Three
Link
I look down at Rocky, smeared in paint. The grin that spreads across my face is natural. Unforced and unexpected. She looks ridiculous and beautiful at the same time.
I hold my hand out to her and she looks up at me, scrutinizing my face before her fingers finally curl around mine. “Shower?” I ask as I pull her to her feet.
Her eyes trail over my face and down my chest. “Through my room.”
I realize as I follow behind her that not only does she have one of the nicest asses I have ever seen, but also, this is the first time I’ve been in her room. I’m surprised by the simplicity. A bed with plain white sheets, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser with one family photo, a vanity mirror in the corner with a scarf hanging from the edge. There are a few paintings on the walls, but they don’t look like her work. That’s it. Her bed isn’t covered in extra pillows. She doesn’t have shelves of knickknacks, or bowls of potpourri on every available surface. The room fits her.
She keeps going, pushing the door to the bathroom open and flipping on the light. I lean against the frame, watching her bend over to start the shower. The water runs over her hand as she adjusts the temperature. My gaze follows the swirls of color running down her skin and falling in drops into the bathtub, and then directly back to her ass.
I’ve found a lot of women attractive. Women who catch my eye, but not my attention. I can’t remember ever being attracted to a woman like this. Not since Livie.
I can feel my cock thickening again, already standing at attention, just from the sight of Rocky. I’m not sure how to feel about it—about they way my body physically reacts to her.
She rights herself and turns to face me. I step forward, taking her hand, and pull her into the tub with me. I guide her back until she’s directly under the spray, letting the water rinse away the paint.
“Tell me about Carter Bates—the cowboy,” I say as I squeeze some of her shampoo into my hand and begin working it through her hair. It’s stiff with shades of red and blue in some parts—evidence of the time we just shared. And even though just saying Bates’ name pisses me off, I feel content in this moment with my hands tangled in her soapy hair.
I haven’t felt contentment in years. Four years, to be exact. It doesn’t feel real. Or secure. Like I’m dreaming. Or if it’s not a dream, then it will definitely be taken away from me. Hell, it was almost taken away from me.
I lose my train of thought as that awareness strikes. My throat feels like it’s closing up. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to feel comfortable with another woman. Ever.
I never thought I could.
It’s not the same as it was with Liv—nothing ever will be—but, Goddamn, it’s the closest I’ve ever come to it.
And I can’t lose it again.
“I met him at Sticks—that shitty, little western bar,” Rocky replies, answering my question about Bates. “And then I ran into him again at Bo’s the night he came after me.”
I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. “Did anything happen the first night?”
She sighs, blowing water droplets off her lips. My hands have stopped moving, resting in her sudsy dark tendrils. I start massaging her head and her eyes fall shut in appreciation.
“That feels good.”
I smile weakly, though she can’t see the gesture.
“I took him to the bathroom,” she says, her eyes still closed tight. The smile falls away from my face. A flash of anger burns through my veins. I’m seething with just the thought of him touching her, not just for how close she came to being hurt, but also because she fucked around with the same man who murdered my girlfriend. And I can’t deny the sharp flare of jealousy, imagining her with another man.
I feel sick to my stomach.
“Did he do anything?” I ask roughly. “Did he hurt you?”
Rocky’s eyes flutter open and she sighs again. I’m sure she doesn’t want to rehash details, but I need to know. I need as much information as I can get, whether I really want to hear it or not.
“He went down on me in the bathroom and acted like any other guy I’ve left hanging when I walked away.” She pauses, contemplating something. “He was pissed, and he followed me outside, but he didn’t do anything. Not that time. But…”
“What?” I urge. My body coils, tense in anticipation of her words. My hands fist in her hair.
“He kept my panties,” she murmurs.
I drop my hands. Some people—murderers, rapists—like to keep mementoes from their victims. Olivia was missing personal items. I never knew what happened to them, but it’s a good assumption that one of the men from that night kept them. Maybe Bates.
