Chance of a Lifetime (5 page)

“Yes. Please.”

Slowly withdrawing his hand, he pinched her clit, making her buck with reaction, a gasp leaving her lips. He brought the fingers to his mouth, tasted her. When she made a soft yearning noise in her throat, he couldn’t wait another second.

Standing up, he lifted her to her feet, an effortless move that made Stacie’s stomach drop. Almost as much as when he pressed on her shoulder, his face uncompromising, unrelenting, making her do his will as he eased her back down to her knees, controlling her descent. His gaze watched the changes in her face so intently, a way she’d never been looked at by anyone, as if he was registering everything about her life in how she reacted to every new thing.

Jake thought if she wet her lips once more, he was going to explode. “Open my jeans.”

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Bringing her cuffed hands up, she obeyed, unbuckling the belt and slipping the button to take the zipper down in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly, as if sensing his urgency, she moved much faster, yanking it down and spreading her hands across his pelvis, her fingers curving inside the jeans to dig into his hips as she moved forward on her knees. He stifled a groan, stripping the belt out of the way and dropping it as she mouthed him through the fabric of his underwear, biting him, trying to get it out of her way as well. When he pushed her touch aside, he shoved down the garment so that his cock stretched long and hard out of the opening of his pants. She closed both hands over him and rubbed her cheek along his length in an oddly tender gesture that mixed something else with his hard desire. God, she was the perfect little submissive. Enjoying his control of her while she made him want to beg.

“Put me in your mouth. I’m going to go fucking crazy if you don’t.”

She took him in without reservation, generously, and he had to close his eyes to keep himself from jetting from the first touch of her soft lips. She probably wore some type of lipstick with a name as innocent as she was. Primrose, or Pink Blush. The fact she’d barely hesitated to take his cock like this didn’t make her less innocent. Working on the streets, he’d seen homeless people with it. Sometimes even the younger drug dealers. It was something unblemished in a soul, something that could be beaten down or even destroyed, a loss to the whole world, but it couldn’t be changed. She’d be the type of person who would light up in surprise at a bouquet of picked flowers. Stand at a kitchen sink in the morning, watching birds feed from the window feeder.

It wasn’t hard to put those two thoughts together and create a bunch more. He could imagine her in one of his T-shirts, playing with the trio of daisies he’d given her from some roadside wild garden. She’d put it in one of his spotted beer mugs. Probably his favorite one, just to tease him. He’d stumble into his kitchen, grumpy and groggy, and she’d be standing at the window at the sink, watching the sun rise along with the birds. The room would smell like the coffee she’d put on. The shirt would show enough of her slender thighs that his fingers would want to find her under that shirt and drive 32

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her to climax as he bit her tender nape, waking up in a way that even coffee couldn’t match.

Closing his eyes wasn’t helping. It’d been too long since he’d had a woman he wanted to keep. Maybe he’d even had a bachelor’s tendency to avoid anything as good as what was on her knees before him now. This one could make him change his mind about that, but maybe she only wanted this moment, this fantasy. What was he going to do about that?

Her moves weren’t well-practiced. She was being driven by whatever fire was burning inside of her to touch and taste him everywhere she could reach. That raw desire called a response from him he wasn’t sure she could handle. He wasn’t sure if he could. Then she reached up to caress his stomach and forgot the cuffs were positioned below his cock, pinching tender skin.

He flinched and her gaze snapped up to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“No.” He fisted his hand in her hair, rubbed his thumb along her temple. “I’m sorry. I should have done this first.” He didn’t want to tell their kids the first time their mother had kissed him, it hadn’t been on his lips. Catching her by the shoulders, he lifted her back to her feet and lowered his mouth to hers.

