Straddling the Fence (14 page)

Eli’s comment made Bellamy laugh as she finished opening his
shirt, then went to work on his belt buckle, the pink tip of her tongue caught
between her front teeth like the contraption required a lot of concentration
and dexterity.

Tugging his shirt loose, she peeked around him to check on
the fire, giving him a brief glimpse of the practical Bellamy before the sex
kitten returned to ease her fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs and
grasp his cock.

He let out a very undignified—definitely
unmanly—high-pitched noise. “Fuck, cold!”

She jerked her hand away, grimacing. “I’m sorry. Did I kill
your hard-on?”

Eli chuckled. “Caused it to shrink a little.” Her cheeks
turned red before she buried her face in his lap, which made his dick perk
right back up. “Don’t be embarrassed, Bell. Just a sudden shock, that’s all.”
He squeezed her with his legs. “I bet something warm and wet would make him
rock hard again in no time.”

That earned him a bite on the inside of his thigh. “Subtle.”

“I’m about as subtle as a two-by-four to the back of the
head.”

Rubbing her hands over his legs to warm them up first, she
reached for his jeans again. This time she tugged them lower on his hips and
out of her way, tucking his briefs beneath his balls. Instead of grasping his
cock, she licked him from root to tip, blowing warm breath over the damp trail
she left behind. Her fingers joined the mix, tentative at first, giving him
what he wanted in gradual doses. They slid around the base to finally form a
fist of heat. No chill at all, just pressure on the surface while the raw lust
in her eyes and the promise of her mouth made it build between his hips.

“I love your cock,” she said, bold despite the color that
climbed her throat. Something told him Bellamy Haile had never been so brave
and shameless with the dirty talk.

“What do you love about it?” he asked, pushing against her
self-imposed boundaries. He groaned when she squeezed him, hand sliding down to
circle the root.

“How soft the skin is. How hard you get for me. The size.
You’re big.”

“Your biggest?” his ego demanded.

“Yes,” she said, gaze flicking up to meet his briefly.

He wanted to be the best sex she’d ever had, ruin her for
any other man.

It felt as if she was moving in slow motion and the air
around them became shifting steam on his skin. Just the whisper of her breath
was almost too much to take, the reverent way she looked at him. He watched her
lips part, her jaw soften as she eased her mouth over him, but he realized
uncertainty might be the cause of her measured actions. Could be that she was
nervous too, if the rapid pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat was any
indication.

What she didn’t know was she could do no wrong here. That
she made him forget every woman who came before her. God knew there’d been a
lot of ’em. He’d received his first blowjob at fifteen from a girl three years
older. He’d heard it said that your first is always the best, or at the very
least, a gauge by which you would measure all others. It was a lie. Every
single sex memory he had that didn’t involve Bellamy Haile went up in smoke the
moment she closed her lips around him and took him to the back of her throat in
a slow, wet glide.

Eli gritted his teeth and wrapped his hands around the cold
chains, needed something solid to ground him. Fighting against the urge to
whimper or beg, her mouth felt so amazing. And because he couldn’t reach for
her instead. Again, probably a good thing because he would likely take over,
get bossy and ruin her fantasy.

Her tongue traced his cock as if it were a map—the veins
down the underside of his shaft, the flared ridge, the sensitive slit in the
tip. That last place made his balls tighten and his hips lift into the
unhurried pulls of her warm mouth. When she changed course and sucked him hard,
a low groan worked its way up from the soles of his feet.

“So good.” Silky black hair fell across part of her face,
blocking his view of her eyes. Something he needed to see. “Move your hair for
me, darlin’.”

She released him with a wet pop that spiked his arousal in
an awfully filthy way, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “It won’t stay,”
she murmured, her gaze still trained on her hand as she continued to stroke his
cock, up and down, her fist tight, just as he liked it. When a drop of fluid
welled at the tip, she caught it with her thumb, basting him.

Eli was so close to coming already he had to bite the inside
of his cheek to temper the need. The pace she’d set was perfect though, keeping
him right on the edge without shoving him over too fast. Tied up or not,
Bellamy on her knees for him, enacting a fantasy, had to be one of the hottest
things he’d experienced with her to date. Maybe
the
hottest. Certainly
something to be savored, not rushed.

