Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (22 page)

JRad cradled her head, supporting her neck and adjusting the angle so Razor slid in easier. Already on edge, it wouldn’t take much to set him off. Izzy knocked him away from the brink when her teeth scraped him a bit as he retreated.

“Careful, baby.” JRad coached her. She reached out and squeezed his friend’s supportive hand although her gaze never left Razor’s. “Wrap your lips over your teeth.”

Razor could never have provided the coherent assistance his friend did. He’d owe the man a year’s supply of his favorite microbrew for escorting Izzy through this.

“Good, very good.” JRad stroked her hair, calming her until her throat relaxed and Razor’s cock plunged to the limits of her mouth. “There. Now, if you can, try to lick the underside of his shaft as he moves.”

Fuck!
It made him ten times hotter to be the subject of JRad’s manipulation. When his friend nodded at him, Razor pumped his hips a bit, letting Izzy slurp on him like her favorite treat. His balls tapped her chin, sending a riot of sparks up his spine.

“Ah, you’ve almost got him now.” The corner of JRad’s mouth turned up in a wicked grin. “Here’s a hint. The spot just beneath the ridge on the head is the most sensitive. Suck the tip of his cock when he’s at the top of a stroke. Make him work to bury inside you.”

“Son of a bitch!” Razor growled at the intensity of his pleasure when Izzy did as instructed. A spurt of precome escaped his clenched muscles. His princess hummed around him in appreciation of his flavor.

“Do you want him to come in your mouth?” JRad watched out for her. “If not, you’d better stop now. He’s close. Look at the cords in his throat and the way his hands are clamped on his thighs.”

Instead of pushing him away, Isabella shook off JRad’s hand. She clenched Razor’s ass in her dainty yet firm grip. She devoured him, tightening the ring of her lips to strangle the head of his cock before swirling her tongue along the underside of his shaft. When he bumped the rear wall of her throat, her lips settled around the base of his straining erection. His sac gathered close to his body, preparing to erupt.

“Swallow him, baby.” JRad drove the final nail in his coffin. “Now.”

Izzy followed orders, dragging Razor into orgasm. He tried to pull out, to be tender, but she refused to permit him to retreat. He came so hard he thought his head might explode as he poured his semen down her throat. She swallowed, ingesting every last drop of his desire.

Even when he finally came to his senses, she continued to lave his softening flesh, cleaning him as she brought him to Earth gradually.

“You’re a natural. This guy is one lucky bastard.” JRad dropped a kiss to Izzy’s forehead, in greater proximity to Razor’s cock than any man had been before. Neither of them seemed weirded out, though. When JRad slid from the bed, he grimaced at the wet stain on the front of his jeans. “Damn it. Too bad you’re so fucking short, kid. I’m stealing a pair of cargos. I’ll clean up then hold off the squad until you’re ready to rejoin us.”

They exchanged a long look. Something momentous passed between them. Razor knew a bond had formed that could never be broken. He wanted to thank his friend. Unnecessary words would only cheapen the situation. JRad nodded, turning to rummage through Razor’s dresser for a minute before slipping into the bathroom.

Razor tucked his cock into his jeans. He covered Izzy with the comforter when she began to shiver. He snagged a three-quarter sleeved baseball shirt from the top of the rusted radiator. On her it’d be better than a nightgown.

When he reached the side of the bed, he sat, unable to face her. He dropped his head into his hands, his elbows braced on his knees.

“Please don’t beat yourself up over this.” She kneeled behind him, laying her cheek on his shoulder. “I threw you for a loop. I couldn’t stand to endanger you. Or your friends. Still can’t. It’s not exactly a great way to repay the only man who’s ever cared about me.”

“But you promise to tell us everything, right?” Stress eroded some of the relief from his orgasm. “Let us decide how to handle this. It’s our job, you know. Despite what you might have heard on the news, some of us are pretty good at it.”

“I trust you.” She wrapped her arms around his chest. “I swear I’ll explain it all. What I know anyway. The truth is…”

He shifted in her arms, turning to face her. “What, sweetheart?”

“I’m so tired. I couldn’t keep this up for long on my own.”

“Come here, Izzy.” He dragged her into his lap, nuzzling the cloud of her hair. “You don’t have to stand alone. We’re here to help.”