Oh God. Yes.
Stacie closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by the firmness of those lips, the wet heat as he invaded her mouth, biting at her before he sealed the pressure there, teasing her, exploring her mouth. With her hands cuffed she could do nothing but be held by him, experience the explosion of sensation. Who knew that having one’s lips caressed by a man’s tongue could send electrical current through every part of the body? He had one arm banded around her back, the other behind her head. Her arms were bent so her wrists pressed against his chest, pinning her arms. His cock pushed between her thighs, only the thin dress in between. When he lowered that arm, palmed her ass and hitched her up so she straddled it, holding it between her thighs so he could do a slow rub against her clit, any sense of shame fled. She rubbed back, tightening her buttocks under the knowledgeable kneading of his fingers, 33

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standing on her toes on top of his shoes, straining for every sensation. As he lifted her off her feet, holding her even more tightly, she whimpered into his mouth.

When he pulled away, her body was looser than it had ever been and radiating like a nuclear core.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she managed. “I—”

“I want you to want me so bad you don’t mind hurting me to get what you want. If you don’t,” a slow smile spread over his face, “I’m doing something wrong.”

Stacie felt her lower body turn to heated wax at that smile. “Same goes,” she whispered.

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Chance of a Lifetime

Chapter Four

That smile died away as she took hold of his shirt, used it to lower herself back to her knees without his compulsion. Keeping her eyes on his, she covered him with her mouth, taking him in as far as she could. Hot, hard, musky male. His hand came back down to grip her hair, his facial features tightening with his desire. With her hands cuffed she had to hold onto the root of his cock with both hands, the base of her palms pressing into his testicles, still half hidden in his underwear.

She’d never wanted to do this for John. Never felt the slightest desire. But now she was exactly where she wanted to be, her body coiled like a spring, so aroused she couldn’t help the noises of hunger she made as she went down on him again and again, sucking, nipping, flicking her tongue. She felt the convulsion of his hand on her head, knew from glancing up that his face was suffused with hard lust, eyes burning with it as he watched her, every muscle taut. She took pleasure in that as well, this time carefully stretching her fingers so that she could tangle them in his pubic hair, put a little dangerous, sensual pressure on the base of his cock with the cuffs as she teased his lower abdomen.

Catching her head in both hands, Jake lifted her mouth roughly away from him, nearly groaned at the sheer pleasure of it when her tongue swiped at his tip, taking the fluid that had collected there and added it to the moist glistening of her lips.

Jesus, he wanted her. But he didn’t have any way to… he could use his mouth on her, make her come, but he wanted more out of this than just the two of them going down on each other. This was deeper than that. He knew he was being stupid but…

“I want you inside of me. Please.”

He closed his eyes as she spoke the words so fiercely echoing in his own head. He had to make himself shove away the desire to be careless. Guardian and protector.

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That’s what she’d said. He couldn’t let her down on that. He’d do his best to sate her desire without relieving his own need to spread her legs, plunge into her, make her his.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I don’t have anything to keep you safe.”

She didn’t care. Stacie stood up on her knees, brought the cuffed hands out from beneath his cock and up to run her palms under the T-shirt and feel how his arousal had made his firm skin damp. Pushing the fabric out of the way, she kissed him across his stomach, flicked her tongue over a hip bone, touched his navel. He caught her hands when they reached his chest and tugged her to her feet. With her hands trapped between them, he cupped her ass, bringing her hard against his cock, rubbing her there again. The sounds of hunger in her throat were increasing, and when he tightened an arm around her waist and pressed his leg between hers, she rode his thigh with ruthless abandon, gasping as he squeezed her buttocks, goading her to an even more frenetic rhythm. The man was standing and holding her on his thigh with one arm. The idea of such strength was delicious.

Though she knew a physically strong man didn’t translate into security or being emotionally strong, she could pretend it did, since she hadn’t asked for more than this night. But oh, to have a man like this as a part of her life. He would only have to be one half of the fantasy he’d been so far to be enough. Just give her love, gentleness, a sense of safety and passion. Passion like this would keep her warm no matter how old she was when she recalled it.

She supposed it was just like a woman to mix these kinds of thoughts with an unadulterated, lustful moment. He probably wasn’t thinking about anything like this.

Jake was thinking she was a generous lover, a beautiful woman with a fragile, pure soul that practically shone through her pale skin. And a mouth that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. If that wasn’t a man’s idea of perfection, he didn’t know what was.

