Revved (Axle Alley Vipers) (16 page)

Chapter Twenty

R
usty grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip. The restaurant Deke had booked for the evening was gorgeous. The food great, the alcohol flowing. She’d been working toward a good buzz and keeping it since she got here, but it wasn’t really happening, no matter how hard she tried.

Looking across the room, she spotted Deacon and Alex as they moved from guest to guest. Her brother was showing off his bride-to-be, couldn’t help himself. The guy was so damned ecstatic to finally have her where she belonged, at his side, that he hadn’t let her out of his sight.

Rusty understood it. God, she loved watching them together. The way her brother looked at Alex—the adoration, the I-can’t-fucking-believe-she’s-mine expression he often wore—made Rusty’s heart smile. If anyone deserved that, Alex did. But she missed her friend. Since she’d moved in with Deke, a lot of things had changed.

It was selfish, but Rusty needed her. Needed her and Pipe both, more than she wanted to admit. They were used to her getting on with things, getting over whatever upset her and shaking it off. This time wasn’t going to be quite so easy.

Alex laughed at something Deacon said. They were in a huddle with another pair of dudes in suits. God, she was doing great, holding her own with these people. She’d been nervous, but Deacon had been there for her the whole night, his hand possessively on her hip, making sure she knew he had her back, that he wouldn’t leave her hanging. Her big brother was one of the good ones, and she was glad they’d finally found their way to each other.

Checking out the other side of the room, she spotted her sister. Piper had arrived an hour ago but was acting kind of weird, had barely said two words to her. She seemed on a mission to have a good time, and Rusty smiled when she saw her talking to some guy, her head thrown back laughing at something he’d said. Perhaps she’d been more serious than Rusty had realized when she’d made the whole “no more waiting” speech the other week.

Some guy approached Rusty by the nibbles table, and she smiled to be polite, which turned out to be a stupid thing to do because the man opened his mouth and started yammering. She tuned him out, unable to even pretend to be sociable. Suddenly, being here, it was all too much, and just maintaining a neutral expression was work. Hopefully, he’d figure out she wasn’t in the talking mood and go bore someone else. Taking another sip of her drink, she scanned the rest of the party, discreetly checking out the clock above the main door. Maybe she could sneak away soon. She’d been here for a couple hours, and Alex was doing fine without her.

The door opened and her gaze automatically dropped to the man walking through. He wore a black suit, his shirt bright white and stark against his tanned skin. He wasn’t wearing a tie, the top button open, showing a dusting of dark hair. Lifting her gaze, she took in the grim set to his lips, his neatly trimmed beard, the strong crooked nose. Last, her gaze landed on his thick, darkly lashed brown eyes—that were locked on her.

Her stomach dropped, and she actually stumbled back a step. The guy beside her, who up until that point had still been flapping his jaw, grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Hey, are you okay?”

She straightened. “I’m fine.”

His forehead creased. “You’re sure?”

What the hell was Reid doing here?

Then she saw her sister watching from the sidelines, guilt plastered all over her traitorous face. It wasn’t hard to work out her errand had nothing to do with Alex and everything do with the man now heading straight for her.

Goddammit.

Heart hammering against her rib cage, she turned away and, tipping her glass up, downed the last few mouthfuls of champagne.

“Do you want another drink?” The yapper said from beside her.

She shook her head, about to decline, when she felt Reid approach, felt him move up behind her, close. So close, she could feel the heat of his body against her skin, the brush of his jacket on her bare back.

“Rusty.” The rasp of his voice skated over her flesh, causing her to shiver.

Why was he doing this to her?

“Look at me.”

She shook her head. “No. Just turn around and leave.”

“She’s fine,” Reid’s deep voice rumbled, so low it seemed to move through her. “I’ll take it from here.”

She realized he was talking to the yapper. She didn’t miss how the guy’s eyes widened fractionally before he gave a stiff nod, turned on his shiny dress shoes, and without a word strode off. Reid snorted.

“What was that?” She spun around to let him have it, but the words died in her throat when her eyes locked with his, the intensity, the hunger there plain to see.

His brows drew together. “I can’t believe you agreed to go out with that guy. He just left you here, with me. Didn’t even fight for you.”

She didn’t bother correcting him, too stunned by what she was hearing. “Like
you
fought for me?”

His entire body, which was already huge, seemed to grow in size, surrounding her. His hands landed on her hips, and he drew her closer. She was too stunned to move, to shove him away, her body too frickin’ happy at having him close to do anything but absorb the warmth and smell of him. “That’s why I’m here, to tell you I was wrong, to apologize for being an asshole…and yeah, to fight for you.”