“Pack a bag,” I say. “You’re coming back to my house.”
She arches a brow. The desired effect is ruined by the bubbles sliding down her face. “I’m not staying at your house.”
“Don’t be too proud to protect yourself. Until I take care of Bates, you could be a potential target. Whether you like it or not, I’m going to be your fucking shadow until he’s out of the picture.”
Four
Rocky
I didn’t argue with Link. I packed a few days worth of clothing without any complaint. I don’t know why I gave in so easily, nor do I want to assess it too closely. I like him. I like being around him. And I like the way he makes me feel—both inside and out. And I know he’ll keep me safe. End of story.
So now I’m standing in his living room, my hair still damp from the shower, and not sure what I’m supposed to do with myself.
“Do you have anything to drink?” I ask.
Link drops my bag on the couch and glances over his shoulder at me. “Like water?”
“Or Tequila. Whiskey. Vodka. Or beer will work, too.”
He stares at me, his expression flat. “It’s nine in the morning.”
I stare back, just as expressionless. Waiting.
“The strongest drink I have in the house is Red Bull,” he states. “How about breakfast?”
“Breakfast,” I repeat. “I could eat, I guess.”
Link grins, causing an immediate ache to form between my legs. I might be able to do the whole sobriety thing as long as I have him to keep me occupied. I wonder if I’m just trading in one sin for another.
And I don’t really care.
I trail behind him into the kitchen, hopping up onto the counter while he pulls a pan out of the cabinet. I like watching him, relaxed, moving about the kitchen. It’s a new side to him. One I didn’t know existed. He’s so different than the man seeking vengeance, or the man who does wickedly indecent things to my body, or the one who has made it his life’s goal to protect women.
There are so many sides to this man. And I haven’t found one I don’t appreciate in some way.
“What?” he asks, catching me staring.
I shake my head, feeling my face grow warm. I don’t embarrass easily, but I’m unwilling to explain my thoughts. I’m not sure I should like Link as much as I do. That’s not what we’re doing here. We’re not dating. We’re fucking. He’s my boss. My self-defense instructor. He’s not my friend. Not my boyfriend. This fine line we’re walking is confusing. My head’s all messed up and that’s too personal to share.
“Nothing. You’re just nice to look at.” I give him my seductive smile—the one I use to lure men into public bathrooms to get their knees dirty.
Link’s hazel eyes narrow as they flick over my face. He moves between my legs and rests his hands on my thighs. For once, my body doesn’t tense. Instead, I find myself leaning forward, inclining toward him like he’s a made of metal and I’m a magnet. And that has me even more tangled in my twisted thoughts.
“Why do you do that?” Link’s fingers pulse against my legs with the question.
“Do what?” I ask, confused. We’re nose to nose in this position and it’s distracting. I’d like nothing more than to cover his mouth with mine and silence his questions. Talking is overrated.
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“Use your sensuality to deflect.” He states it so matter-of-factly that I’m caught off guard. I’m not used to people reading me so well. Or calling me on my shit. It’s surprising. And unnerving.
I feel my scowl fall into place. “Did it ever occur to you that I might just be attracted to you?”
He smirks, one brow rising almost smugly. “I know you’re attracted to me,” he says. “But that’s not what that was.”
“How do you know? You don’t know me well enough to distinguish the differences in my smiles.”
“I think I know you pretty well.” His hands slip between my legs under my skirt, sliding up my inner thighs. He sweeps his thumb over my mound, covered by only a pair of lacey panties. “I know your body,” he husks. He moves my panties to the side, grazing his finger over my clit.
I swallow tightly and expel a shuddering breath. I blink slowly, wet my lips, and raise my hips to meet his hand.
“I know the way you smell. The way you taste. The way you feel from the inside, wrapped around me, wet and warm.” His mouth moves against my neck, his tongue swirling over my flesh in the same way his finger moves against my pussy.