Stacie blinked as he drew back to rearrange his clothes, hiding his still turgid length from her and wincing as he worked to tuck it back in. Before she could protest, he 36

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caught her under her arms and legs, simply scooping her up in his arms to carry her to the front hood of the Porsche. “We’ll do this another way,” he growled. “I want to hear you scream.”

She wanted to scream now. Why couldn’t farmers produce fields of condoms instead of corn? It was such a ridiculous thought it helped loosen the strangling band of frustration in her vitals.

“What, you weren’t prepared to take home a band of groupies at the game?” she attempted to tease him.

He smiled, though desire kept his jaw in a tense set she couldn’t help but caress with her bound fingers as he set her on the hood. “We don’t like to admit it, but firefighters always get the best pussy. We did kick their asses seven to five though.”

Her answering smile died as he put one hand on her sternum, his fingers spread over the curves of her breasts in the low-cut bra. Holding the cuffs, he pushed her back slowly, his eyes coursing over her body until she lay all the way on her back. He kept hold of her wrists, resting them on one of her thighs, his fingers touching her there.

“I don’t believe that,” she murmured. “Not if they had their eyes open.”

“If you come to the game, honey, next time I’ll bring a full dozen condoms.” He gave her a heated look that was contagious, spreading fire on her skin. “You better expect to use the first two or three before we even get out of the parking lot.”

“Why, that sounds like a date, Lieutenant.”

He let his free hand drift down her quivering stomach, down to her mound. It stayed there, his fingers teasing her as he gathered up the edge of her skirt again, one inch at a time.

“I don’t fuck women on back roads. I don’t pick them up in bars. I’ve had two or three adult relationships, some one-night stands. Most of the one-night stands were mistakes.”

“Do you think that’s what this is?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer.

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“I don’t know. But I will if you show up at the next game.”

He eased the crotch of her thong aside again, revealing her pussy to the night air.

Cicadas made their rasping songs and frogs warbled, telling her there was water nearby, perhaps a fishing pond. The air was heavy with summer’s heat, but the cool touch of the moon gave the night some breathing room, not that she could tell. Because of the look in his eyes, she was having trouble getting oxygen into her lungs.

“Touch your pussy for me, little girl.”

“Oh…” She knew it was ridiculous, as forward as she’d been until now, but she’d never done that type of thing in front of a man. Only in her bedroom, alone…

“I wasn’t asking. Do it.”

Reaction shot through her, leaking out of the area in question, such that his gaze registered it, flared hot. “I’d say just close your eyes and imagine you’re in your bedroom, no one else around, but I want you to see how hard my cock is and how much I like watching you play with yourself. Make me suffer, baby.”

He guided her resisting fingers across her thigh and up onto her pussy. At the dual touch on her vibrating skin, she couldn’t help straining up for more.

“Un-unh.” He took his hand away, leaving it all to her. “You don’t get anything from me until you play with that pretty wet cunt, show me how much you want my mouth there. Or maybe I should get my nightstick from the car. Maybe you’d prefer something long and hard up inside of you, my lips playing with your clit until you come. You have a gorgeous little ass. I might need a finger or two up there as well.” At her startled look, replaced by aroused speculation, he growled his approval. “A virgin in that area. Makes me all the hotter. I want to take you everywhere, so no part of you hasn’t had me in it.”

All of it sounded wonderful. How could it not? But she wanted his cock inside of her pussy the most, completing her and connecting with her. This yearning in her was more than just physical. As she looked at that lean body, she wasn’t just seeing some pin-up in a magazine where the muscle was two-dimensional and glossy. He had a scar 38

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on his forearm. His face was handsome but lined, probably from the stress of his job. It occurred to her then how difficult that job must be. He was also probably exposed to outside elements a lot, some combination of all those factors creating a face with character. His T-shirt had a stain on it that looked like salsa or ketchup, maybe from chips or fries enjoyed at the game. He didn’t go to a great hair stylist, which was why she guessed he kept it so short, besides the military-style dress code of his job. His short nails weren’t entirely clean at the moment, coming from the ball field. He had dirt and grass stains on the knees of his jeans. He’d tried to brush them off. Otherwise she would have noticed it before now.