His words snapped her out of her daze, and she wrapped her fingers around his wrists to push them away, but he tightened his grip, his thick fingers digging into her flesh in a way that made her breathless, needy.
God, I’m pathetic.
“It’s too late.”

“It’s not.” He dipped his head, resting his forehead against hers. “Let me explain, Foxy.”

“Dammit, Reid. I said it’s too late.”

He ran his nose along her cheek, kissed the skin below her ear. “It’s not,” he repeated, voice rough. “It can’t be.”

She tried to wriggle free, tried to ignore the way his voice, his words affected her, but it was no use. “You threw me away. Now you just expect me to forgive you and come back?”

“I fucked up. I got scared. And because of that, I made the wrong decision. The worst decision of my whole fuckin’ life.” Those big warm hands left her hips and slid around her waist, one resting at the small of her back, the other sliding up her spine to thread in her hair, effectively holding her immobile. “Let me explain, Rusty. Give me a chance to make it right.”

Maybe she’d lost her mind, but she wanted to hear what he had to say. He’d hurt her, badly, but deep down, no matter how hard she’d tried to deny it, she’d known there was more to it. She didn’t know much about relationships, but she knew what they had, and it was something special. Something beautiful and exciting and scary as hell. But something she couldn’t just turn her back on without hearing what he had to say first. “Fine.”

He released a breath and leaned in, those sexy lips heading for hers. Like hell. She slapped her hand over his mouth. “No kissing. There will be no goddamn kissing. You haven’t explained, and I sure as hell haven’t forgiven you.”

She felt him smile against her palm, but it didn’t meet his eyes. He slid his hand down her arm, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, and removed her hand from his mouth. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“My place.”

He started towing her across the restaurant toward the exit, and she yanked on his hand. “Oh, no. No, no, no. No way am I going to your place. You’ll use your sex juju on me and before I know it, I’ll be naked and in your bed, and we won’t get any talking done. You’re not going to distract me with sex. We talk here.”

His grin got wider, eyes sparkling dangerously. “Sex juju?”

“You know what I mean. Stop acting all innocent. You’re a damn sexual deviant, and you know it.”

“Good to know you find me so hard to resist.”

She ignored his comment and started walking in the other direction, heading to the small outdoor dining area she’d spotted earlier. “Out here.”

The courtyard was set up for alfresco dining, but no one was out here tonight. It was surrounded by trellises covered in red roses, their sweet scent permeating the air. Gas lanterns, placed strategically, bathed everything in a warm golden glow. She tried to ignore all of it—romantic was the last thing they needed—and headed to one of the tables. It was off to the side, out of direct view from the door, and where the lamps didn’t quite reach. She took a seat and so did Reid, but instead of taking the one across from her, he came around and sat beside her, close enough that his heavy thigh pressed against hers.

Resting his elbows on the table, he reached out and took her hand. She contemplated pulling away, but then when he turned to her, all humor gone, expression stricken, she got the feeling he needed to hold on to something…to her.

He glanced down at their linked fingers. “You know what I came from, Rusty. You’ve seen it with your own eyes.” He stared straight ahead, a troubled expression on his handsome face, but he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. He was focused inward. “My first real memory was from when I was about four, I think. I woke up in the night to my mother’s cries, to the sound of smashing glass. I remember getting out of bed and running into the living room. My mother must have locked the old man out, and he was smashing the front windows to get in. When he did, his hands were all cut up, and there was blood everywhere. It didn’t slow him down, he was so drunk I doubt he even felt it.”

His hand flexed around hers, eyes haunted “Reid, you don’t have to…”

“I need you to understand, Rusty. Just hear me out, please?”

She stayed quiet, could see how important this was to him, and waited for him to continue.

“That was the first night I watched my father beat my mother. I learned to hide pretty quickly after that, because if he saw me, if I tried to help, he’d turn those fists on me as well. I’d hide, listen to my mother’s screams, her cries for help, the sounds of him tearing the house apart. As I got older, I tried to fight back, and eventually the old man knew better than to come after me, but if I wasn’t around to protect her, he’d still take his anger out on my mom.” He squeezed her fingers in his. “Then one day, I snapped. I’d had enough. And that’s when I threw him out.”

Oh, God.
She blinked and a tear slid down her face. What he must have been through, how he must have suffered. He’d been a little boy and no one had protected him. He’d been the one to protect his mother when she’d been unable to do it for herself.

