I glance behind me to ensure that the door is indeed closed before I continue. Fanning myself, I say, “I swear, I’ve never been so horny in my life. I’m pretty sure both Max and I are masturbating so much our fingers are going crooked. If he doesn’t give up the goods soon, I’m going to buy a new vibrator.” Wrinkling my nose, I add, “I have no idea what the movers that Daddy hired to clear out my apartment did with my last one.”
“Oh my God.” Lia holds her sides as she laughs. “I can just picture some guy with a carpenter’s crack holding that up and scratching his head.”
Wiggling my eyebrows, I say, “He probably took it home to the wife. That thing was a top-of-the-line rabbit. It not only went up and down, but it also did the side-to-side motion. And the rabbit ears—”
“I really don’t need that many details about your little plastic friend.” Lia smirks.
I lean back in my chair, crossing my legs while I look at my nails. “Oh honey, there was nothing little about it. That baby was the mega bunny model, and as large as it was, I’m certain that Max is bigger.” My head rolls to the back of the chair as I huff in frustration. “Do you have any idea how miserable it is to have that whopper nestled between the crack of my ass every night and not be able to do anything about it?” Lowering my voice, I add, “You know I never did the anal thing with Jake even though he wanted to. But I’d take anything I could get at this point from Max. If he wants to explore what’s behind door number two, then I’ll open the gates and wave him on in.”
Lia drops her head on her desk and then makes a gagging sound as if she’s choking. “Please, stop telling me stuff about Max! Lucian thinks I’ve got some kind of secret crush on him already since I blush every time I’m in the same room with him. I told him it was just because you talk about the size of his pecker constantly. And as you can imagine, he wasn’t really any happier with that bit of information. Then he wanted to know if we also discuss the size of his package.”
“Well, it’s certainly not for lack of trying on my part.” I pout. “When your best friend is married to a guy like Lucian Quinn, there should be a lot more sex talk. I have to drag everything out of you. Couldn’t you at least photograph his pecker while he’s asleep or something? I bet the sucker is the size of my leg. I’ve seen you limping around some days like you’ve thrown your vagina out of joint.”
She giggles before tossing a pen in my direction. “You’re such a pervert. Do you ever think of anything other than sex?”
“If I thought of it more, then I wouldn’t be going all Edward Scissorhands all over myself, would I?” I say truthfully. While Jake and I had been together, my cutting had been at all-time low until I began to suspect he was cheating on me. I’d used sex as a form of escape when I was stressed. The high that an orgasm gave me temporarily distracted me from the urge to harm myself. If Jake suspected that, at times, it had little to do with my desire for him and everything to do with diversion, he never mentioned it. Hell, he was a college guy. I doubt he looked too deeply at why we sometimes fucked three times a day. I have to wonder now if he hadn’t known at some point, especially as he learned more about me and how screwed up I was.
Lia’s face falls, and I mentally kick myself. I’ve gotten used to discussing my issues in a humorous way with Max. “I shouldn’t have said that,” she adds quickly. “Of course, you have other things on your mind. I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop, chick. Please don’t do that. We’ve never watched our words around each other and it would kill me if we started now. My twisted sense of humor is the only thing that gets me through the day sometimes, and I need you to be okay with it. Heck, we joked about your mother and your crazy-ass stepfather more times than I can count and you didn’t freak out on me. You, better than anyone, understand that laughter takes some of the power from the pain. Yes, I’ve been cutting myself and it’s a serious matter, but it’s easier for me to cope this way.”
I see the look of understanding on her face as she nods. “You’re absolutely right. Normal just isn’t you. Thank God, I’m not sure how much longer I could keep up the nice act. I’ll ask Lee if he can install a metal detector so we’ll know when you’re packing any sharp objects.” She winces when she delivers her last line and asks hesitantly, “Too much?”
I chuckle; one of the things I love about her is how she cares about others. It’s hard for her to even pretend to be mean. I wink at her before saying, “I thought it was good. Why don’t we skip the detector, though, and have your hot daddy frisk me?”
