OGs: Deep Down (30 page)

Mike had left. God only knew how long it would take for him to want to talk to her. She hadn’t reacted that maturely either, had she? She’d felt threatened and had lashed out. Exactly like when he’d proposed.

The important thing was, what was she going to do about it? Hide here? No. She wasn’t, she decided.

She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there, rocking—a couple of hours, probably, for it was darker outside. Her legs and her butt were totally asleep, so it took a bit to get her legs to move.

That didn’t deter her though. She was going to find Mike and hash it out with him. Force him to talk to her. She was not going to make the same mistakes again.

She picked up her bag, and as she passed by the living room window, she noticed Mike was sitting on her doorstep, his head in his hands. She stood there, frozen, clutching her bag, staring at him. He hadn’t left. Yes, they clashed but he was still here. When she realized he wasn’t going to leave or get up and ring the doorbell, she opened the front door as quietly as possible. He didn’t turn around, but by the way his shoulders stiffened, she knew he’d heard her. Without saying anything, she sat beside him.

“You didn’t leave,” she whispered.

He shook his head, his gaze never lifting from the ground.

“Josh called just when we were on our way to the apartment. He figured out why I was in New York. He insisted on coming along. For the record, he also thought being there was a shitty idea.”

He remained silent.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t being fair bringing up old shit.”

“I’m sorry too,” he answered finally. “I was an ass. I sure gave you a run for your money.”

“We managed to fly off the handle again, right?” she said.

He nodded. “I didn’t mean to call you stupid. You did manage pretty well on your own. You achieved your professional goals and raised a great kid all by yourself. I didn’t have the right to call you stupid or mock your choices. It’s not my place.”

“Well, it might have been stupid not to tell you.”

They sat there with that shaky truce between them. “Why are you holding your bag?” he asked.

“I was on my way to find you.”

His eyes went soft. “Really?”

“Really. What are you doing out here?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you. Not fight. Talk. Can I come in? I really want to come in.” She opened her mouth, but he continued. “Just sit on the couch with you guys and watch a movie or whatever you’re doing tonight.”

MIKE HELD HIS breath for the longest moment, waiting for Kyra to say something.

He’d been furious, but he hadn’t made it past the third step. He hadn’t been able to leave. It was his recurrent nightmare all over again—he’d turn around for a second, and Kyra would run away. She was unpredictable. He’d taken her for granted once and had cost them both dearly. Not again.

Kyra stood and tugged at his hand. “Come on.”

Mike followed her to the living room.

She dropped her bag on a chair and then turned to him, their hands still linked.

She went on her knees in front of him, her eyes never leaving his, and cupped his throbbing erection.

Mike threw his head back, cursing, and when she started unbuttoning him, he stopped her.

“Babe—”

“Let me, Mike. This is me.”

That was exactly why he shouldn’t let her.

She caressed the tattoo on his lower abdomen, tracing her name. Then she leaned over and began kissing the skin, running her tongue over it.

“I love that you have my name on your skin.” She lifted her eyes to his face. “Please. I want you.”

He couldn’t deny her anything. She wasn’t on his skin; she was in him. In his blood. In his bones.

She made quick work of his jeans, his cock springing out hard and proud, bobbling for attention.

“I love how you smell,” she said, nuzzling his shaft.

He chuckled softly. “You smell much better. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. Maybe I could demonstrate now. Get your pants down.”

“No way,” she said, flicking her tongue along his shaft. “You’re not taking over. Not now.”

He smirked. “I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

“Oh, I know, honey. I know how good you can make it. But now it’s my turn.” With one hand on his shaft, and lapping at his slit, she spread her legs a bit, delved under her pants, and then brought her fingers to his mouth while she gently scraped his sensitive crown with her teeth. “This should tide you over for a while.”

Fuck, her fingers were wet. She was wet. And she tasted as sweet as always. This wasn’t going to tide him over. This was going to kill him.

He started to speak, but before he could say anything, she tightened her grip on him and began working his shaft, her devilish mouth licking around his piercing, taking the metal ball between her lips and pulling at it, making his erection grow harder.

She kissed, licked, and lapped at the head, playing with his piercing, but when she tried to unclasp his piercing, he covered her hand with his, his heart in his mouth. “No.”