“I’m ready to talk.” Her sigh dusted his neck. “Can we head into the other room now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Razor cupped her cheek in his palm. He kissed her with all the affection he could muster. It wasn’t half of what he’d like to give. “Arms up.”

He slipped the shirt over her head. A ridiculous thrill filled him when she swam in his clothes. Then he gathered her into his arms.

“If it starts to be too much, say the word. I’ll make them stop.”

“I’ll be okay.” She patted his chest before snuggling closer. “As long as you’re with me.”

“No worries there, Izzy. I’m not leaving your side for anything.”

“Thank you, James.”

“Anytime.”

Chapter Fifteen

Razor carried Isabella to the sofa. He sat, angling her close to his pounding heart. She caressed the scars beneath his shirt, regretting the strain she continued to burden him with.

After a couple of cleared throats and a host of shuffling feet, Mason forged through the awkward silence. “Isabella, if you never…”

He glanced at his partner for assistance.

“Consummated your marriage.” Tyler supplied a polite alternative.

“Yeah, if you never did that, you can file for an annulment. We googled it to be sure. I don’t think you need these pictures to break things off with Malcolm, honey. Maybe you’d better tell us how you came by them. And why—”

“You don’t understand.” She cut him off before he could speculate further. “He’ll fight me leaving.”

Razor gripped her tighter to his chest when she shuddered.

“He still loves you?” Clint’s innocent question broke her heart.

“He never loved me.”

“Ah, sweetheart, things might be in the crapper now but I’m sure that’s not true. What did he do, cheat on you?” Matt patted her knee.

She scanned the faces ringing her, surrounding her with their strength. Jeremy sat by Razor’s side, rubbing her feet from his spot in the middle of the couch. Clint took up the far end. Mason and Tyler perched on the scarred coffee table facing them, while Matt kneeled on the carpet beside the couch.

It was now or never.

“He’s accepting bids on my virginity. He hopes to sell me to one of his sleazeball friends.”

She whimpered when Razor’s fingers gouged her bruised rib and her scraped knee.

Amid the curses and sick expressions, Jeremy remained the voice of reason. “Start from the beginning, baby.”

“I already told James about my marriage. You saw the pictures. Malcolm isn’t emotionally or physically capable of a traditional relationship.” She took pride in her calm explanation. “The two-second version is that I’m unbelievably gullible. I thought he wanted me, instead of a permanent partnership with my father. His shortcomings wouldn’t have mattered if he loved me. We could have figured things out. I tried to stick around, to help him…”

She gulped past the knot in her throat. How could she have been so stupid?

“The fucking asshole doesn’t deserve you.” James squeezed her as though he’d never abandon her. “Explain what you said before. What makes you think he’d do…that?”

The raw fury in his quiet question frightened her. She glanced around at the other men in blue for help. All of them together could restrain Razor if needed, right?

Mason crossed his tree-trunk arms over his mammoth chest, nodding in her direction.

“Malcolm’s been in a great mood lately. Almost like old times. We were growing closer, I thought we might start overcoming some of our issues. One night, he asked if I would go out. I thought he planned an early anniversary celebration. He suggested I wear a little black dress, a pair of Jimmy Choo’s, my grandmother’s pearl necklace, the garters and silk stockings I’d ordered hoping…”

She cleared her throat when Razor growled.

“He even encouraged me to use the perfume my father gave me as a wedding gift. It’s one of a kind, made special for me. Supposed to last a lifetime. I can’t begin to guess how expensive it had to have been. Only for special occasions. I was nervous. I hadn’t eaten lunch. Something about the fragrance set me…off balance.”

Isabella caught the squints and frowns the guys shared. She couldn’t stop to consider why or she’d never have the nerve to finish.

“Leaving the house is foggy. He blindfolded me. A surprise, he said. I do remember climbing into Malcolm’s Bentley as he held my hand, but nothing after that. Until I woke in a dark room. I couldn’t move…”

Panic seized her throat. Shivers ran down her spine as though the cold metal still shackled her wrists and ankles to the inclined slab. She’d struggled to free herself until blood trickled over her toes.

“Izzy,” Razor returned her to the present with a shake.

Isabella hated the sobs choking her and the pity radiating from the men surrounding her. She buried her face against Razor’s warm chest.

“You’re safe here. He won’t touch you again. I swear it.”