“Ugh!” She gags. “Must you lust after my father? If it’s something you have to do, then keep it to yourself. It’s bad enough that you want to discuss my husband’s … size, but I draw the line at Lee.” Pointing out the obvious, she adds, “You really need to get some action, don’t you?”
“Duh, haven’t I been saying that? I don’t know how much longer I can sleep with Max and not attack him. I’m ready to throw all my pride away and do something drastic like hump his leg.”
She looks puzzled as she studies me. “What are you waiting for then? Do you want him to seduce you or something along those lines?”
With a sigh, I admit, “I know he wants me. I’m not exaggerating when I say that sparks fly when we’re together.” Looking down at my hands, I add, “He’s afraid of breaking me more. He hasn’t come right out and said that, but I can read between the lines.”
She motions wildly with her hands as she gives me an order. “Go home tonight and have sex. Make him give it to you.”
My mouth drops open in shock. She’s still glaring at me, which is amusing but a little unsettling as well. Poor Lucian. She must scare the hell out of him when she goes into this bossy mode. “Cool your jets, sister. I get what you’re saying, and I agree. It’s time to turn up the heat and really let Mr. Decker sweat.”
She gives me enthusiastic thumbs up, and then we put the personal talk aside and focus on our work. A part of me never dared to dream I would be here, and regardless of what comes, I’m doing it—living life on my own terms. And I refuse to let anyone take that away from me. Not surprisingly, I haven’t heard a word from my parents. In some respects, after so many years of ruling my life, I wonder if they’ve missed the sick thrill of commanding their subservient daughter.
* * *
I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. I’ve texted Rose no less than ten times. At one point, Lucian even ordered me to go home, but I knew it would be worse there with nothing to occupy my mind. She sent me a message earlier to let me know that Lia was dropping her at the house around five, and I’d grabbed my briefcase and made my way embarrassingly fast through the lobby of Quinn Software to my car.
Traffic in downtown Asheville is a nightmare, as usual, and I find myself tapping my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as I move at a snail’s pace. When I finally spot my home in the distance, I let out a sigh of relief. I pull into the garage and am at the door leading into the kitchen in seconds. As I step inside, all of my senses are on high alert. I’ve missed her today. Despite living in each other’s pockets for the last two weeks, it wasn’t difficult. It’s not a concern that has my senses alert, but the need to see her. Touch her. Be with her. The air is fragrant with something that smells amazing. Italian, if I had to guess. Rose is standing at the stove stirring a pot. She turns to give me a cheeky smile as she says, “Welcome home, honey. How was your day?”
I know she is teasing me, but those words sound so damn good that I can’t stop myself. In a few strides, I am against her back with my face buried in her hair. My hands go to her hips as I pull her even closer. “Hey, baby,” I growl as she pushes her ass back against me.
“Mmm,” she moans. “You feel good.” My lips are trailing kisses down her neck and my cock is begging for relief when she swats us both down by stepping to the side. She clears her throat loudly. “Um … I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I refuse to burn the pasta again. So go set the table while I finishing cooling … er, cooking.?
??
I know if I touch her, she’ll cave, and I’m seriously considering it when she trails a hand over the bulge in my pants. “Hold that thought. I plan to thoroughly handle the situation for you this evening.” She points the wooden spoon at me that she’s holding and adds, “Don’t even think about refusing. I’m done waiting.”
Fuck yes. Apparently, we’re on the same page tonight. I’ve been the good guy about as long as I can. I’ve jacked off so much since she moved in that I am in serious danger of developing carpal tunnel. I could only imagine explaining the cause of that particular injury to my doctor. I even resorted to taking a picture of Rose one morning while she was still sleeping in my bed. The first light of the day had been filtering into the room through the blinds and she’d looked so fucking sexy wearing one of the skimpy nightgowns she’d taken to wearing—no doubt to torture me. The sheet had fallen away at some point exposing the curve of her delectable ass where the gown had ridden up. She’d looked like the perfect mixture of innocent and siren. I’m not proud of it, but that photograph had become regular inspiration in my spank sessions. I always felt a bit like a creeper for doing it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. She snaps her fingers in front of my face, effectively jolting me back to the present. Obviously, she’d been waiting for a response from me. I surprise myself by slapping her on the ass before growling, “This meal better be fast. Otherwise, I’ll be fucking you on the kitchen table and we’ll be calling Domino’s afterward.” Her mouth is hanging open as I leave the kitchen, chuckling under my breath. That’s right, baby, tonight you’re all mine.