He turned to her and made a low, soothing sound before swiping the tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Shit, Rusty.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m all right now.”

She nodded, but it wasn’t all right,
he
wasn’t all right. He’d proven that when he’d pushed her away. Reid didn’t deserve what he’d been through, no child deserved that, and there was nothing she could do to fix it, nothing she could do to take that pain away from him.

He held her gaze. “I sent him away, but he never left us alone. He’s always been there, trying to force his way back, even after all these years. And that dark, violent part of him that made him the monster he is, that still lives inside him, even after losing his wife and kid…” He blew out a shuddery breath. “I’ve always been terrified…that it’s inside me as well, that that darkness is in there, waiting to come out. And I didn’t want to risk it, risk hurting you. After what I did, the way I went at that asshole who hurt you, I freaked out. I thought I was turning into my father.” He ran his thumb across her jaw. “I would rather die than hurt you, do you understand? Do you see now why I tried to send you away?”

Lifting her hands, she rested them over his. “You are not your father. You could never be like him. You saved your mom. You kicked him out. You’re a good man, Reid.” His mouth was close and she closed the gap, pressing her lips against his, kissing him tenderly. When she lifted her head, he was breathing heavily. “I trust you. I know you’d never hurt me,” she said against his lips.

His arms came around her like iron bands, so tight she could barely breathe. But she didn’t care and held him in return, just as fiercely. “Shit, baby,” he rasped.

She leaned back, locking eyes with his. “Take me home, Reid.”

Chapter Twenty-One

T
he key wouldn’t get in the damn lock. Reid was past need, past hunger for the woman at his side. He was desperation, pure and simple. To the point his hands shook so badly he could barely control them. He took a calming breath that did absolutely nothing to slow his racing pulse, but, finally, the key slid home. He shoved the door open and pulled Rusty in after him, leading her into the house.

“Too damn long,” he said, knowing he made no sense at all but struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted, the lower one glossy after licking it. She was as desperate for a taste of him as he was of her. “Reid?”

Moving forward, stalking her, he kept coming as she backed up. “Seven nights I climbed into that bed, the smell of you on my sheets, believing I’d lost you, with only the memory of how it felt with you bedside me. How it felt to push into that tight, sweet body. The sound of your cries when you got close. The way you curled into my side after, as if you couldn’t get close enough.” He shook his head. “I didn’t like it, Foxy. Not one fuckin’ bit.”

They’d reached the stairs leading up to his bedroom, and she stood there, looking stunned and highly turned on. “You missed me?” she whispered.

“Baby,
missed
does not describe the way I felt without you here.” He stepped closer, forcing her up against the wall.

She tipped her head back, licked her lips. “Prove it. Show me how much you missed me.”

Oh, yeah, he’d show her all right. “I could fuck you right here, right now, against the wall, but I need you in my bed.” Bending at the waist, he grabbed her ass and flung her over his shoulder. She squeaked as he carried her up the stairs to his room, laughing in that soft raspy way that made him hard.

He strode in and set her down on her feet at the end of the bed. She didn’t say a word, all humor wiped from her face, and she waited, waited for him to tell her what he wanted. Rusty loved it when he took charge, loved him to take control when they were in bed, and dammit, he loved that, too. Needed it. She knew it, saw that in him, and she gave it to him.

She gave him everything he needed. All he’d ever need.

Running his hand down her bare arm, he whispered, “On your knees.”

She went down without a word, eyes on him, lips slightly parted, like she was anticipating his cock in her mouth. Reaching down, he ran a finger along her jaw. “You said you like sucking my cock, when I pull your hair, when I fuck your sweet mouth. You want that?”

“Yes. Yes, I want that.”

Her eyes damn near shone in the dim light, and he had to swallow past the lump in his throat so he could speak. “Undo my pants. Free my cock.”

She lifted her hands to the front of his trousers, and they trembled as she worked on his belt.

He was no saint. This had already been established. He could admit he was a jealous asshole, and Rusty’s words that day he’d forced her away, when she’d shoved down the pain he’d caused and struck back, hadn’t left him. They’d been on loop in his head the entire week.

Cupping her jaw, he made her look up at him. “Did you mean what you said? Did you fuck anyone else, the guy at the party?” He shook his head when she narrowed her eyes, before she got pissed. “I know I have no right to ask, after what I said to you, but I need to know. It’s making me crazy, baby, thinking of you with someone else. That I could have pushed you to do that because of the way I hurt you.”