But then her mouth was on him again, sliding down, making
his shaft slick for her hand to follow as she worked her way back up. A few
more deep passes and she pressed her tongue into the hypersensitive spot where
cap met shaft, lifting her beautiful green eyes to his. Heat raced down his
spine, pooled in his groin, spreading between his hipbones in warning.

“I’m close,” he said, giving her a chance to decide whether
to move or stay. Eli knew what he wanted, but he was a greedy bastard and
didn’t expect her to necessarily agree with that choice.

Her grip on his cock tightened while she worked her other
hand beneath his balls, cupping their weight in the warmth of her palm,
applying just enough pressure for him to feel it at the base of his skull.
Using two fingers, she rubbed the patch of nerves behind his sac, then took him
deep and swallowed around him.

“Oh,
fuck
.”

He was done. His control shattered. Orgasm tore through him,
making his muscles rigid and his vision darken as he spilled across her tongue.
Watching her cheeks hollow and her eyelids flutter down was like tossing
gasoline on the lit fire behind him. Pleasure doubled in on itself, tripled
into a shockwave, before sweeping one last time through his body, draining him
dry.

Eli let his head drop back, closed his eyes for a moment
while his heartbeat slowed, and inhaled deeply, catching the smell of the fire,
and beneath that, the sweet, mouthwatering scent of Bellamy’s arousal. Her chin
was resting on his knee when he opened his eyes.

Goddamn, I’m a goner.

She smiled softly, licked at her lush bottom lip. “If you
make a protein joke right now, I will thump you in the balls.”

Laughter burst from his chest, loud enough to bounce off the
walls of the kitchen. “You kinda did it for me, sugar.”

She laughed too, rubbing her forehead against his thigh.
Some of her hair brushed his drying cock and tickled the skin of his lower
belly, reminding him that he was still at her mercy. Also, she had to be
unbearably turned-on and in need of relief herself.

“Bellamy.”

Her head rolled on his leg as she looked up at him through
the dark fall of her hair, the flush on her cheeks a telltale sign that he was
correct in his assumption. “Hmm?”

“How wet are you right now?”

“Very,” she said on a sigh.

“Prove it.”

She stood, brushed off her bruised knees and straddled his
lap again. First, she kissed him, pressing her breasts to his chest and
threading her fingers through his hair. Well, really it was more like she
devoured his mouth. Thrusting her tongue past his lips, she swept it over his.
Her tiny whimper of longing made him ache to touch her, fill her body with his
and spend the night there. Days even. Weeks, months, years. Buried inside her.

From his mouth, she moved to his jaw, his ear, shoving his
shirt out of her way to bite at the sensitive spot where his neck met his
shoulder. He had to be scorching her lips because she was burning him alive.

“Show me, Bell,” he said, reminding her of what he wanted to
see, smell, taste.

The look on her face was slightly dazed when she drew back.
“I’m afraid if I touch myself, I’ll come.”

Eli nodded eagerly. “Yes, do that. But not before you let me
have a taste first.”

She bit his bottom lip. “God, you’re so bad.”

“Be bad with me, darlin’. Touch yourself. Or unchain me and
I’ll do it.”

“Not yet.”

“Has the
really
dirty fantasy been fulfilled?”

“Not entirely.”

“Okay then. Until we get there, give me one of mine.”

With a shaky sigh, she slid her hand inside her panties. He
knew the second she touched her clit by the way her eyelids went heavy and her
mouth fell open. Eli couldn’t decide where to train his gaze, her face or where
her fingers moved behind that veil of pink satin. So he tried to do both.

The wet sounds she invoked made his head spin with lust.
Blood poured into his cock in hot pulses. Then she withdrew her hand and he
opened his mouth for her to slide two damp fingers between his lips. Her taste
exploded across his tongue—sweet, salty and all Bellamy. It coursed through him
like an illicit drug, making his heart race. He sucked the digits clean, but
pinned them in place with a careful bite so she couldn’t withdraw from his
mouth.

She plunged her free hand back inside her underwear, and this
time she wasn’t timid or lazy. Any remaining shyness evaporated as she gave in
to the urge and began to stroke her pussy with purpose. Straight white teeth
dug tiny divots in her bottom lip. Her head tipped back while she rode the
sensations toward their natural end.

