Extreme Danger (44 page)

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Authors: Shannon McKenna

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

BOOK: Extreme Danger
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She frowned. “Huh. I certainly haven’t seen any gentlemanly moments. I think you’re a big, grumpy bear. With a potty mouth.”

“I can’t do the charming and suave routine with you,” he said, in a wondering voice. “I just can’t do it.”

“Hmph,” she sniffed. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. Should I take it as a compliment or an insult?”

She was joking, but he took her question at face value. “I think it’s a compliment,” he said. “I can’t be anything but flat out real with you. Even if what’s real is rude and ugly.”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She stared at him.

“And it’s weird, because I never wanted to nail any woman the way I want to nail you,” he went on. “You’d think I could control myself a little better, considering how motivated I am.”

“Oh. Gee. How very romantic.” She started turning pink.

He grabbed her hand, and placed it on the thick, long bulge of his erection. “Don’t be sarcastic,” he said. “I’m baring my soul here. Just look what happens to me when I do that.”

“Your soul or your dick?” She stared down at her hand, rubbing up and down over that hard, hot bulge. Her toes curled up in her sneakers. “This is your natural state. You’re always at the ready.”

He closed her fingers within the hot cage of his fist, rubbing it harder over his unyielding flesh. “No, actually, this is new. I’ve only had this problem since I met you. You’re under my skin. You drive me nuts.”

“Wow. Lovely,” she muttered. “I sound like a bad rash. Here comes Becca. Grab the cortisone cream.”

He let out a crack of laughter. “You do inflame me, that’s for sure. There’s a raging fire in my loins, babe. Only you can put it out.”

She hooted. “Put it out, hah! That’s a joke. It never gets put out. You’re like those trick birthday candles. You blow and blow and…” Her voice trailed off as his grin widened.

“Oh, yeah.” He waggled his eyebrows with cheerful lewdness.

She blushed. “Oh, stop it. That’s not what I meant.”

He looked comically downcast. “It’s not? Aw. Too bad.”

It took a minute to gather her nerve. “Do you like, um, that?”

“Do I like what? Blow jobs?” He snorted. “I have a dick, don’t I? Of course I like blow jobs. What a weird question.”

“Was it?” She tried to pull her hand back, but he trapped it, lazily continuing to massage his cock with it.

“I figured you didn’t like them,” he said, his tone measured. “Giving them, I mean. You never suggested it. So I didn’t want to push my luck. I drive it into the ground with you anyway.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” she confessed. “It’s just that I’m not—I’m not—”

“Not what?” he snapped.

“Not very good at them.” The words came out in a rush.

There was a shocked silence in the truck.

“Bullshit,” he said finally. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re white-hot in bed. Who told you that? The dickless wonder?”

She giggled. “Ah…well…”

“And you believed him? You would trust the judgment of a guy who would put his dick into the mouth of a carnivorous bimbo like Kaia? When he had you?”

“Well, uh…” She struggled to control her quivering voice. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to—”

“But she did,” he said emphatically. “You’ve never put a guy in the hospital by blowing him, babe, which means that pointwise, you’re way ahead of Jaws.”

She exploded with laughter. “Stop it,” she said, waving her hand at him. “Stop being ridiculous.”

“Not as long as it makes you laugh,” he said. “I get off on that.”

He lifted her hand off his erection and tugged it up to drop a kiss on her knuckles. Then he threaded his fingers through hers.

The simple gesture felt wonderful. She wanted to jump on him and kiss him all over, for making her feel like this. So pretty, so sexy. Desirable. Even…well, powerful.

It actually made her want to try that all-too-emotionally-charged sexual technique with Nick. Just to see if it would be different. Not so stiff, awkward, uncomfortable, embarrassing. He had turned the rest of her life upside down. “Do you, um, want one?” she asked, on impulse.

“A blow job? From you? Fuck, yeah,” he said promptly. “How many times do I have to say it?”

She gulped. “No, I mean, ah…now.” She blushed, furiously.