“Honey, this thing is great, but I can’t suck you the way you liked. Lick you and bring you deep into my throat. This has to go for now; you can’t hide behind it anymore.”

“I’m not hiding,” he retorted, his voice sounding too fucking defensive, even for himself.

“Yes, you are. You loved me sucking you slow and deep. Coming down my throat. You’re very big, and I can’t manage it with the piercing.”

He wanted to say he wasn’t hiding behind a stupid piece of jewelry, but her eyes kept him spellbound, and he couldn’t lie. Still, he didn’t let go.

“This is me, Mike,” she repeated in a whisper, nuzzling his cock. “I gave you my virginity. Let me give you pleasure. You can trust me. Let me watch you come.”

He closed his eyes, grimacing. He didn’t want to lower his defenses and give her that much power. He was scared of that. Kyra would see too much; he wouldn’t be able to hold it in. But again, he couldn’t deny her anything.

With a deep breath, he released the grip he had on her hand, noticing his pulse wasn’t that steady. She fumbled trying to unclasp the barbell, every one of her light touches torture for him. Man, he was going to come from that petting alone. Pathetic.

“There,” she said as she finally got rid of it.

Mike felt…naked. Exposed. Wasn’t sure if it had to do with the piercing, or with having Kyra on her knees about to suck him, but suddenly he was terrified. Of what that meant. For him especially.

“Kyra—”

“Just me, honey,” she whispered, reading him so clearly it was scary. “It’s just me.”

She licked his crown while her hands lovingly caressed his shaft, and then she slowly slid him into her wet, hot mouth. His whole body tightened. He wasn’t going to survive this. Then she moved to cup his balls, raking her nails over them, and, little by little, took him deeper. His heart wasn’t in his chest anymore; it was ten feet in front of him, speeding away.

He locked his legs, afraid he was going to fall on his face if he didn’t. Very manly. Here he was, getting a blowjob from Kyra, and his fucking legs were trembling.

She must have noticed, because she pushed him gently. “Sit down, honey.”

Stumbling, he plopped on the sofa behind him.

“Just close your eyes and relax,” she whispered.

“No fucking way. I’ve spent too many years having sex with my eyes closed. Imagining you there. Rushing to come so I wouldn’t have to see who was with me, or even worse, who wasn’t with me. I want my eyes wide open now; I don’t want to miss a single detail.”

Her eyes darkened at his words, something he feared to name shimmering in them.

With her mouth and hands on him, she lavished him with attention, taking him deep inside her, licking him. Then, after bringing him to the back of her throat and keeping him there for a long, torturous moment, she released his cock slowly, sucking at him, the pressure making his balls harden and boil with the imperious need to come. He needed to spurt his load inside her. But she knew how to pleasure him, and she wasn’t going to let him release that fast. She closed her fist over his crown, nuzzling his shaft and murmuring to him, and didn’t let go until the need to come receded. Then she began working him again.

He tucked back the strands of hair that had fallen on her face, unwilling to lose a second. Those big gray eyes, that silky, midnight-black hair all over him, that pink mouth stretched around his dick, those hollow cheeks sucking the living shit out of him. He was going to lose it; no way could he hold back.

He gripped her head, tugged at it. “Baby, I’m gonna come. Fuck. Stop.”

His halfhearted plea went unheard. She held on to him and didn’t let him retreat. He was going to come. He couldn’t stop it.

“Fuck. Shit. Baby, coming.”

He swore and shuddered, unable to restrain his response as his climax overtook him, leaving him vulnerable to her. Naked. Soul and body, his pleasure hers to control. His mangled heart again in her hands.

She swallowed his cum, something he hadn’t allowed any other woman to do. He’d fucked their mouths, but he never let them take it to the end. He’d overpower them, sink his aching cock into their pussies, and fuck them until they came. Then he came. Here, though, with Kyra, he didn’t have that kind of power; he had no power at all. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t call the shots. He was at her mercy.

When he regained consciousness, he was leaning over her, his face in her hair, hugging her tight, and she was caressing his thighs.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

He kissed her, tasting himself on her. Fuck, they tasted good together. “I don’t know. Can’t move.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll recover soon enough,” she said with a chuckle.