To help get her there, Eli kept up the assault on her
fingertips, wishing instead that it was her nipples or clit. Between their
bodies, his cock throbbed, ready again, aching to be buried to the hilt inside
her. To feel her warm sheath clench around his length as she came. It would
happen soon enough.

Her jaw tensed on a moan, then her eyes met his, liquid and
full of fire. He let her fingers slip from his mouth. She pitched forward,
kissing him hard, and he swallowed her soft whimpers. A hand tangled in his
hair, fisting it enough to sting, her stuttering breaths gusting over his lips
and chin.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he said, as breathless as her.

“I’ve never done it before.”

He moved his head so she had to look at him. “What, got
yourself off in front of someone?”

She nodded.

“Damn honored to be your first, honey.”

“You have a way of breaking down my walls.”

“That good or bad?”

“It’s very good.” A softer kiss and she slid off his lap.
“I’m going to throw another log on the fire. It’s dying down some.”

“Then you’ll free me?” he asked as she pulled the robe back
over her shoulders and walked past him.

“You don’t need me to get free.”

Bellamy tossed another log onto the fire and held her hands
out to warm them. Really, she was using the moment to try to regain a little
composure. Calm her emotions. No one had ever scrambled her brain the way Eli
could.

Except it wasn’t just her mind he affected, it was her heart
too. She was losing it to him and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about
that, shy of running as far and as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
Instead, she found herself turning around.

He’d freed himself and was now propped against the edge of
the table, his hands braced beside his hips. The chains lay on the floor next
to the chair. All it took was a bit of leverage and room to let them slide off
the legs.

He’d lost the shirt. His jeans hung open, but he’d tucked
his cock back inside his briefs. He was still hard, though. Thick and perfectly
outlined behind soft blue cotton. His taste still lingered on her tongue.

As she approached him, the dark, feral look in his eyes sent
a shiver racing down her spine. When she got within arm’s reach, he took
advantage, grasping her hand and tugging her close.

Bellamy glanced down at where the chains had been wrapped
around his wrists. There were reddened grooves in his skin, patterned like the
links of the chain. She frowned, trailing a fingertip across the marks, and
wondered if she’d caused him any pain.

“I enjoyed every second of it,” he told her, as if he’d read
the regret in her mind. “Stop worrying and tell me the rest of this fantasy.”

Shrugging out of the robe, she withdrew the foil packet
tucked inside a pocket then let the fabric drop onto the chair he’d escaped
from and planted her ass on top of the table. At Eli’s puzzled expression, she
grabbed his belt loops and jerked him between her legs. She held up the condom.
“Put it on.”

“You sure about this, Bell?” he asked as he rolled the
rubber down his shaft, giving himself a rough stroke over the latex.

“I am. It’s time a new memory was made in here.” She
frowned, glancing back at the big pine beast. “Unless you think the table won’t
support us.”

He rapped his knuckles against the top. “This thing could hold
ten of us.”

“Good,” she said. “Then fuck me.”

Eli practically growled at her blunt, dirty order and
reached for her panties. Bellamy lifted her bottom to let him remove the scrap
of fabric. Grasping her hips, he moved her to the edge of the table, angled his
cock to her entrance, nudged her once as a teaser then pushed inside.

The first thrust stole her breath and forced her eyes
closed. A pinch of pain soon gave way to a delicious pulse as he stayed lodged
deep inside her for a few heavy heartbeats, letting her body adjust. Then she
was being tipped backward onto the cool wood. Pinned between two solid
surfaces.

This was not the venue for gentle lovemaking, and Eli knew
that wasn’t what she was in the mood for either. Adjustment period over, he
braced his hands beside her shoulders and flexed his hips, powering in and out
of her hard enough to shake the table. She kept her hands low on his flanks
just to feel the muscles move beneath his skin while she watched him watching
her.

He slowed his thrusts and lowered his mouth to her breasts,
scraping his teeth across the satin-covered tips. Bellamy shoved the bra’s cups
out of his way and humid breath touched her a moment before his tongue made a
wet circle around an achy nipple. She arched closer, ignoring the uncomfortable
press of wood against her shoulder blades.