He swiveled his head, wide-eyed. “Right now? You mean literally right now? In the truck? On the road? At seventy-five an hour?”

She nodded a nervous yes. “I would. If you wanted me to.”

“Are you nuts?” He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “After what happened to the dickless wonder?”

Her face went from hot pink to tomato red. “Oh, God. Sorry, then. Forget I said it.”

“Like hell.” The turn signal started clicking. Becca squeaked in alarm as they swerved, and juddered over the rumble strip onto an exit ramp at the last second.

He pulled off the main strip at the first hotel he came to, a long, dilapidated, one-story clapboard building. “The place is a dump,” he said, yanking up the hand brake. “But I, for one, am not going to notice.”

“Nick. Please. It was a dumb suggestion,” she pleaded. “You don’t have to be macho about this. Just ignore it and we’ll—”

“No fucking way. You think I’m passing up a chance like this?”

“But—”

“It’s not a dumb suggestion,” he said. “It’s just the setting that’s wrong. I don’t want to be a menace to public safety while you have my cock in your mouth. To say nothing of your safety. And my cock’s safety. Call me a pussy if you want, but I just don’t have that kind of nerve.”

“Uh, believe me. I’m not going to call you that. Ever. But I think you’re overestimating my abilities,” she said. “I’m not, you know, Mata Hari, or anything.”

“And you’re underestimating your power to turn me on,” he said. “It’s hard enough to keep my eyes on the road when you’re just sitting next to me, giving me a hard time. Imagine if you were sucking my cock. I’d go straight into a lane of oncoming traffic.”

“Uh—”

“You wait here. I’ll get us a room. This place probably rents by the hour, for cash.” He jumped out of the car and loped into the office.

She buried her face in her hands, shaking with laughter and nerves. That clown. He was doing it again, laying on his own special brand of rough, in-your-face charm that she found utterly irresistible.

He was out again in no time at all, yanking open her door. The urgency in his grip, the anticipation in his eyes, sent her into a tizzy of performance anxiety. Why did she do this to herself? She should have just gone for him some night when they were fooling around, and experimented with oral sex, spontaneously, lightheartedly. Without all the build-up and the fanfare and hoo hah.

Too late now. Her feet barely hit the ground, he was dragging her down the cracked, buckled concrete walkway so fast.

“Nick, please. Just keep in mind, it’s not like I’m this big expert,” she babbled. “The truth is, I’ve hardly ever—”

He swung her around, and she bumped up against the door. He shoved the key into the knob lock, and leaned down to kiss her, a long, clinging, sweet kiss that left her dazzled.

He lifted his head, gazed into her eyes. “A few pointers,” he said.

She blinked at him, bit her lip. “I’m listening,” she whispered.

“Simple.” He held up a finger. “One. Enthusiasm. Two. Be gentle, but not too gentle. Three. Use your hands. Four, the more spit, the better. Five, no moving motor vehicles. Last, but not least—no teeth. Other than that, anything goes.”

He turned the key in the lock and pushed her inside.

Chapter
23

N ick had a bad moment when he looked around the hotel room. Cramped, stale-smoke-smelling, funky carpet, fake, peeling wood paneling, water-stained ceiling. Squalid.

But they wouldn’t be there long enough for it to matter. They weren’t even going to use that sagging, sad-looking bed.

“Talk about atmosphere,” he said. “This place is steeped in the vibe of illicit sex. We might be the first licit sex this room has ever seen.”

Her eyes did that sparkling thing they did when she smiled. “What’s licit sex?”

He thought about it for a second. “Nobody paid, nobody betrayed.”

She nodded, and they stared at each other for an awkward moment. Becca’s face turned pink.

“Um, so, where does one begin?” she asked. “I mean, shall we just get right to it? Or would you like, you know, a lead in? What do guys prefer, anyhow? I’ve never actually asked one.”

His grin spread helplessly over his face. This was going to be fun, watching her flail around, clueless. She was so fucking cute.