“I know you biblically. I know that when you look at me with desire, you’re pupils dilate, concealing the chocolate brown of your eyes. The pulse in your throat visibly pounds against your skin. And your gorgeous chest rises quickly with every panted breath you take, pushing your tits tight against your shirt.”
He moves his finger, slipping it inside of me, and I moan into his shoulder. I don’t doubt everything he’s saying is true. I feel myself reacting exactly the way he just described.
He circles his finger one more time before pulling away and stepping back. His eyes move over my face, his gaze appreciative. But the loss of his touch is unwelcome.
Why is he moving away from me when I want him closer?
“Just like this,” he murmurs. “This isn’t the way you looked at me a few minutes ago.”
I’m bewildered for several seconds. I stay perfectly still, trying to make sense of what just happened as I catch my breath.
“It’s shitty when someone uses sex to get what they want,” he adds.
I look pointedly to the tent he’s displaying in his jeans. “It’s not all that bad,” I utter.
He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, pressing his lips together to hide his smile, I think. He turns back to me, his stare probing, calculating.
“Agreed,” he decides. He moves before I can make sense of his statement. His body slams into mine. He grips me under the knees, tugging me to the edge of the countertop. In this position, I’m snug against his erection. I wrap my legs around his waist, securing him to me.
Link hauls my shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor. My bra goes next and his tongue lashes at my nipple before he closes his lips around it, sucking. My stomach somersaults as yearning builds in my core. My panties dampen, sticking to me as I grind myself against him.
I yank on his shirt and he pulls away just long enough to jerk it over his head. He goes right back in, directing his attention to my other breast. I’ll never get enough of this new feeling—this new craving he elicits in me.
He presses into me, guiding me backward. I lie across his counter, the marble slab cold against my bare back. He shoves my skirt up around my waist. I’m already slipping my panties off and he watches, openly admiring my body.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands. His eyes are locked on my pussy and I think the look alone could make me come. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“Fuck me with your mouth.” He lowers his head and trails his tongue between my folds before I finish the sentence, as if he wanted this more than I did. If that’s possible.
I push myself closer, greedily. He laps, then sucks. Nibbles, and probes. Every time I feel myself building, ready to fall off the edge, he changes it up again. It’s excruciating—almost painful—and pleasing at the same time.
But by the fourth time he denies me my orgasm, I almost start crying. “Please, Link,” I beg, digging my nails into his head as I thrust my hips in search of relief.
“Please what?” he breathes against me. “What do you want, Rocky?”
“Fuck,” I pant. “I want to come. Make me come.”
I prop myself on one elbow just in time to see him smile. And then he inserts two of his long, callused fingers inside of me. His lips wrap around my clit, his tongue kneading as he sucks. His mouth and his hand perform a perfect rhythm, and I explode.
It might be the way he deprived me, delaying my relief, but ripple after ripple of pleasure pulsates through my body in prolonged waves of elation. And he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, setting off a whole new set of rapture until I’m shoving him away, unable to take one more blissful second.
“Stop,” I groan, exhausted. I claw at his back, pulling him up my body. His mouth and chin are shimmering, wet with my arousal. I guide him closer, reaching between us, and unbuttoning his pants at the same time as I flick my tongue out, licking his jaw.
His eyes lock onto mine as I sweep my tongue over his rough chin, moving closer to his lips. He doesn’t stop me. He holds himself over me, immobile. I reach inside his jeans, circling my hand around his hard cock. His breath hitches and he releases it on a moan. And I slide my tongue into his open mouth.
Link bites down gently, holding me in place. We stay like this for a moment, me stroking his silky smooth shaft, him clamping down on my tongue, before he finally touches his lips to mine for one, quick second. He releases me, turning his head, his nose disappearing into my hair. One hand follows, his fingers tangling into my dark locks. He tugs softly and I go immediately, nestling myself closer.