I’m rock hard as I gingerly pull the zipper of my jeans past my erection. I’ve spent the months since meeting Rose fighting my attraction for her. Through it all, though, I feel that it was inevitable we’d end up here. If I’m being truthful, I’m still terrified of letting myself care for another woman, but sometimes in life the choice is taken from you. I can no longer hide from the fact that I’m falling for the beautiful, vivacious, and troubled woman in my kitchen. She’s different from anyone I’ve ever known. My first impression of her was spoiled, repressed, rich girl. That didn’t stop me from being attracted to her, but I never would have guessed the number of layers I’d have to peel back to find the true Rose underneath all of the false bravado.
I’ve watched her struggling the past few weeks since her hospitalization. I’ve done my best to keep the mood light so she would be unaware of how worried I’ve been about her. The last thing I want is for her to feel as if she’s under constant scrutiny. But at the same time, I don’t want a repeat of what I found the night she almost bled to death on my bathroom floor. I know some of her triggers now, and I try to distract her if I sense she’s getting lost in her head. I know that ultimately only she can be responsible for her actions. I can’t manage her stress level, nor her need for pain to center herself. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t try everything in my power to prevent her from hurting herself again.
We’ve spent every night in each other’s arms. She no longer bothers with the pretense of going to the guest room before bed. Her nightgowns are in the drawers I cleaned out for her in my dresser. We stand side-by-side most evenings as we brush our teeth. I believe she finds comfort in our routine and the ease with which we co-exist. That’s not to say you couldn’t cut the sexual tension between us with a knife, but even that has become a familiar part of our lives. I’ve been afraid of initiating sex for fear it would change that dynamic.
Thus far, I haven’t learned anything of note from the background check on Rose. A few nights after she came home from the hospital, she became restless in her sleep. She was crying when she awoke. I rocked her gently in my arms as she told me hesitantly about the same dream she’d mentioned to Lucian. I was more convinced than ever that she’s blocked out something that happened to her years ago. Either that or she was too young to understand it properly. I am meeting with a new investigator tomorrow who comes highly recommended by Lee Jacks. Lucian had reached out to his father-in-law when we’d been unable to find any further information on our own. I’m going to find out what’s haunting my woman’s dreams. But tonight, I plan to give her something new to fill her sleeping hours.
“Bad news,” I hear from behind me. Turning, I see Rose standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a rueful smile tugging at her full lips.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” I ask, thinking it can’t be too bad if she looks this relaxed.
She moves into the room, never breaking eye contact as her fingers go to the first button on her blouse. She has my attention now that’s for damn sure. I’m struggling to keep my eyes from dropping to her chest as another inch of creamy skin is revealed. Fuck it, I’m just a man. There’s no way I can take the high road when tits are involved. She shrugs her slim shoulders causing her breasts to jiggle. I growl like an animal, barely hearing her when she says, “It appears I’ve ruined our meal yet again. I can change clothing if you want to go out to eat. Or we could call—”
“I’m not hungry … for food,” I hiss as I bridge the distance between us. I lower my hands to her hips, but let her continue to leisurely tackle the remaining buttons. I note with satisfaction that her hands aren’t quite as steady now as she fumbles with the last one. “Need some help, baby?” She shakes her head and bites her lip as she concentrates on the task at hand.
“All right,” she squeals as the thin material falls aside and her breasts—in a lacy pushup bra that barely contains them—are revealed. She seems to have forgotten for a moment in her excitement that she’s partially naked. I remedy that when my hands come up to pull her bra down and expose her strawberry-tipped nipples. The cold air has the peaks instantly puckering and begging for my attention. “Max …” she groans as I lower my head to lick and suck one tip into my mouth.