She stopped what she was doing and blinked up at him. He ran his thumb over her soft lips, couldn’t stop himself from touching her. “Would it make a difference if I had? Would it change the way you feel about me?”

“No. Never.” He realized nothing could ever do that.

She held his gaze. “You’re right. You don’t have a right to ask, not about that. Because you did hurt me, you cut me deep.” Then she shrugged. “I spent the week missing you, wishing I was with you. I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me. They were just words. I didn’t want anyone else then, and I don’t want anyone else now.” She shook her head. “I didn’t sleep with anyone else. As for the guy at the party, I don’t even know the man. He’d been talking to me for two minutes before you walked in.”

Relief swamped him, along with a possessive hunger so strong his knees threatened to give out. “I don’t think I could have handled it, if I’d driven you to that.”

Rusty’s little sister had known exactly what buttons to push with a guy like him, and it had worked. If it wasn’t for her interfering, he might not be here now, with the woman he loved.

The woman he loved.

The words swam around his head, settling in, taking root. He should be freaked out, but he wasn’t. He was surprised he hadn’t seen it sooner. He’d never met anyone like Rusty. Didn’t want anyone else, and he hadn’t been lying—this last week without her, believing he might never get this chance again, had torn him up.

Rusty dropped her hands. “Did you really think I’d just run off and start fucking anything with an available hard dick?”

No, he didn’t. He knew better than that, knew her better than that. “I’m sorry, Foxy. I know that’s not you, but being away from you…it fucked with my head. I’m acting like a jealous asshole.”

“Yeah, but you’re
my
jealous asshole” She smiled, reached up, and slid down the zipper on his trousers. “Hmm, maybe I should punish you.”

Easy as that, she forgave him. He didn’t deserve her, for a fuck of a lot of reasons. But right then he didn’t care. He had a second chance, and he wasn’t going to blow it. She tugged down his pants and slid her hand into the front of his boxers, pulling the elastic out and over his erection, then shoved them to his feet, freeing his achingly hard cock.

He watched her, eyes locked on his dick, licking her lips, and shuddered, close to losing it. “You gonna punish me with that sexy mouth?”

“Yes. I’ve been dreaming about this beautiful cock, of sucking and licking it until you can’t bear it another minute.”

“Yeah, then what? What happens after that?” He was panting, and when she wrapped her fingers around his length and squeezed, he hissed. She slid her hands up and down, then leaned in and kissed the tip, her pink tongue darting out to taste the glistening pre-come.

“You fist my hair and push deep into my mouth, use me to get yourself off, taking what you want from me.” Wrapping her lips around the head, she sucked harder, making him groan and his hips buck. “You lose control.”

“You like that? You like it when I lose control?” he growled.

“I love it.”

She was making him crazy, and he was damn close to doing just that. So close to snapping and doing all the things she’d just described that it wasn’t funny.

Fisting her hair, he thrust his hips forward, just a little, pushing the head of his cock past her lips. “You want this? You want me to fuck your mouth?”

She gave a little nod, all she could do with him pushing deeper. She moaned, and the vibrations nearly sent him over the edge. He couldn’t do this much longer, the wet heat of her mouth, that wicked tongue moving against the underside of his dick, the light teasing suction. He couldn’t hold back. Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he held her immobile and started to do as she asked. The urge to ram into her, pound into her mouth was hard to ignore, and when she reached up and took his balls in her hand, massaging gently, his hips flexed involuntarily, shoving deeper. And fuck, she took it, didn’t pull away, gave herself totally to him.

His balls drew up tight, sparks of pleasure firing to life in his lower belly, down his shaft. He was close to coming, so damn close. But now, tonight, after everything they’d been through, after the realization that he loved her, that he planned to spend the rest of his life with her—yeah, he needed to be inside her when he came.

Pulling out carefully, he brought her to her feet. She made a sound of protest until he took her mouth, plundering it, reveling in their combined taste on her tongue. “Take off your clothes, baby. Get on the bed.”

She didn’t mess around, and he watched her strip, while he did the same, eating up the sight of her. God, she was beautiful. Perfect. When she was bare, she crawled onto the bed and lay back for him. He came down beside her, brushing her wild red hair away from her face, trailing his hand down her flat stomach. She spread for him, offering up that sweet body without hesitation, and he slid a finger along her slit, groaning at the feel of her slick flesh, at how ready for him she was.

“Shit, baby.” Spreading her lips, he used her arousal to coat his fingers, then watched her face as he circled her tight little clit. He loved the way she gasped and arched her back, seeking more. “Feels good?”

“God, yes.”