She focused on breathing steady and slow while someone, probably Jeremy, massaged her shoulders and Razor stroked her hair. When spots stopped dancing behind her lids, she sat up straighter and tried again.

“I was bound. To some kind of platform with manacles. I tried to escape. Nothing budged. I only managed to wrench my ankle and shred the skin beneath the restraints.”

Razor cursed. Jeremy touched the ace bandage on her leg.

“Before I could really freak, someone emerged from the shadows. A woman.
That
woman.” She gestured with her chin to the photo crumpled on the coffee table. “She introduced herself as Lily. I think she shook my hand as though nothing odd had happened. I suppose I could have imagined it between the fuzz in my brain and my fear.”

“That’s fucked up.” Clint grimaced.

“No kidding. Even more odd, the lights were off when she snuck in. I begged her to release me. She refused. The sadistic bitch stuffed my underwear in my mouth to make me shut up and lectured me to listen to her. I couldn’t understand everything she said. She talked so fast. So quiet. The room kept spinning.”

Isabella reached out to grip Razor’s hand before she came to the worst part. He laced their fingers, rubbing his thumb over her wrist.

“I remember her saying more than once, ‘It’s only a showing’. As if I’d know what the hell that is. Well, I didn’t anyway.”

“Son of a bitch.” Mason barked. Tyler refused to meet her gaze.

“Am I the only moron who doesn’t know either?” Razor’s gaze flicked between each of his teammates. No one answered him.

“Voices approached, echoing from a hallway or something. Lily jammed an envelope under me. I couldn’t really focus—didn’t know what she’d done. She pinched my nipple—hard—until I couldn’t ignore her, then told me not to move. Not to allow them see what she’d given me.”

Isabella couldn’t prevent her blush, ridiculous or not.

“Lily kissed me. Smack on the lips. She encouraged me to stay strong.”

Someone to her left wheezed, but she couldn’t stop now.

“Malcolm entered the room. He joked around, laughing with the fake chuckle he trots out around his clients. A second later, light blinded me. By the time I’d adjusted, eight—or maybe nine—men huddled around me.” She didn’t realize she’d clamped onto Razor’s hand until it jerked. His fingers sported crescent indentations from her nails.

Funny, the men hovering near now didn’t spook her one bit.

“Do you remember anything else? Can you tell us? Details, Izzy. Anything to help us pin down a location or the scum involved.”

How could she have gotten lucky enough to stumble into Razor and the other men in blue right when she needed them most? Could there be a God after all? Isabella had harbored some serious doubts lately.

“Malcolm announced he’d been saving me. Like a fine wine. They chuckled, as if they attended a cocktail party in our mansion instead of a
showing
in the dungeon. Almost made me puke. My torso heaved. The edge of Lily’s envelope pricked my back, and I remembered her instructions. Don’t move. I chose a spot on the black, painted ceiling and decided not to tear my gaze from it no matter what. So I didn’t see a ton. Stupid.”

“You did what was necessary to survive.” Mason nodded at her. “Smart, not dumb.”

“It became almost impossible, though.” She rushed on. “He had someone with him, an expert. They examined me. The modified speculum felt like they’d extracted it straight from the freezer.”

Crap! She must be losing it if she’d said that aloud. The cops’ horrified regard stole some of her disassociation. She ignored them, choosing instead to stare at the juncture of her and Razor’s hands.

“When they had certified my innocence, they raised a toast to the best man winning. One of them spoke up. A big guy. He sounded somewhat familiar. I tried so hard not to listen to them—to stay strong like Lily had ordered. He requested another test. Of my pain threshold.”

“We have to bust these sick fuckers.”

She dismissed Razor’s interruption. If she stopped now she’d never regain her composure to tell them the rest.

“Every one of them laughed when he said virgins who spread for rich men were a dime a dozen. They wanted someone who would put up a fight. Give good sport. That’s when they started taking turns slapping me, pinching me and yanking my hair. The only thing keeping me from losing it was Lily’s urging in my mind. Stay strong. Don’t move…”

“Jesus Christ.”

“It pissed them off that I didn’t react despite their escalation. When they didn’t break my resolve, one of them drew out his pocket knife. They cut me. And poured whiskey on the wounds.” She paused to sniffle before snot ran down her face, adding to her humiliation. Someone handed her a tissue.