Eli urged her legs around his waist, where she locked her
ankles at the small of his back. The angle drove him deeper, pressed her harder
into the table, but she didn’t care if it made bruises down her spine. She
deserved them for the marks she’d left on Eli’s skin, no matter what he said
about enjoying her turn at playing the dominant one. Maybe she hoped that
gorging on him tonight might quell the hunger she couldn’t seem to slake.

Or maybe she was kidding herself.

“Bellamy, look at me.”

Sweat gleamed at the base of his throat when she focused on
him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were rigid and delineated as they
supported his weight above her. A deep flush of color stained his neck and flagged
high on his cheekbones, partially obscured by dark chunks of his hair.

Oh, how she loved looking at him. He was so gorgeously made,
near perfect as best she could tell. All that passion and purpose focused on
her
.
Those lovely gray eyes held her captive. When he pulled almost all the way out
of her, then gradually slid back in, she nearly melted across the table.

Now she understood why he’d demanded her full attention. He
wanted to watch her come undone, see every emotion flicker across her face.

Each pass of his cock across her inner walls sent waves of
heat rippling through her core. It gathered like storm clouds, building in
strength and intensity, promising to sweep her under its depths. When Eli
leaned close, grasping the opposite edge of the table in his hands for
leverage, saying, “Come for me again,” the frenzy reached its breaking point,
spilling through her in luscious waves.

Eli soon followed her over, gasping against her throat,
rhythm faltering as he rocked into her body. She smoothed her hands down his
sides, across his lower back, feeling him tighten beneath her palms before the
tension in his muscles subsided away to nothing.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, Bellamy unlocked her ankles,
freeing Eli to ease from inside her. He helped her sit up, dropped a tender
kiss on her mouth then left the kitchen to deal with the condom.

She glanced down at the table, running her hand across the
dark wood, and wondered what her grandmother would think of her sexually
desecrating the sacred antique.

Knowing her nana, she’d probably smile knowingly and tell
her that a sturdy flat surface was good for more than just rolling out
piecrust.

* * * * *

The ringing of Eli’s phone woke her the next morning. From
the warm nest she’d burrowed into beneath the blanket and next to his body, she
heard him answer and agree to meet someone for breakfast in thirty minutes at
the Cottonwood.

Bellamy groaned, not wanting to leave her toasty spot.

“You have to get up sometime,” Eli said, moving the covers
back to nuzzle the nape of her neck. The beard stubble on his jaw tickled her
skin, making her laugh and try to get away, but there was only so far she was
willing to go, now that the fire had died and the house was chilly again.

“Don’t remind me.”

“I’ll start the shower and get the water hot.” He gave her
ass a smack before climbing out of bed.

Forty minutes later, they slid into a round corner booth at
the Cottonwood with Kai and Fritz. The waitress had just dropped off their
drinks—coffee for Eli and hot tea for Bellamy—when Grace and Tucker straggled
in. Grace was still in the skirt and pumps from the night before, but wore a
man’s shirt, knotted at her waist. Her hair was twisted up in a clip and
mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. Judging by the persistent grin on Tucker’s
face, they’d spent the night doing basically the same thing as Bellamy and Eli.
Maybe minus a few chains and bruises.

“Coffee, please,” Grace told the server when she reappeared.
“Black, and in the largest vessel you have. Better yet, just bring me the pot
and a straw.”

“Something tells me you didn’t stop with that last pitcher
of margaritas we drank,” Kai said, grinning against the rim of her mug.

“Nope,” Tucker said, and left it at that because Grace shot
him a look that said she’d cut off a very important body part if he elaborated.

When Sage walked through the front door, Grace cursed under
her breath and tried to disappear behind her menu.

This could get interesting
, Bellamy thought. She
found it hard to believe that Sage was as oblivious to Grace as she seemed to
think. It was unfortunate that sweet, easygoing Tucker Lindley might’ve been
used as a stand-in, but it had happened just the same. Unless he wanted more
from Grace, Bellamy doubted that Tucker had minded much.

They all adjusted to make room for Sage to sit down and
Bellamy picked up her menu, pretending to peruse its offerings while she
covertly watched Sage take in Grace’s slightly disheveled appearance and
masculine article of clothing. His gaze then swung to Tucker, who was staring
back, the grin gone and his jaw set, glaring hard enough to curdle milk, as if
he was daring Sage to comment.