“I mean, how would you like me to…should I undress?” she demanded. “Damn it, Nick, stop smirking at me like that!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t help it. I love to watch you stammer and get all flustered. The clueless virgin act really turns me on.”

“What a surprise,” she snapped. “Like, what doesn’t turn you on, Nick? It’s a simple yes or no question. Dressed or undressed?”

“Think about it. Maybe you can figure it out for yourself. A guy’s cock is harder than a railroad spike. What’s better? Getting it sucked by a gorgeous chick who’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt? Or getting it sucked by a gorgeous chick who’s bare-ass naked? Huh. Tough call.”

“I see,” she murmured. “You don’t have to be sarcastic—”

“Round ass cheeks,” he went on dreamily. “Silky white thighs. Big, soft, jiggling tits with tight nipples just begging to be licked and sucked. And that hot pussy is the best part—”

“OK! I get the picture! You’ve made your point! Stop grinning at me like that. If you piss me off, I’ll change my mind.”

He felt the grin on his face go hard and predatory. “Uh-uh,” he said softly. “You’re not leaving this room until I get what I want.”

She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again with the sexual power-tripping, hmm? Nick, the master of all that he surveys.”

“Hell, yeah. I do my best. I have to overcompensate like hell, since most of it rolls right off your back. Otherwise you’d steamroll over me.”

“Oh, yeah. Right,” she snapped. She yanked off her glasses, and started taking off her clothes without ceremony, but her matter-of-fact striptease had its usual effect. It made him sweaty-palmed, breathless, to watch her kick off the sneakers, shimmy out of her jeans, peel off the T-shirt, unhook the bra, pull down the panties. He unbuckled his jeans and shoved them down far enough to free his cock, which sprang up to bounce and sway like it was spring-loaded. He stroked it idly in his hands and waited for her to make another move. Her show, her call.

“Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “Me clothed, you naked. Me on my feet, you kneeling.”

She harrumphed, crossing her arms over her lush tits. “What is this, some male domination fantasy of yours?”

“What if it is?” he asked. “Anything wrong with that?”

She didn’t have a ready answer for that one and he pressed his advantage. “You’ll get your turn,” he assured her. “I’ll kneel before you naked and put my tongue up the imperial pussy for as long as you want. Hours, days. You’ll have to kick me away to make me stop.”

“That’s not the same thing,” she said primly.

“Why not?” he snapped.

“Because you’re a man,” she said as if it were obvious.

He snorted. “So I should hope. Stop your stalling.” He yanked the coverlet and the puffy synthetic blanket off the bed, folded them and tossed them onto the floor. “For your knees,” he explained.

“Ah,” she murmured. “How thoughtful of you.” She reached out, curling her smooth, cool fingers around his cock. “You’re burning hot.”

“Oh, yeah. One more thing,” he said. “That lipstick. The stuff you lifted off the mafiya mistress. The slut red. You got that stuff with you?”

Her gorgeous lips twitched. “In my purse,” she said demurely.

“Put some on,” he said.

“Of course. I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it myself.” She grabbed her purse from the bed, rummaging through it till she found the silver tube. Then she turned to the stained, dim-looking mirror, and peeked at him mischievously as she put the stuff on.

He wished he was a photographer who could catch that moment forever. Her gorgeous ass stuck out, legs parted for his viewing pleasure so that he could see just a shadowy glimpse of her cunt. Her front reflected in the mirror, tits swaying, dawning wonder in her eyes. Mouth pursed up as she painted herself with painstaking slowness. Dragging it out.

And him, in the background, clutching his dick in his hand. His eyes looked like staring holes in his stark face. He looked desperate.

Power tripping, hell. He was helpless, pleading, at her mercy. In the palm of her slender hand. The only place on earth he wanted to be.

He had to toughen up. Keep up his macho dominator schtick, if he could swing it. Melting down into molten slop for her was not a turn-on. Not a confidence builder. Not if he wanted to keep things light.

No I-love-you’s. He’d learned his lesson the night before.

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