hurts though,” she said with a chuckle.

He laughed along with her, happy that she was cracking jokes and feeling more like herself instead of what he found earlier that evening on her roof. He felt fear there. Now he didn’t—not at all.

When the doorbell rang, announcing the pizza, he hated that he had to move her, but she climbed off him and said, “Food.”

He threw on a shirt and jeans, grabbed a hat, and headed down to pay. When he returned, Mia had thrown on one of his shirts and looked fine as hell in it. He flipped on the TV, popped the box open, and they dug into the pizza. After they finished eating, he brought her between his legs, her head resting back on his chest, as they watched the movie.

“Mia . . . I need to say something to you . . .”