Looking for Trouble (13 page)

Other people stayed. To take care of a mother. A father. Or the woman they loved. They stayed because normal people didn’t drift the way Alex did.

He and Andrea had tried it that way for a while. She’d traveled with him on and off for a year. She’d thought it would be fun. He’d loved it for a while. But then it had been a disappointment for them both. She’d been homesick and lonely while he worked; he’d hated coming back to the hotel to an argument.

So they’d tried it her way instead. They’d rented an apartment outside Seattle. Picked out furniture. He’d moved his few belongings in with hers. That had been happy for a while, but only a while. Then Alex had gotten a little too relieved when it was time to hit the road again, and Andrea had gotten a little too pissed about each successive trip.

He wasn’t made to settle down, and nobody wanted a relationship with a man who couldn’t stay in one place for more than a few months.

Or had his childhood made him so afraid of holding on tight that he just let everything go?

“Tell me more about your travels,” she finally said.

He shook his head. “Tell me about your dad’s ranch.”

“Ha. Your family is in ranching. You know all about it. There’s nothing to tell.”

“Cattle?” he pressed.

She nodded.

“South of here, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “About forty minutes out. That’s all there is to tell. It’s beautiful, but I only stay to help my dad. He’s always been good to me.”

“He sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah. He is. He’s my stepdad, you know. I mean, I assume you know everything.”

He nodded. Of course he knew. Everybody knew. Greg Heyer had met a woman on a trip to Casper and brought her and her young daughter home to live with him just a month later.
What had he expected from such a quick and dirty start? Nobody even knew her people.

Yeah. He’d heard all about that. Many times.

“Tell me where you’d go,” he said.

She frowned in puzzlement.

“If you left here, where’s the first place you’d go?”

“Oh.” She kept frowning, but now he could see the thoughts turning in her eyes. “There are so many places. Alaska, for sure. But first?” She looked at him like he might have the answer, but he couldn’t help.

Finally, she smiled. “I’ve never seen the ocean. I’d go to California. But not L.A. or San Francisco. Not to a city. I’d go to the coast and see the ocean and redwoods and... God,” she sighed. “Can you imagine?”

Yes. He could. He’d seen that coast a dozen times. But he didn’t say that. “It’d be beautiful.”

“Yes. Everybody always says you can smell the ocean. Is that true?”

“Sure.”

“What does it smell like?”

Alex opened his mouth to answer, then realized he wasn’t sure how to put it. “It smells...humid, I guess. But cool.”

“Like rain?”

“No. More complicated. Sometimes a little fishy or a little green. And salty.”

Her head tilted and a frown showed between her eyebrows. “Salt doesn’t have a smell.”

Alex laughed in exasperation. “You’re right. I don’t know. It’s like trying to explain that aspen smells crisp.”

“Okay, you got me there.” She watched him, her mouth soft with amusement, her eyes still bright.

“What?” he finally asked.

“You have a nice laugh.”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“I like it. You look so dangerous and dark with your tattoos and your scruff.” Her hand rose to stroke his jaw, her fingers scraping softly over his stubble. His skin tingled. “And then you laugh.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice already rough with need for her. He curved his hand around her knee and felt the soft warmth of her stocking. God. “I like your laugh, too,” he said. “It sounds so sweet and innocent. Just the way you look.”

Her eyes crinkled with mischief.

“Tell me again how you’re shy,” he challenged, sliding his hand up her thigh.

“I am,” she said, just as his hand touched bare skin. He pushed higher, bunching her skirt up until her stocking was revealed, half a shade darker than her skin, clipped to a pale pink ribbon that was decorated with swirls of tan. His skin looked impossibly dark against all that pale, and far too rough to touch such sweetness. They both watched his blunt fingers spread over her thigh. “I’m shy,” she repeated, her breath coming faster now. Something dangerous uncurled in Alex’s gut.

“Right. You’re shy. You’re a nice girl.”

“I am,” she insisted, but her words ended on a gasp when he tugged her leg closer, pulling her thighs apart. He pushed her skirt up into a crumpled pile, exposing pink panties. Lust spread through him like a drug as he slid his hands along the line of that delicate fabric until his fingertips slipped between her legs. Her plump lips were a sweet cushion under his touch. He stroked her through the fabric, tracing the seam of her body until she was panting.