I place my heels on his ass, nudging him into me. He glides his cock through my wetness, a low growl vibrating in his throat, and he thrusts, filling me in one movement.
Five
Link
I wake up to a warm body draped along my side. I smile as the foreign feeling of happiness radiates in my chest. I smooth the long dark hair off my arm, relishing the sensation as it brushes against my skin. I sweep it off of her bare shoulder and press a kiss to her neck, inhaling deeply.
And then everything comes rushing back as Rocky’s scent fills my senses.
Not Olivia’s.
My happiness bursts like a broken dam. Not because Olivia isn’t here. But because as I realized it was Rocky’s body against me, I still felt satisfied. Because I didn’t feel the misery of Livie’s loss.
Because all I can feel now is shame. My first instinct wasn’t to miss Liv. It was to enjoy Rocky.
I roll onto my back and pinch my eyes shut. I crush my palms against my forehead. This wasn’t anticipated. This was never part of my plan.
She’s just a girl. A girl with a similar past. A girl that reminds me of Liv. A girl I can lose myself in. A girl I can see myself with.
A girl I could lose if I don’t protect her.
I need to get back on track. Right myself.
I slip out of bed, not bothering to dress, and move quietly through the house. I find the photo—my checklist, if you will—and place it on the counter. I stare down at it, memorizing Bates’ face. And then I envision a target on his forehead. Because he’s next. I need to get him out of the picture to ensure Rocky’s safety.
I need to focus.
Two down. Two to go.
I’m almost there.
I place my hands flat on the counter, close my eyes, and lower my head to my chest. Four years. I spent four years planning my revenge and seeking my vengeance. And in one night, my life’s goal was altered. I haven’t forgotten Liv. She’ll still have her justice. But right now, it doesn’t seem as important as it did just yesterday. Because retribution isn’t the sole purpose any longer. Now it’s prevention. Protection. It’s self-defense.
I’m defending Rocky’s life. I’m defending myself against suffering another loss.
I hear the so
ft shuffle of feet on the wooden floor, but I don’t move. Not yet. I need a few more moments to accept these changes.
Rocky’s naked body presses against mine. Her hands circle around me, cupping the front of my bare thighs. My body automatically responds, awakening to her touch. She drags her lips down my back, kissing scar after scar. I still don’t move, now for different reasons. I don’t want her to stop. I want to stretch out this space in time as long as I can. These few seconds where I feel good.
Her hand slides along my skin, slowly, until she’s grasping my cock. I feel her lips turn up in a smile against my back when she finds me rock-hard and ready for her.
She pumps me, beating me off as her other hand squeezes my balls. My head falls back and I hiss, sucking air through my teeth. Everything she does feels so goddamn good. I’m going to blow my load already.
I lean against her, backing her up until I have enough room to turn around. I grab her, spinning her so her back is now against my chest and I place my hand between her legs in the same way she did to me.
Rocky gasps as I part her pussy and caress her swollen clit. I slide my middle finger down through her arousal. And just as she did when she found me ready for her, I smile, knowing we’re attuned to one another.
I bend her over the counter, stretching her hands out to her sides. She watches me over her shoulder as I line myself up behind her. I meet her gaze, verifying this is okay. She bites down on her lip as if she isn’t sure. She closes her eyes in contemplation before nodding her head and giving the okay.
I glide my head through her wetness several times, giving her time to change her mind about this position, before finally slipping into her entrance. This is the third time I’ve been inside her, but each time feels better than the last.
I love being inside her.
She rocks back into me and I thrust forward. My fingers lock onto her hips and we continue this way, meeting in the middle. I lean down and run my tongue up her neck, savoring the saltiness of her skin. She turns her head and nips my ear, and then my jaw, and then my chin. I want to seal my mouth to hers and suck her tongue into my mouth, but I hold back, dousing that desire. I’m not ready. Not yet. But every time she’s this close, the craving grows stronger. It’s becoming harder to deny and I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to fight it much longer.