Shooter (Burnout) (30 page)

“Because all your shirts are green. And it matches your eyes.” Easy didn’t say anything so she continued. “God, Jimmy! It’s not Sea Foam or Mystic Meadow! It’s a very
masculine
green. It’s pine!” she assured him. “I bought you some blue pillows to go on the couch, too. For an accent color. And it will all look really good with the beige carpet and the white trim. We can finish the living room and the kitchen and maybe even the hallway by the time you’re done working tonight. But probably not the bathroom or the bedroom. And anyway I was gonna ask you about that. You wouldn’t let me paint the bedroom purple would you?”

Easy’s mouth dropped open. “What?! Hell fucking no!”

Hayley looked miffed. “Well, people with purple bedrooms have more sex!”

Jimmy opened his mouth to respond. Then closed it. Then blinked at her. “Who told you that?”

“The New York Times!”

“Well….I don’t care. No. No purple bedroom!”

“But it would look really good with the green!” she insisted.

Jimmy threw up his hands. “Shooter! Talk to your woman, please!”

The corner of Chris’s mouth turned up, but he kept his tone steady and even. “Slick. Men can’t have purple bedrooms. Doesn’t matter how much more sex they’d have.”

She scowled and then looked at Easy. “Well….do you hate the green?” she finally asked. “I can change it back,” she told him, disappointed. “I wanted you to have a home. Not just a house.”

Easy made a face. “You should have
asked
.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. And you’re busy at the garage anyway. Also, it turns out I love painting. I love everything about it. Picking it out and putting it on. And peeling the tape off and seeing it all done. I’ve never gotten to paint anything before, make anything
nice
.” She paused. “I painted the inside of your cabinets, too.”

He looked into the kitchen, through the glass doors of the cabinets. “Yeah.”

“Accent color.” She smiled. “It’s Bayou Blue. You know, ‘cause you’re from-”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“So what’s the verdict?” Milo called out from the kitchen.

“Well, it’s already mostly done now! Finish it up,” Easy replied. “By the time I get home,” he added.

“Still need a beer,” Milo declared.

“I put some in the fridge before you got here,” Hayley told him.

“Why didn’t you say so?” Milo asked, turning toward the fridge.

“Because it’s only just now
noon
,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but when you’re working, there are different rules,” said Milo, popping the top off a bottle.

She sighed. “Men have too many rules. Drink before noon, don’t drink before noon, no purple bedrooms. It’s exhausting.”

“Speaking of rules,” Chris said. “Slick, I can’t let you pay for-”

“It didn’t cost much!” she interrupted.

Chris frowned. “You’re still not paying for it. We’ll discuss it tonight.”

“Alright, Easy,” said Tex. “Let’s get back to work so Slick and Milo can finish theirs.”

Hawk, Tex, and Easy made their way around the draped furniture and headed out the door. Chris stayed, watching Hayley silently.

“Are you mad, too?” she asked, looking up at him.

Instead of answering, he slid his arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her deeply. After a minute of exploring her mouth with his tongue, he let her go and she nearly stumbled back. She pressed her lips together to suppress a grin. “Don’t get sassy on me,” he warned. “If I come home to a purple bedroom, I will
not
be pleased.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I promise I won’t paint your bedroom purple.”

He slid a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze. “It’s
our
bedroom, Slick. But that doesn’t give you permission to paint it purple. Or sea foam. Or anything that might be called ‘Mystic Meadow.’ ” He pulled her close and leaned down, brushing his lips against her ear. “And
this
….is the nicest thing I’ve ever seen someone do for another person.”

Chapter 23

That night Hayley stretched out on the couch in living room. “You really won’t reconsider purple?” she asked him, actually batting her eyelashes at him.

Chris smirked at her. “How many of those have you had?” he asked, nodding to the beer bottle in her hand.

“Just this one.”

He smiled. Beer always succeeded in loosening Slick up a little. It was good to see her relax. “Sorry, baby. No can do on the purple.”

She set the beer down on the coffee table. “What about an accent color?” she asked, putting her hand on his knee.

Chris watched his leg intently. “What’s an accent color?” he asked, not really caring.

Hayley said something in response but he didn’t catch it. Her hand was sliding up his inner thigh. “Uh huh,” he said in reply. “Yeah, okay.”
Oh, please God,
was what he was thinking.

Hayley’s hand skipped over his crotch, though, and settled onto his stomach. He stifled a disappointing groan.

“Really?” she asked.

“Uhhhh,” was about all he could say.

Suddenly, she planted her knee on one side of him and swung her other leg over his lap. Both of her hands were now on his flat abs. “I promise you won’t regret it,” she whispered.

Regret what?
he wondered. “What?” he asked, willing her hands to move. Oh and they did.

She took hold of the waistband of his athletic shorts and pulled it out. Chris closed his eyes. Her other hand reached in grazed the tip of his hardening cock. This time he actually did groan.

Both her hands slipped inside his boxer briefs and curled around his shaft. She began working him slowly, from the base to the tip and back down again.