“I guess nice girls like this,” he growled.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“What else do they like?”

“I don’t—” He brushed her clit and she drew in a quick breath. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, I bet you know. You just can’t say it. Because you’re shy.”

“Yes.” He barely heard her this time. The delicate, innocent pink of the panties was getting darker under his touch as her wetness soaked through the fabric. That was getting to be one of his favorite sights.

Alex reached for the row of tiny buttons that started at the collar of her dress. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t touch his arm. She just ducked her head and watched as he unbuttoned them one by one. Feigning patience, he made it all the way to the last button, just at her waist. Then, instead of shoving the dress off and fucking her right there against the arm of the couch, he very slowly spread one side of her dress open and down her arm. The bra was pink, too. He wanted to see all of it together.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

She uncurled her legs and stood, the skirt of her dress falling to cover her thighs. Not for long. He opened the other side of her dress and tugged it farther down her arms. It caught for a moment, and he liked that, Sophie half undressed, arms restrained, and her nipples pushing against the scraps of fabric that covered them. But he only paused for a moment before tugging the dress all the way down. He let it fall to a heap on the floor, and he took her in. The bra, the panties, the garter belt, the stockings, and all of it still sweet and innocent. All of it cut modestly in muted colors of pink and tan. Like she was just a nice girl on her way home from school in the 1940s.

He was so hard it hurt.

“Do nice girls like to show off?” he asked.

Her chest rose and fell with every nervous breath. She nodded.

“Yes, they do,” he murmured, raising one hand to cup her breast. He flicked a thumb over her nipple and watched the muscles of her stomach jump.

He dragged the fabric aside just enough to expose the hard nub of her nipple, then circled it slowly with his calloused thumb. It grew harder against his touch. “Take down your hair.”

While she reached up, he leaned forward and caught her nipple between his teeth.

“Uh,” she gasped, but her hands were occupied with the knot at her nape. He heard one pin fall to the floor as he scraped his teeth over her and made her jerk. Then her hair fell and brushed against his head. He leaned back and took her in.

Now she looked violated and vulnerable. Hair wavy and tumbling, the bra shoved aside, her nipple wet and reddened. Alex hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and slipped them down. They were quite conveniently put on over the ribbons of the garter belt, so once he let the panties fall, her sex was framed by pink ribbons and the tiny strip of tan lace that decorated the edge of the belt. Pale, plump flesh and the slightest hint of pink lips peeking from her slit. He could see how slick and wet she was already.

“Yes.” He didn’t try to keep the violence from his voice. “You like showing off, don’t you, Sophie? You like walking around like this all day, knowing what a hot little piece you are if someone would just fucking look.”

“Yes,”
she gasped.

“You are hot. Look at you.”

Her chin rose and she stared defiantly at him. He stood, needing to show her that he was bigger and stronger and she couldn’t defy him. But her gaze didn’t change. She wasn’t scared. That knowledge jacked his lust into overdrive. She liked it like this.

He curved his hand around the back of her neck and gripped her skull to hold her still as he slipped his fingers over her mound. His fingertips slid along her folds and she jerked against his hold, but he didn’t let her move.

“You’re a nice girl who likes to have dirty sex, aren’t you, Sophie?”

She didn’t answer this time. She only closed her eyes and nodded, so Alex kept stroking her. Lightly, so lightly, until she was whimpering with need. She wanted more, but he didn’t give more than that, just the lightest stroke of his fingertips over her clit. God, she was slick and soft. He could touch her like this forever.

But that wouldn’t go over well with her, apparently.

He resisted the way her hips pushed toward him. “Please,” she finally begged, her hand reaching to cover his.

“You didn’t answer me,” he murmured, ducking his mouth close to her ear.

“Yes! Yes, I like it.”

“Mmm. Good.” But he didn’t give her what she wanted. Instead he kissed her cheek, her ear, her jaw. When he got to her mouth, her lips parted eagerly for him.