He wasn’t sure. His body, probably. His heart? That was another matter.

That night, after fucking her hard and fast and slow and sweet and making her come so many times he lost count, he lay in bed, spent and tense at the same time. Nope, his heart was not going to recover.

Chapter Fifteen

Kyra stood on Main Street in front of the gift shop, befuddled. She could have sworn she’d left her car parked here yesterday, but apparently she hadn’t, because the spot was empty. Maybe a bit farther? She’d been fairly distracted lately, and she’d lost her car once, finding it some streets over. Not to mention a week ago Mike had told her he’d noticed she had a flat tire and had taken care of it, which somehow ended with her losing track of her car for a while too.

As she was passing the town’s garage, she stopped dead in her tracks. Was that her Fiat?

“Hey.” A blonde wearing a white wifebeater and black overalls, the sleeves tied around her waist, came toward her. “How can I help you?”

“Hmmm. That’s my car. Right?”

The girl’s mouth opened in an O. “Kyra?”

“Yes.”

The mechanic stuck her hand to her. “I’m Rachel. Wilma’s granddaughter. I run this garage. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She looked at Kyra’s face and laughed. “Don’t worry. All good.”

“Nice to meet you, Rachel. That’s my car, right?” she repeated. “How come you have it here? Who brought it?”

Rachel looked around. “Mmm, not sure. I wasn’t here this morning.”

Kyra’d heard what a brilliant mechanic Rachel was. Hell, one just had to take a glance at her grandmother’s ride to see that. As a liar, though, she sucked. Big-time.

At that very instant, one guy came from the office. “Rach, they called about the piece you ordered for the rusty granny yesterday. It will be here tomorrow.”

Kyra glanced around. The only car that fit the bill as a rusty granny in the whole damn garage was her Fiat. Then it dawned on her. Her car had been running much better—when she could find it, of course. The time she’d been sure she’d parked it somewhere but then it turned up somewhere else, Mike had convinced her she was mistaken.

Right.

And flat tire her ass.

“Thanks, Nico,” Rachel grumbled. “Nice timing.”

He grimaced. “Sorry, boss.”

“Any chance you’ll believe the rusty granny is one of the OGs?” Rachel asked, turning to Kyra.

“Sure, and the piece you’re getting tomorrow is what? A replacement knee? Mike has been bringing in my car, right?”

“I think I’m gonna plead the Fifth here.”

Man, she was so going to rip him a new one for this. “Can you please send me the bills?”

She wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for those, but by God, she was going to.

Shaking her head, Rachel lifted her hands. “Nope. No can do. Mike would wring my neck.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will get to his neck first,” Kyra assured.

Rachel’s eyes softened. “Mike means well. And your car was a hazard.”

She knew, but it wasn’t Mike’s responsibility, not to mention he’d gone behind her back. And she was so indebted to him already she’d need to live to be a hundred for a chance at paying him back.

“Listen, I was about to take a break and grab some coffee,” Rachel said. “Do you want some?”

There was nothing else for her to do other than fume and have a meltdown, so yeah, coffee would be a good idea.

Rachel directed her to the office in the far corner.

“Don’t mind the mess,” Rachel said, moving to the coffee machine. “That’s the boys’ restroom.”

At Kyra’s questioning stare, Rachel continued pointing at the adjacent room. “They used to come to my office for the breaks. That was cool, but when they started to decorate it with Miss July’s tushy and Miss December’s crazy huge boobs, I decided they needed their own space. I’m more of a Hello Kitty-type girl,” she said with a wink.

Yep, Hello Kitty stuff would totally clash with the randy centerfolds and calendars around them.

“So, Mike has been bringing my car,” Kyra stated after taking a sip from her smoky, hot coffee.

“Not always,” Rachel answered sheepishly. “Sometimes he sent Max. Others he called and told us where it was, and we picked it up.”

Fantastic. He’d enlisted half the town.

“What about the key?” She didn’t remember losing that one.

“Honey, your car is a classic, but anyone can break in with a hairpin. Not to mention that a couple of muscled guys could pick it up and bring it here on their shoulders, no sweat.”