*************************

Hayley straddled Chris and watched him. His eyes were closed and his head was resting against the back of the couch. It felt strange and exciting to have this kind of power over such a big man. She was pretty sure at this moment, Chris would let her do whatever she wanted.

His cock was hard and warm and filled her hands completely. Now that it was fully erect, the purplish head was extended well past the elastic of his underwear. It was beautiful, she thought, as she stroked it. Smooth and rigid yet slightly yielding when she squeezed it. He let out a moan every time she did just that. She reveled in the fact that this huge man, with his lethal hands and training to kill could be rendered basically helpless by such a small, unimposing woman.

It felt good to please him. This was true, but she was struck by how much it pleased
her
, as well. She squeezed the thick shaft and wondered what it would be like to have it inside her. And he would do it. Any time she asked. Or not do it if she said no. There was power in that, to be sure, but also a sense of absolute safety. She ran her thumb along the slicked head with one hand and rubbed the length of it with the other until he tensed, the signal he was close to finishing.

********************

Chris kept his eyes closed and focused on his woman’s clever little hands. She was using both of them with a fair amount of skill. He made a mental note in the back of his mind to take her to a bookstore and let her load up with romance novels. It didn’t take long for
his
load to come up.

Hayley bade him to sit still and headed toward the bathroom. She returned with a washcloth and Chris leaned back against the couch and watched her wipe his stomach carefully. When she was done he caught her wrist, took the cloth from her and tossed it onto the coffee table. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her, resting his right hand on her knee. “Hayley,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Hmm?” she asked, in between kissing.

“Can I touch you?” She paused, pulling back from him a little, but he didn’t let her go. “I’ll be gentle, Hayley. I promise. I can do gentle.”

She looked at him for a long moment and he thought she might say no but instead she nodded. He brought his mouth down on hers again and began rubbing the inside of her knee. When her lips parted for him, he began his careful invasion. First his tongue, running along her lower lip, and then slipping into her mouth. She sighed contentedly. Encouraged, his hand slowly moved up her thigh. He waited patiently, devouring her mouth, until she finally spread for him.

He felt her heat through her shorts and rubbed first one finger, then two, along her core until he’d pushed the fabric in enough to locate her slit. She moaned and shifted her hips, enjoying his ministrations. He tucked his index finger into the waistband of her shorts, pulled, and slid his hand inside, over her panties. When his fingertips again sought her out, she was damp, even through the fabric.

“Are you wet, Hayley?” he asked quietly. She whimpered in response. “Wet from stroking me?” He pressed a fingertip against her and she gasped, lifting her hips against his hand. God. She was. She’d been just as turned on while giving him a handjob as he’d been to receive it. It was as he suspected. All the parts worked. Big time. Frustrated, Hayley grabbed his hand and held it against her. “Easy, baby,” he crooned. “We’ll get there,” he assured her. “Together. Show me, Hayley. Show me what you need. Use my hand.”

Hayley tucked both their hands directly into her panties. When their entwined fingers parted her swollen lips, Chris felt wetness. No. No just wet. Soaked. Hayley was soaking wet and the heat of her was intense. He couldn’t remember encountering a woman
this
ready, this starved for touch. She nudged him forward and he slipped his middle finger into her. She cried out. If he’d had any doubts that she’d been untouched for five years, which he didn’t, or if he’d somehow forgotten, which he hadn’t, it was absolutely obvious in that moment. She was tight. Tighter than he’d ever experienced before. If she ever touched herself this way, it certainly couldn’t have been often and he doubted she had anything like a toy.

She was desperate for him, holding his wrist and trying to move against his hand. “Shhh,” he told her to settle her down. “Easy now. You’re so tight, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” He twisted his hand a little and pressed his thumb against her mound which caused an immediate reaction but then relaxed her a little as she now felt confident she was going to get what she needed.

*******************************

Hayley’s eyes were closed and she couldn’t believe what she felt. It was incredible. Chris, a man who, because of his size and demeanor she normally wouldn’t even speak to unless it was absolutely necessary was touching her, stroking her most sensitive flesh and true to his word, he was so gentle she wanted to cry. This man’s hands, strong and lethal, were also tender and generous, hands that would only ever touch her to squeeze, stroke, and caress. She was his, she felt it now, opening her tenderest part to him, begging for his touch. But he was also hers. He’d said that, hadn’t he? You’re mine and I’m yours. What would it be like to have a man like this to touch her whenever she needed it? A man who could so easily hurt or even kill her but would only treat her with kindness and respect?

“Chris!” she cried out, pleading.

“Shhh,” he told her. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Don’t tighten up. Just relax and let it happen, baby. Don’t force it or you’ll bruise. Open up for me sweetheart,” he commanded softly.

Hayley relaxed and let her thighs fall open once more. “There’s my girl,” he told her and her belly tightened at his words. His girl. She wanted more than anything to be Chris Sullivan’s girl. His finger stroked in and out of her at a steady pace while his thumb traced lazy circles around her clit. “My sweet girl. So tight. So wet. You feel like Heaven, baby. So beautiful. Come for me, pretty girl. I want to watch.”