I’m not certain who makes the first move, but we’re suddenly a tangle of limbs on my bed. Instead of the hours of leisurely lovemaking I’d imagined, we’re both grabbing wildly at each other’s clothing. Within moments, we’re naked and her hand is on my cock. I’m mere moments away from blowing my load, and that’s not how I want our first time to go. I need to slow the momentum or we’ll be sitting in the kitchen having dinner within the next ten minutes and Rose will inform Lia tomorrow that I’m the sixty-second man. Hell no, that’s not happening. There’s plenty of time for quickies later. Tonight, I’ll taste the exquisite pussy that I’ve fantasized about for months. I put my hand over hers, grinding my hips against it for a second before pulling away.
“Lay back and spread your legs, sweetheart.” When she remains on her knees staring at my cock as if she’s going to weep if she doesn’t have it, I straighten my back. This may not have been the best idea since it causes my hard length to bob around like a circus act. “Now, Rose!” I snap, finally jarring her into action.
The sight of her pink pussy glistening with her arousal has me closing my eyes and singing “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer” in my head. “Fuck me, Max,” she begs huskily, and I fear I’m going to have a stroke. This is like being in a porn movie: Beautiful girl with an amazing body, begging me to fuck her. Ninety bottles of beer on the wall … I gingerly settle onto my stomach, feeling my cock trying to drill a hole into the mattress. I toss her legs over my shoulders. She stiffens under me and tries to bring her thighs together. “No. Please not that,” she begs, sounding so different from the passionate woman of moments before.
Then it hits me. She doesn’t want me to see her scars. Her hands are attempting to cover the soft skin there as she pulls against my hold on her. “Stop, baby,” I whisper. I could release her now and move on to another area of her body, but something tells me that isn’t what she really needs. That will only confirm her fears that I find her imperfections ugly and that’s far from the truth. It pains me to see the evidence of how long and hard she’s been crying out for help, with no one listening. The marks are a part of who she is and every one of them tells the story of Rose Madden. Do
I hope that another angry red line never mars her body? Absolutely. But I’m in no way repulsed by the ones that do. It’s how she has coped with a world that prizes perfection above all else. She’s begging to be accepted for the person beneath the public face. And I see her. The beautifully imperfect woman who’s spent her life feeling as if she was never good enough for the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally.
I nudge her hands aside and begin dropping kisses onto the puckered flesh. A sob catches in her throat as her movements still. “Max,” she breathes as my lips attempt to soothe away the hurt she’s endured both inside and out. Her hands fall away from her legs and sink into my hair. I seek out and worship each blemish until I reach the one from just a few weeks ago that could have taken her away from me. The area is still a pink pucker, but it’s healing quickly.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” I murmur against the sensitive flesh there as I tenderly attempt to stroke away the anguish she was feeling the night she hurt herself. The ugly words spoken in that bathroom crushed her so much that she wanted nothing but to flee from it all. “Never think for one single second that I don’t adore every inch of this body.” I feel her shaking and know that her emotions are close to the surface, so I decide that now is the time to show her exactly what I’ve been longing for night after night as she slept in my bed.
My head shifts and I’ve overcome by her scent. A mixture of fucking candy and exotic spices. Unable to help myself, my tongue slips into her folds and I lick her slick cunt. Her hips bow up, and I put my arm over them, bringing her back down onto the bed. “Oh my—sweet, shit!” she yells, and I can’t help but grin at her choice of words. Sweet shit? Yeah, that’s a first, but I’ll take it. I suck her swollen clit into my mouth and give it a hard pull as I insert a finger into her wet heat. Her walls are quaking as I alternate fucking her with my mouth and hand. Even though I’m hard enough to cut stone, I’m still almost disappointed when she comes two times in quick succession. How have I deprived myself of this for so fucking long? Her passion. Her sexual appetite. Her taste. Her pussy is addictive, and I could eat it all day. Her hands that had been pushing me into her slit are now pulling me almost painfully away. “I want you inside,” she gasps out. “Your tongue is killing me.”