Sage just frowned, shook his head and picked up his own
menu, sighing so loudly Bellamy heard it across the table.

Yep, definitely not oblivious. Or uninterested
.

Grace was just too busy hiding behind her menu to notice the
dynamics of the exchange.

“Looks like most of us had a fun night,” Fritz said, then
jerked and hissed when Kai did something to him beneath the table. He leaned
over to whisper something in Kai’s ear and her cheeks flushed prettily.

Bellamy glanced at Eli’s wrists, praying she didn’t see
bruises on his skin. The inside of his right wrist was purple in one small spot
just above the bone.
Damn.
When she looked up at his face, he was
watching her. He smiled softly then moved an arm behind her along the booth to
trace her backbone with a finger. At the first sore area he hit, she flinched
and caught a gasp before it passed her lips.

Point made. Both of them had physical reminders this
morning.

They all ordered breakfast, talking about everything from
the weather to Ruby’s birthday plans while they waited for their food to
arrive.

No sooner had the waitress set plates down than Sage was
waving a piece of bacon around, saying to Bellamy, “How can you not eat crispy
fried pork fat? Bacon is the meat of the gods. If they made perfume out of it,
women wouldn’t need to take a bath.”

“Gross,” Kai said.

“They make bacon-flavored condoms,” Grace said matter-of-factly,
her gaze trained on her pancakes. “And lube.”

Kai started to giggle and Bellamy knew why. Then Grace
snickered and became overly interested in straightening her napkin on her lap.
Bellamy smothered her own laughter with a quick swallow of tea, praying she
didn’t choke. At Eli’s quizzical look, she just shook her head.
You don’t
want to know.

“Wait—you don’t eat bacon?” Tucker gawped at her like she’d
sprouted a third eye. “That’s un-American, missy.”

“She doesn’t eat meat, period,” Sage supplied.

Beside her, Bellamy felt Eli’s body tense. “That’s enough,
Sage.” She placed a palm on his thigh, trying to tell him with her touch she
could handle it. He covered it with his hand and squeezed. “You don’t eat
beets, but you don’t see any of us making a big deal about it.”

“They taste like dirt. And a lot of people hate ’em.”

“Seriously, how can you resist bacon?” Tucker asked Bellamy,
shoving an entire strip into his mouth.

“You
really
want to get into a discussion with a vet
about all the diseases pigs can carry? Because I can go over them in deep
detail, if you’d like.”

“Never mind,” Tucker mumbled, screwing his face up as he
forced himself to swallow.

“That’s what I thought.” Bellamy took a bite of her
delicious veggie-and-cheese omelet, then fed Eli a forkful when he nodded
toward it and opened his mouth.

Meanwhile, Sage’s lip curled as he warily eyed the remaining
pieces of “crispy fried pork fat” on his plate. Served him right.

“The irony of this conversation is that I have an
appointment in an hour with Petunia the pig,” Bellamy commented.

“Aww,” Grace said. “Is she okay?”

Bellamy did a double take at the genuine sincerity on
Grace’s face. This from a woman who currently wore a pair of leopard-print
stilettos, and would more than likely cry real tears if they ever came in
contact with mud, let alone pig poop. “You
know
Petunia?”

“Everybody knows Petunia,” Fritz said. “She’s probably
birthed at least a dozen grand-champion show pigs over the years, and who knows
how many blue-ribbon winners. George and Kara Freeman, her owners, have a
waiting list of local kids every year who want one of Petunia’s offspring for
the county fair.”

“Well, it’s not looking too good for future litters. Mrs.
Freeman says she’s lost interest in…the reproductive process.”

“I didn’t know that happened with pigs,” Eli said.

“Sure it does,” Bellamy said. “Especially when you consider
they start breeding at around seven months old and it’s a near-constant cycle,
with a healthy sow birthing two litters a year. Domestic swine only live ten to
fifteen years when well cared for. Petunia’s almost seven, so when you do the
math, I imagine she’s grown pretty tired of farrowing local champions.”

“How do you know for sure if that’s what’s wrong?” Kai
asked.

“I’ll give her a thorough physical to rule out any
health-related issues. If I don’t find anything, we’ll know she’s done.”

“Sounds like she’s earned her retirement,” Eli said.

Tucker seconded the sentiment, his remaining bacon
untouched. “I’d say.”