Tracing her inner folds, he leaned in and sucked on her tit, drawing a hard nipple into his mouth as he pushed a finger deep.
So hot. So damn wet.

Her inner muscles spasmed around him. She was close already, and he’d barely touched her. Sliding the digit out, he glided up to her clit, circling it again until she was writhing and gasping, then down to her tight opening, this time pushing two fingers inside. Her back arched, and her stomach muscles quivered. He felt the beginnings of her orgasm, the muscles gripping him tighter, rippling over his fingers. She rode his hand, mouth open, sexy moans filling the room the closer she got.

Then right before she went over, he pulled out. He wanted to make this amazing for her, but he also needed her close, because he didn’t know how long he’d last now that he had her under him.

She groaned. “No, please don’t stop.”

Crawling between her thighs, he reached over and grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer and, quickly opening it, rolled it down his throbbing cock. “When you come apart, I want to feel it. I need to be inside you this time.”

Hooking his hands around the backs of her knees, he forced them up, spreading her wider. She was completely open, exposed. “Guide me in.”

She reached down with a trembling hand and brought the blunt tip of his cock to her slick opening. “That’s it.” He pressed forward, pushed inside her slow and easy, inch by painstaking inch, watching the way she stretched to take him, watching his cock sink into her. “So hot, sweetheart. So fucking good. Can you feel how I stretch you, how your body struggles to take all of me?” She moaned, glazed, hungry eyes locked on his. “But you can, you can take it all, can’t you, Foxy? You can take every inch. You love it. Love how full I make you.”

“Yes. God, I love it.” She bit her lip hard as he withdrew, and cried out when he slammed forward, filling her completely.

He shook with the effort to go slow, but he took his time. He wanted her climax to be intense, and building it slowly would do just that. He leaned forward. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

She did, and he reached down to circle her clit with firm even strokes. Her hands went to his hair, fisting it, pulling him in for a wet, openmouthed kiss, all tongues and teeth. He slid forward, going deep, and ground against her. She gasped into his mouth, her body tensing, then she threw her head back and came, screaming out his name. She clamped down on his cock repeatedly, but he gritted past the need to join her, to come just as hard. He wasn’t finished yet, not by a long shot.

He continued to slide in and out of her, watching her the whole time. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight than this woman coming apart around him…his woman.

When her eyes finally opened, and she gazed up at him, he removed her legs from his shoulders, wrapped his arms around her, and rolled to his back, so she was on top. She looked down, hair a silky curtain around her face.

God, she was warm, all soft and sated.

His still hard cock twitched inside her, and she moaned softly. “You want more?”

Gripping her hips, he held her in place and lifted his own, pushing deep. A needy whimper escaped her kiss-swollen lips. “Yes.”

She’d be sensitive from her orgasm, and he knew he could make her come again before he was done. “I love how greedy you are, how hungry you are for my cock.”

He could see how his words affected her, could feel it. Hands on his chest, she lifted her body, sliding up his iron-hard length, then down to grind against him. As he filled her, that sexy mouth softened, lips parting on a gasp.

He dragged his thumb over her swollen clit, and she convulsed on top of him. “Ah, shit.” She ground down against him a second time. “What are you doing to me?” she panted.

He felt the wet heat of her arousal slide down over his balls. Fuck, she was drenched, scalding hot. He did some moaning of his own. “I want to see you come again, Foxy. Ride me. Get yourself off. Show me how good it feels to have me buried deep inside you.”

“Oh, God.” She upped the pace, dropping her head back, lost in the pleasure she was taking, already starting to clench around him.

“That’s it, fuck me, Rusty. Fuck me hard.” He was ranting, couldn’t shut the hell up, close to blowing, close to losing his shit completely. Rusty rode him, tits bouncing, hot and slick and tight. He pressed harder on her clit, pinched it between his fingers, and she shattered, bucking against him wildly. “Ah, shit. That’s it, baby.”

Control snapping, he gripped her hips and slammed up inside her once, twice, three times, then he was coming, hard enough to darken his vision, to muffle Rusty’s cries. He roared through it, his cock pulsing hard inside her until all he could do was jerk and pant as she wrung every last bit of pleasure from his body.

When she collapsed on top of him, he tightened his arms around her, skin slicked with sweat, completely sated. Wrapping her hair around his fist, he kissed the side of her neck, worked his way to her ear, and whispered, “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Better not,” she mumbled against his throat.

Then a few minutes later she fell asleep, body draped over his, cock still buried inside her.

Where she belonged.