He took her mouth but pulled his hand free from her grip. Sophie growled in frustration, but she opened wider for his tongue. He kissed her deep and long, reaching back to unclip her bra and slide it off her arms. She let it drop.

Alex raised his head to look down at her. God, she was a treat. A beautiful, precious treat. She made his hands shake and his heart pound. Heart pounding even harder, he kept one hand at the nape of her neck and, with the other, reached down to unbuckle his belt. He opened the button of his jeans and unzipped them.

“Show me what else you like,” he said quietly, remembering how eagerly she’d sucked at his thumb that first night.

Her heavy eyes slid down his chest and focused on his open jeans. Her breath tore past her parted lips as she panted. Finally, she whispered, “Yes,” and she went to her knees.

Despite that he’d told her to, Alex had a brief moment of thankful disbelief, but he recovered quickly and dragged off his T-shirt.

“Oh,” she breathed, looking up at him as she put her hands to his bare stomach. Her hands smoothed up to his chest, brushing over the hair, shaping the muscles. Then her touch moved down again, down his belly, past his navel, and then to the band of his briefs. The heel of her hand brushed his cock, and Alex held his breath to keep from moaning. But it was in vain. She tugged his briefs lower and her fingers closed around his cock and Alex moaned in near pain. He loved her hands on him. Loved her touch. Loved the sight of her on her knees and staring at him like her mouth was watering.

“Show me,” he murmured as she drew him free.

Sophie nodded and glanced up at him with a little lick of her lips that made his nerves jump.
Yes,
he thought,
just like that.
That little pink tongue and those wet lips. On him. Around him.

She stroked him first, her fist working slowly up and down his shaft as she watched. His vision narrowed to nothing but that. Her hand on him, her face eagerly watching.

She squeezed harder, and a little drop of pre-come formed. Sophie hummed, and then she licked it. Slowly. Sweetly. She cleaned the head of his cock and then flashed him a small, wicked smile.

Dark pleasure washed over him, soaking into his muscles like heat. When her tongue swirled around him, that heat turned to fire that traveled up his nerves.

Her mouth closed over him then, enveloping him in warmth that shocked him even though he’d been waiting. Fuck, he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for that sweet draw of her mouth on his cock.

She took him in slowly, her mouth sliding up and down. Her fist kept the same rhythm, so that by the time she’d taken half of him into her throat, it felt like she was swallowing all of him. Alex groaned and watched the beautiful sight past a haze of lust.

But he wanted more, more, even as he went nearly dizzy from the pleasure. More.

“Touch yourself,” he rasped.

Her gaze flew up to meet his. She drew back in surprise until only her lips touched him.

Alex eased her fingers free and fisted himself. He slipped his other hand into her hair. “Touch yourself,” he repeated.

She did as he asked, her hand disappearing between her thighs even as her mouth opened. She let him ease her back onto his cock, and took him as deep as she had before. Her moan hummed through his shaft.

“Fuck,” he groaned as she pulled at him with her mouth. It was all pressure and wetness and heat and the sight of her mouth stretching wide around his cock.

She moaned again, shifting on her knees, and he knew this was getting her off. “Show me,” he said. “Show me how much you like it.” He palmed her head and eased deeper into her throat. She didn’t resist at all.

The pleasure was weight inside him. Weight and tension that drew his whole world down to where her tongue slid up and down around his wet shaft. Alex watched. He watched himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Watched the way his rough fingers clutched at her smooth red hair. And beyond all that, the pretty pink tips of her breasts and her hand disappearing between her legs.

She jerked back and Alex let her. His cock slid free of her mouth, the air a sudden cold grip around him. Sophie threw her head back and cried out, the muscles of her neck tight as she came, her hips spasming against her own hand. Her cry went hoarse, and then faded to a whimper. Alex squeezed his cock hard, determined to hold back his own orgasm for a few more moments.

Her eyes opened, dazed and heavy when she looked up at him. Her mouth was red and wet. Her cheeks pink with a blush that had nothing to do with shame.

“Good,” he whispered.

She nodded. Yes, she was very good and she knew it. A nice girl who liked it hard and wet and filthy.